CHAPTER 87
MURR
Carrying my mate in the car while I am in battle-form is going to be interesting.
Even though the things are made of metal, the tops are flimsy and crumple when I grab onto one with my forearms. It must be held by only one drakoni, because we cannot fly so close together without bumping wings and sending both of us spinning to the ground.
I try to hold the car with clawed hind-feet but I flex my legs when I fly in order to gain altitude, and end up knocking my poor mate around in the inside of the car.
It only made her dizzy, but she worries about the others who are far more fragile.
So I will carry the lightest car I can find, pressed to my chest, and fly low to the ground. Not ideal, but the safety of my family is everything.
Once we are satisfied with the method for carrying, Dakota and I leave Thess, promising to meet again in the morning at the bookstore.
We return home, and my mate gets quieter.
I know she is thinking about tomorrow, and the good and the bad of it.
She worries Dottie will hate her, yet wants her to be checked anyhow.
She has a kind heart and a resolute spirit, my mate.
I send her reassuring thoughts, as if I can somehow comfort her from afar as she sits near the fire with the others, making food and chattering as if tomorrow’s trip is purely for fun.
I lounge at Dakota’s feet, content to hear her talk, and tease the cats with one of the feather toys we picked up today.
Rabbit is ecstatic at all the things we got for the cats, currently teasing Kermit with a soft, squishy fish that smells of old herbs.
Nearby, two kittens are chasing a ball in a plastic track.
Aggie has her crossword out, asking questions, and Dottie clacks her sticks together, making her knitting.
It feels warm and cozy to have everyone around, peaceful and content.
These are the moments that make me happiest, and I curl one hand around Dakota’s calf, feeling the joy of the moment.
“We’ll get up early and make a day of it at the fort,” Dakota says, beaming at the group. “Everyone dress warmly, and if you have something to trade, pack it up and we’ll see what we can get for it.”
“I’ll break out my Dolly,” Aggie says.
“Like a baby doll?” Rabbit asks.
“No, my Dolly. My hair.” She pats the strange fake mane she’s currently wearing. “She’s for when I feel sassy.”
“I thought that was Shakira,” Dottie says.
“She’s for sass and ass,” Aggie says.
“Lord help us,” is all Dottie says to that.
My mate gives a fake yawn and stretches. “Well, I’m going to get ready for bed since we have a big morning. Whoever’s up last, bank the fire, please?”
“I’ll handle it,” Rabbit says, trailing the herbal toy in front of her to make Kermit grab it.
I get to my feet, nuzzling my cat before releasing it. “I come.”
“That’s what she says,” Aggie snickers, and earns herself a smack on the arm from Dottie.
Dakota smiles, but it seems forced, and I know she is worried.
I put a hand on her back, and follow her inside.
She does not speak until we are behind the curtain of our quarters.
Instead of pulling out the things she spoke of earlier—bags of scavenged items for trading—she hugs her waist and gives me a miserable look.
“Please tell me I’m doing the right thing, Murr. ”
“Dakota right,” I reassure her. “Sick, make better. Dakota good leader.”
Her lower lip juts out, ever so slightly. “Sometimes I don’t want to be the leader. Sometimes I just want someone else to take charge.”
“Murr take charge,” I offer, pulling her into my arms. I rub her back up and down, soothing her. “Murr says we go tomorrow. We see fort. We trade. We make Dottie better. Good, all good.”
She leans into me. “I just don’t want anyone to hate me.”
“Hate Murr,” I say, my tone fierce. “Murr leader, Murr decision.”
Her hands slide to my waist, lightly dancing over my skin before pulling off my kilt. “We both know that won’t work. They’ll know it’s me. We’ll just have to weather the storm, whatever happens. For now, I don’t want to think about any of that, though.”
“Murr leader,” I say again, taking her hands and folding them together. I tighten my grasp around them, pinning them in place against her chest. “Murr make decision.”
“What’s your decision right now?”
I grin down at her. “Clothes off, Dakota. Kiss everywhere.”
“I like the way you lead.”
Does she? I have more leadership to show her, then.
I lead her to the bed. I lead her in the removal of her clothing, and I lead her into my arms. I let her come first, however.
In some things, a proud warrior should let his mate lead.
So I kiss and touch her until she is sighing, and until she forgets all about her worries.
She might worry through the daylight hours, but when she is with me at night, I will not allow Dakota to have anything but pleasure. She needs the release and then the contentment that follows.
This is my job as her mate, and one I take very seriously.