Chapter 11
Jeltom
I wanted to stay in Mariska’s kitchen all day and kiss her sweet mouth.
The gift… it wasn’t at all what I thought I was getting, but she assured me she was extremely happy with it.
I could not imagine why she’d enjoy a bag of fine, brownish powder.
When she wasn’t looking, I’d dabbed some of the stuff on my tongue and discovered it was extremely bitter—disgusting.
She insisted I’d love the brownies she’d bake me.
I would much rather carry her into the bedroom so that we could consummate our true mating.
This knowledge still boggled my mind, and I’d lain awake all night considering it.
Before I sank one—or even better, both—of my cocks inside of her, I had to tell her about it.
I just wanted to make sure I had all the facts, that I wasn’t spinning some wild tale.
In my heart, I knew it was true. We had all the signs written about in Pyra and Pato’s stories.
I’d pulled up countless research papers on my datapad last night and could only confirm what Danitalin had instantly concluded.
There was a kind of pheromone dependency between true mates in the early stages before the bond was established.
The symptoms weren’t agreed upon in all readings, but most sources concluded that they included sensitive skin, a deep ache in the bones, and—for males—an increase in muscle mass and aggression.
Females, on the other hand, tended to get sick more quickly when apart, exhibiting symptoms very similar to the flu.
It all fit; that was exactly what the two of us had been experiencing, and I could not deny that the moment I’d decided to help Mariska, she had become a complete obsession.
I’d fixated on helping her, wanting her, protecting her from the start.
This was probably not what Avertom had hoped for when he’d sent her into my orbit, but I was willing to bet my cousin would crow with delight once he discovered how successful his matchmaking had been.
Unfortunately, with the farm so far behind on much of its work, Valentine’s Day couldn’t mean that I took the day off. So, after I’d kissed her until she was dazed and her mouth was this delightful pink, I was forced to excuse myself and get back to work.
I wanted to test my latest round of modifications for the wine-turned-vinegar.
If I was right about my latest theory, we could actually have a wine from her own vineyard with our dinner tonight—a dinner I’d arranged with Avertom to be delivered.
I couldn’t wait to share all my favorite foods with her.
Some were quite similar to the things she made, so I was certain she’d like what I’d ordered.
Mariska did not seem to mind that I had to go, but she grabbed my arm just before I was out the door.
“You know, Valentine’s isn’t all about the guy giving gifts and stuff.
It’s a chance to connect and both show each other how much you appreciate the other.
And I appreciate so much all you’ve done already.
I would have lost this place if not for you, and I don’t know how I could ever repay you.
” I wasn’t sure if my half-growled “Then don’t” was the right answer, but it had made her laugh, so I counted it as a win.
The shield generator was working, if only as a stopgap measure until it could be replaced.
I’d had to use all the spare parts Avertom had brought, but it would now activate through my comm when we needed it, and I made sure to keep an eye on all the meteor storm alerts.
All her windows had received an extra lock, too, and I’d gotten the hole in the barn roof properly fixed.
My current project, besides the wine, was to fix the barn’s climate control so that the barrels would always be stored in the same cool environment.
I also had another batch of bots lying on a workbench in the barn, which, once fixed up, would maintain the vines next summer.
I also had samples being analyzed from soil collected all over, to make sure we could balance nutrients.
I’d collected those this morning. After seeing the state of the soil while confronting that pair of trespassers last night, I was worried the grapes would stop producing in the coming years if we didn’t fix it.
I realized I was thinking long-term already, like I’d never leave.
When I first came back to Llykhe, the idea of staying here would have felt claustrophobic.
I only came back because I needed a change of pace, a bit of a breather.
To see some familiar faces and ground myself in the land that had once been home.
The mountains and hills that had barely been able to contain the wild child I’d been—a child who had turned my mother’s hair gray well before I’d left the house.
Thinking of leaving when Mariska was here was what made me feel like the walls were closing in now.
I couldn’t. She was where I belonged, and it had taken me two careers and a whole lot of traveling to find her, right back where I’d started.
I wasn’t going anywhere, and I was taking all I’d learned growing up in these hills to make her home, her farm, and her life here a success.
“You’ll be on time?” I asked when I called Avertom early that afternoon.
My body still tingled from the brief hug and make-out session not long ago, when Mariska had brought over lunch.
I’d enjoyed prolonging the moment and feeding the supposed pheromone dependency with touch—because it gave me pleasure, it made her smile, and I didn’t want her to feel sick again when she didn’t get what she needed.
“Of course I’ll have your damn food delivered on time.
