Chapter 18 Kojo
KOJO
Kendra is using my chest as a pillow, rain on dry earth and wild honey filling my lungs with each breath.
I cannot sleep. How can I when the curve of her breasts presses against my side, her leg wrapped around mine, her soft snores the only sound in the room.
Her hair catches at my chin, the tight coils lit faintly by the window.
This is magnificent, Alemayehu, my Bouda says, his voice low and pleased. She feels the pull of the bond already. Her body seeks yours even in sleep.
I do not respond. Words would shatter this moment, and I am selfish enough to want it to last. Kendra stirs against me, nuzzling closer, searching for a more comfortable position. Her hand slides across my chest, fingers spreading wide.
We have work to do, my Bouda reminds me. This cabin is not suitable for a queen. She deserves far more than this temporary shelter. We must begin preparations immediately.
I nod and rub her back, the heat of her skin reaching me through the thin fabric of her shirt.
My life has always been service. Duty to the clan.
Duty to the Matriarch. I understood that arrangement completely.
This is different. I want Kendra, not just as my queen, but as my mate.
I did not realize there was a difference until now.
My body responds to these thoughts. I shift, trying not to wake her. This is not the time. She does not understand what we are to each other yet, and I will not push.
You are finally feeling it, my Bouda observes. The true pull of the mate bond. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever acknowledge it.
I ease out from under her, holding still when she stirs. She rolls to her side, still deep in slumber, and I pull the sheets up to cover her shoulders. I stand beside the bed, watching her. The curve of her hip beneath the blanket, the stillness of her face.
“She is so beautiful,” I whisper.
Just a few more minutes of staring? my Bouda asks, amused. We need to find our mate fresh meat. This will please her. We must demonstrate our ability to provide for her immediately.
“She is not ready,” I say under my breath.
She will be, my Bouda says with certainty. The bond is already working through her. Did you not notice how she reached for you in her sleep?
I look at her frame one last time, her chest rising slow and even, and then I turn away.
The bathroom is still damp from last night.
I brush my teeth and wash my face, then begin cleaning.
I wipe down the shower walls, scrub the sink, and organize the toiletries she left scattered on the counter.
I work fast, stealing glances at her through the doorway.
She is so tired. I do not like that. Her body carries the exhaustion of someone who has been running too long without rest. I will give her this morning of peace, at least.
When the bathroom gleams, I gather our used clothes and slip out of the bedroom. The stairs creak slightly beneath my weight, but not enough to wake her. The scent of cleaning solutions hits me before I reach the bottom step. Zaki is already awake.
My sister stands at the kitchen table, wiping it down with a cloth. She wears one of the dresses Leah brought, a simple blue garment that falls to her knees. I have never seen her outside of her tribal garments. She looks different, almost softer, though her posture remains that of a warrior.
I smile at the sight. Zaki glances up and frowns.
“Do not smile at me in this garment,” she says sharply. “I am a warrior, not a civilian.”
I bow my head. “Good morning, sister.”
She returns the gesture, her ridge lying flat. “Good morning, brother.”
We must begin hunting for food, my Bouda urges. Then we need to locate the House of Zorah and discuss establishing a proper clan village. This temporary shelter is beneath our queen.
I look around the main floor. Zaki has already swept and mopped. The kitchen counters are spotless, and the food containers from last night have been disposed of properly.
“I want our queen to wake to order,” Zaki says, noticing my gaze.
I walk over to the table and take the cloth from her hand. She stares at me, her silver-ringed eyes narrowing slightly.
Zaki is troubled, my Bouda observes. Something weighs on her mind.
“What is bothering you, sister?”
Zaki’s face changes.”I believe more of us are scattered,” she says. “I stalked the poachers for three years. I needed to know why they wanted us dead.”
“What did you find?”
“They are extracting our DNA and marrow from our ridges.” Her voice is flat, but I can smell the anger rising from her skin. “I followed them to their facilities. I watched them process what they took from our people.”
“What are they doing with it?”
“I cannot see inside their laboratories.” Zaki’s ridge begins to rise, the fur stiffening into points.
“But I can smell it. The thickness of our blood, the bone marrow. It hangs in the air around their buildings, too strong to be from just a few specimens.” She looks at me directly.
“This is not the end, Alemayehu. They will keep hunting our people.”
“What do you suggest, sister?”
“I will meet with this Jackie for proper garments.” She stands firm. “I will guide our queen into her proper position while I am here.”
“And?”
