CHAPTER 12
VALMIR
Something with April is off.
When she first assigned this latest task, she was her normal self.
She established what she wanted — a specific mountain plant, roots and all, brought back to her alive — and I agreed.
Then we'd fallen into her furs, arguing even as we touched each other.
I made her come, she jerked my cock, and I left feeling pleased over our usual push-pull.
Things were fine.
Then I fell into Corvak's pit and found him and Aidy.
Or rather, they found me. They're very different from myself and April.
From the beginning, they've been a unified team.
Every decision they made, they chose together.
They support each other endlessly. They are of one mind on everything.
As people go, they're tolerable enough. Aidy is sweet and kind, and Corvak is a decent warrior who just wants to protect his female. But as far as couples go...
They're boring.
Is that what mating is supposed to be like?
Is that why April has been fighting this so hard?
If so, I get it. I'd much rather have her arguing with me or teasing me and calling me "pussycat" even though she knows it irks me.
I like that April is unexpected and difficult to please.
Our arguments arouse me as much as they fill me with pleasure.
If resonance means we will never have another heated discussion between us that leads to frantic, angry touches followed by an equally frantic orgasm, then I am glad we have waited for so long.
It's just that...the sass I appreciate in April has dried up.
She came and found me in the mountains, which told me she was worried about me.
I enjoyed that realization. No, I loved that realization.
She tries so hard to pretend like she doesn't care, but she was the first one to offer me a shoulder if my ankle hurt, and she always had hot tea at hand to give me.
And sharp, teasing word to go with the hot tea, but that is how April and I communicate.
Sharp words tell me that she sees me, that she's not just trotting out whatever she thinks I want to hear.
Yet ever since I returned to the village, April has been nice.
I don't trust it.
There are no arguments, no hot retorts, no insults, no calling me "pussycat."
Yesterday while I laid around in the healer's tent, my ankle propped up, April brought me food. She asked me what I wanted as a meal so she could have it prepared for me. She offered to make me special tea and bring me my favorite pillow.
It's downright suspicious.
I watch with a skeptical gaze as April appears again today. She gives me a bright smile, as if I am a child in need of encouragement. "How are we feeling?"
"If I was feeling fine, I wouldn't be at the healer's tent with my foot on a pillow, would I?" I retort, trying to get a rise out of her.
"Good point." She continues to smile, not taking the bait. "Have you tried walking on your bad leg yet?"
"No, I thought I'd lie here in the healer's tent until my flesh rotted away."
"Sounds dull," April tells me in a cheerful voice. "Well, if you want, I could help you walk over to the main fire. Gail is making dinner tonight and her stew is always excellent. You like her food."
"You can bring me some."
"No, I think we should join the group," she says again, voice firm.
"I disagree." Now disagree with me. Start an argument that shows me your fiery personality.
She keeps smiling, but I sense a vague disappointment in her, as if I have been given a trial and failed. That is more frustrating than anything — I am being tested on something that has no rules, and I do not know how to respond. I need keffing guidelines.
She continues to watch me. I glare back. It's as if we're waiting for the other to respond first.
"It's been two days," April says finally. "You should walk a little. Come with me."
"Why, so I can be around the others and their screeching children? So they can all tell me stories about people I don't know and things I don't care about?" Why is she so set upon not being alone with me?
"You should want to be around people." April gives me an exasperated look, as if I am missing the obvious.
Want to be around these people? I'd sooner want to dive headfirst into ice water. "Why?"
She twirls a finger in a bit of decorative fur on her collar. "Because you're going to be living with them? You should have friends. More friends than just Skarr, anyhow."
I scoff. "Skarr is not my friend."
April makes a face back at me. "He's literally your best friend. You talk to him all the time when he's here. I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you are saving up your secrets so you can compare notes when he gets back."
Does she think I have a fondness for Skarr? "He comes up and talks to me. I do not seek him out."
"Do you seek anyone out?"
"You," I say.
She doesn't smile. "Other than me?"
I do not, but I know that answer will somehow disappoint her. "I fail to see why this is important."