Why is this so important again?” my cousin asked, part offended and part just being an ass because he liked teasing me until I reacted.
He was also just curious, trying to fish for information on how things were going between Mariska and me, and I wasn’t talking.
“It is for Valentine. It is a human custom. Look it up, you have fingers; you know how to perform a search.” Avertom might act like he was content just being the saloon owner, and he was definitely very attached to the laughing Nia, but he was no dummy.
Out of everyone in town, he might just be one of the strongest empaths around, and he’d always hidden it.
“Ah, a human custom, huh? Mariska is getting to you, admit it. You want to take her under your wing and protect her forever. Just like with that injured Nia you once found.” He referred to the Nia I’d rescued in the mountains, the one who’d clawed me to hell and back as I nursed her broken paw.
It was a very fitting comparison, because six-year-old me had gotten extremely attached.
That Nia had kept me company until she died of old age and I enlisted in the army.
To call Mariska a Nia would probably highly offend her; she’d say she was much less helpless than that.
I was pretty sure she was right. She might have struggled to hold the heavy pistol she’d dug out of her closet last night, but I had no doubt she knew how to use it, and it pleased me to know she was so ready to defend herself.
Most Aderians on Llykhe were a little too complacent when it came to protection—the meteor storms were their only worry.
“There are no wings and no Nia,” I said firmly, but I discovered I was smiling.
“There might be a chance—a very big chance—that I’ll stay.
” I didn’t need to explain that further: stay, as in stay on this farm with Mariska.
Avertom would instantly know what I meant, because I never talked about staying anywhere.
I needed a goal, a purpose, and I’d found it in her.
“Good,” he drawled. “See you with the food tonight.” As it turned out, I did not see him with the food later.
He sent someone else: a young girl with eyes the size of saucers and a mouth that wouldn’t stand still.
She could only tell me that my cousin had abruptly left after seeing a woman in his bar, but nothing else.
Since Avertom never left the Laughing Nia, not even to his brother’s or father’s care, that made no sense.
It would worry me, but I had my true mate to seduce tonight with food, wine, and candles, exactly according to her Valentine traditions.
Avertom could take care of himself, and if he’d left, it was probably for something very important.
I shook off the suspicion that he’d sensed something was up, and that the woman the girl couldn’t describe, other than that she dressed well, was none other than Koratalin.
Why I kept thinking that was who might have taken an interest in me and Mariska’s farm, I wasn’t sure, but I was worried it was true.
I knocked on her door with the satchel of food because I didn’t want to presume I could just barge in.
There weren’t any lights on yet, but she had to be in there—I hadn’t seen her for a few hours.
She’d cleared and winter-prepped her vegetable patch and spent an hour sanding the wood of the porch railings so they could be painted.
Her bucket of tools was still standing by the front door, as if she’d left it there only moments ago and was going to come back to it soon.
There was no answer, so I went around the house to the kitchen door and peered inside.
I had neglected to tell her I’d take care of dinner tonight.
I had assumed—perhaps incorrectly—that she knew that, as it was a Valentine tradition for the male to provide that day.
There was a pink, heart-shaped decoration on the back door, possibly cut out of paper and decorated with swirls and curls with a pencil.
That hadn’t been there that morning. The kitchen, however, appeared to be empty.
My gift had been tucked away, the kitchen straightened, and flowers from the living room had been brought in here to decorate the table.
So she had been preparing for a dinner together, but where was she now? In her bedroom? Getting dressed? I had read in Danitalin’s instructions that it was customary to dress up neatly for such a dinner. For that reason, I had hung out my best shirt and cleaned my leather pants earlier.
Worry won out, so I unlocked the door and went inside.
The food would stay warm in the special containers until we needed it, so I placed the bag on the counter and headed deeper into her home.
“Mariska?” I called out cautiously, but my senses told me she wasn’t here.
The house was empty. So, where could she have gone?
Did that crimelord go after her when my back was turned?
How? I hadn’t heard a single beep from my perimeter alerts.
I didn’t have to think twice, I raced outside, food forgotten, and snatched up my laser pistol when I reached the barn.
Then I checked all the sensors, but they were running in optimal condition and hadn’t noticed anything.
No, I realized, they hadn’t gone off because I had not set them to alert for that.
But someone had walked out of the perimeter an hour ago.
Where had Mariska gone, and why hadn’t she warned me?
A sense of dread washed over me. Though I knew she was her own person, free to go wherever she wanted, I was absolutely terrified. Why hadn’t she told me she’d left—or where she’d gone? What if someone had gotten to her on the road? What if Koratalin had found her?