Zaki gives me a stern look, her eyes hardening. “Then I will go find our people, what is left of them, and bring them here where you and our queen will be prepared and waiting for them.”
“You should not go alone,” I say, though I already know her answer.
“I will not be alone.” She straightens her shoulders. “I will have my Bouda and our Matriarch in spirit. They will be my guides. And let us not forget Mother Fate. She has blessed us with this second chance. The Bouda will not perish.”
Zaki walks around the table and approaches me. She draws closer, the spikes along her back lowering — respect, in Bouda terms. “Do you feel the pull toward your mate?” she asks.
Like a man who has forgotten water, my Bouda says. You stare at her like she is the only solid thing left. I growl softly at it. Zaki smiles at that, reading the answer without needing words.
“When I return,” she says, “I expect to see a cub growing in our queen.”
I frown at her, and my Bouda shifts inside me. What is the problem? My Bouda asks. Your sister is commanding you to progress our bloodline. To produce a cub for our new clan. This is our duty.
“My mate is not a breeding vessel,” I say.
Zaki rolls her eyes. “You want to court her? Fine. But remember your duty to the clan. Just because we are on Wintermoon does not mean we abandon our traditions.”
“My mate said she does not want a servant. She wants a partner.”
A smirk crosses Zaki’s face. She begins to circle me, her ridge climbing with each step.
“Give it a week, brother,” she says. “Kendra will fall into her role quickly. She is independent now because she has to be. This world she lives in does not favor community. We will offer her that.” She stops in front of me.
“Kendra does not understand that she should be worshipped, not worked like a dog. We will show her that.”
I start to speak, but my Bouda interrupts. Yes, we will elevate our queen to her rightful place. We will build a proper clan home worthy of...
We both freeze at the sound of movement upstairs. Kendra is awake. Zaki and I look toward the ceiling, both inhaling deeply. Kendra is moving around the bedroom, her scent shifting as she searches through the shopping bags. She smells confused, uncertain.
“I will go assist her,” I say, already moving toward the stairs.
Zaki grabs my arm. “No. Let our queen have her autonomy. We must not rush or push her. We must ease her into the comfort of our culture.”
I nod, but I cannot help walking to the edge of the stairs.
Zaki snatches the cloth from my hand with a sigh.
I listen to the sounds from above, cataloging them: Kendra brushing her teeth, water running, fabric rustling as she finds clothes and changes into them. Then footsteps approaching the stairs.
When she appears at the top of the staircase, my breath catches.
Her hair is no longer pulled back but fluffed out around her face, the tight coils framing her features perfectly.
The natural curls form a crown of sorts, dense and textured.
She wears a fitted shirt and pants that press against her curves, simple but striking on her.
She is magnificent, my Bouda says. A queen in truth. I know.
She stops at the bottom of the stairs and smiles at me. She looks rested, radiant, her scent stronger now. She smells safe, like home.
“Good morning, my Bouda guard,” she says, and her voice carries no mockery, only a soft teasing that pulls my ridge flat. I bow my head. “Maj...” Remember, my Bouda cuts in. Use her name. “Kendra,” I say instead.
She rubs her belly absently, and my mind fills with unbidden images of her carrying my cub, her body swelling with new life. But that is not for now. That is for later, when she understands, when she chooses. With the Bouda, the female must always be the initiator. That is our way.
I step aside to let her pass, but follow closely behind her into the kitchen. My Bouda urges me to feed her, to provide, but I hold back, watching as she goes to the sink and washes her hands. She glances over her shoulder at me and giggles.
“Force of habit,” she says with a shrug.
She turns to Zaki, who is finishing with the table. “Good morning, Zaki.”
My sister immediately stops what she is doing and bows her head. “Kendra,” she says, her voice formal.
Kendra opens the refrigerator and pulls out the leftover container from last night. I almost laugh at Zaki’s face. My sister says nothing about the food, but she does not have to.
Kendra puts her food in the microwave and presses the buttons. While the machine hums, she leans against the counter and looks at us both.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” she asks. “I looked out the window and the snow has stopped.”
“I must find this seamstress named Jackie,” Zaki says.
“I must chop wood for the fireplace and hunt for fresh meat,” I add.
Kendra tilts her head. “Hopefully for you. I’d prefer something from the market.”
Zaki and I go quiet. The microwave beeps in the silence.
I can see it now, my Bouda laments. She will fill her belly with that disgusting processed meat, feeding our future cubs with...
My Bouda makes a gagging sound in my head, and Kendra looks me and Zaki, her brow furrowing.
“What?” she asks.