"You know what? It's not. Never mind. Forget I asked." She gets to her feet, and again, I somehow feel that I have placed a wedge between us that I did not know was there. "Do you want me to bring you dinner later?"
"Maybe," I say, scowling up at her. Why is she so frustrating?
April gets to her feet, shoots me another disappointed look, and then leaves.
I'm left alone in the healer's hut, stewing and wondering what I did wrong.
How the kef did I manage to mess this up while lying on my back?
I don't understand. I don't understand her, and I don't understand the situation at all.
I glare at my surroundings for a time, irritated. The flap opens and I sit up, hoping that it is April. That she's come to keep me company after all. That she's back to her usual prickly self and everything is fine.
A large sa-khui male glares down at me with a dour expression. Blood drips down his hand and he keeps it curled to his chest. He eyes me like I'm a problem. "Is the healer in?"
I point at the leather curtain that closes off Veronica's private quarters from the healing alcove.
He shakes the chime to announce his arrival, and the healer emerges with a startled squeak. "Oh my god, Bek! You're dripping blood everywhere!"
The male sighs as if aggrieved. "There is not that much blood. It is a tiny wound, but my mate wanted me to have you look at it." He holds his hand out, but his expression tells me that he fears this is an overreaction. "Please check it for me and put her concerns to rest."
"Tiny wound? You nearly sliced your finger off." She examines his hand and shakes her head. Then Veronica points at the floor. "Sit down next to Valmir and I'll get some bandages."
He sits where she indicates, still holding his hand to his chest as the healer disappears inside the other portion of the hut. We stare at each other.
"It's a small wound," he says grudgingly again.
"You don't have to explain yourself, friend."
He harrumphs, as if my response irks him. I seem to be irking everyone today. "When you are mated, you will understand."
"That's a keffing relief, because right now, I don't understand females at all."
"I didn't say you would understand them," he admits. "They are impossible to understand sometimes. But you will want to please them at all times because making your mate happy is what you want most." He waves his good hand at the surroundings. "And that means letting the healer fuss over you."
Veronica returns, setting down a stool between us.
She squats on it while she tends to Bek's hand, and the other hunter is silent.
His words are echoing in my ears, though.
Here is a male who admits he doesn't understand his mate, but he loves her anyhow.
Is this something that I should be aware of?
Am I supposed to be constantly confused by my female?
Or is there some other information I'm missing entirely?
All is quiet in the healing hut, the only sound that of breathing and my occasional tail thump.
"There," Veronica finally says. "All better. Try not to get it wet for the rest of the day."
"Why?" Bek asks, and he sounds as surly as I do when I am told something without an explanation.
"Because you don't want it to get infected?" She gives the wrapping covering his wound a little pat.
"You just healed it."
She points at the soft leather wrap. "And I put a bandage on it, and you don't want a wet bandage on a wound?"
"Why wouldn't I take the bandage off?"
She sighs and pulls the wrap off. "I'm sure you would. I'm just advising you, all right? It's my job to look after everyone's health. Do as you like. Be a stubborn goat."
He grunts and gets to his feet. "My thanks for the healing, even if it wasn't necessary. It was a small prick of the knife. Nothing, really." With one last glance at me, he turns and leaves.
Veronica just shakes her head.
I get to my feet. "You know what? I think I'll take a walk. Try out the new ankle."
"Oh good!" The healer seems pleased at this announcement. "Just walk carefully if you head down to the beach. Some of the rocks can turn an ankle. And no climbing. And don't stay out too long."
"Anything else?" It's on the tip of my tongue to comment something sarcastic, but this female has been very patient with my injury and tending to me. Even I know not to bite the hand of the healer.
She pauses, clasping her hands in front of her. "I think that's all. If it starts to hurt, come back. The khui helps things set very fast, but with two breaks in the same spot, your bones are weak."
"My bones are incredible," I inform her, insulted.
Her hands flutter to her forehead. "That's not what I meant...you know what? Never mind. Go walk. If anything falls off, I'll fix it."
When I get to my feet, I'm aching and sore all over, as if I've run for days instead of lying around on my tail for the last several. Everything hurts, but I would never admit this to anyone. I move slowly and adjust my gait so I don't show a limp and head out after Bek.