Barbarian's hope

10

HEMALO

Next Day

I think of Asha as I stroke my cock, my hand braced on a nearby rock for support.

It is probably not wise to stand in the midst of a valley in the brutal season, my leggings down around my ankles, my cock as stiff as a spear in my hand, but resonance will not allow me to continue walking unless I sate the urge to mate. So I continue, working my hand up and down the length roughly. I close my eyes, imagining her sultry eyes and the throaty way she laughs as I enter her. I imagine her wet heat clenching tight around my length—

—And my seed spurts into the snow, so hot that it hisses and steams as it hits. I kick a bit of new snow over the evidence of my need, noting that it has changed to a thick, milky substance instead of the thin liquid I normally ejaculate. It is yet another sign that resonance has its grip tight on my body.

How in all of the snows did Haeden and his mate manage to avoid mating for nearly a full moon? It has been almost two days and I feel as if all the blood in my body—and all the sensation—has flooded to my cock and lodged there permanently. Everything bothers me—the brush of leather against my skin, the feel of the wind rustling against my tail, the hard surface of the rock under my hand—it all makes my cock stir and respond as if it has a life of its own. It is miserable.

Sometimes I think I should turn back to the vee-lage and speak to Asha, but I ca

I miss her, though. I miss her like I would miss my own tail. Her absence is an ache behind my heart…and a constant ache in my groin. But it is for her that I do this. I do not want her to feel pressured. I do not want her to feel as if I am forcing her into a decision, or that I do not respect the grief she still carries for our little Hashala. So away I go.

I adjust my clothing and then pick up my spear again, using it as a walking stick. Though I do not hunt as much as the others, I am capable of taking care of myself out on the trails. I am not much with my spear, but I am good with snares and traps, and I can catch my own food for a time and work the skins. My chief was not pleased with my decision to leave, but he understood why. He knows as well as I do that Asha is sensitive and her grief for our lost kit has been overwhelming. He worries over her, too. Vektal’s mate, Shorshie, gave me a bag of dried meat for my journey and will deliver the rest of my ‘secret presents’ to Maylak so the healer is not left wanting simply because I am not there to play the game.

The weather is awful, the skies clearing just enough that snow does not pound my face constantly as I walk. It lies thick on the ground, though, at waist height in some areas. It makes walking slow and any travel cold and unpleasant. The nearest hunter cave is a day or so away at the pace I am making, but I am in no hurry. I will set up camp there, work on refilling the nearest cache, and skin for hour after endless hour to waste the time. When I can stand it no longer, then I will return.

Hopefully by then, Asha will realize that our second resonance is a gift and not something to be frightened of. Then she will accept me with open arms and a smile, and we will try again.

I walk onward, trying to turn my thoughts away from Asha. I think of the cold snow caking onto my boots, and the fact that I will have a long, chilly night ahead. I must either build a big fire to keep the breath from turning to ice in my lungs, or keep moving through the night so I do not freeze into an icicle. I should concentrate on that and the deadly cold. Instead, I am thinking about Asha. Does she think about me? About the kit we might make together?

Or are her thoughts more…passionate in nature? I envision her in her furs, her fingers sliding back and forth over her slick, dusky-blue folds. They will be wet with arousal, the scent of her perfuming the air. She will have the tip of her tail in her mouth, unable to resist the additional pleasure that a tiny bite on the end will give her.

I stop and shudder. A groan escapes me, and my cock is already hard and aching once more.

Think of something else, I command myself. Anything.

I think of leather and leatherworking. I think of Asha lying on the skins I am working on, pouting and begging me to put my mouth on her cunt even as she spreads her long legs for me.

That…is not working. I try to think of hunting instead. Animals. Dvisti. Snowcats. Setting snares.

Instead, I think of Asha and the way she lets her tail lash around my arm when I put my mouth on her cunt and lick her.

Curse the weather. I grit my teeth and grab at the waistband of my leggings again, untying the knot so I can pull my cock out and stroke it once more.

Perhaps it is because I am so focused on Asha that I do not hear the footsteps behind me until it is too late. Something hard hits my head, and then I see a flash of dirty white fur before I hit the ground.

CLAIRE

“It’s been four days. Should we go after them?” I toy with the decorative knots on the edge of my new tunic, worried.

Megan slaps at my hands. “Quit fussing. You’re going to ruin that pretty new tunic that Sevvah made for you.”

I stick my tongue out at her, momentarily distracted from my all-consuming worry over Asha. “I wish she was the one giving me all the other gifts.”

“Still?” Georgie asks, glancing over at me. She pulls Pacy’s bone dreidel out of Talie’s hands and gives it back to the little boy.

I’m sitting by the fire early this morning with the others while Stacy makes us a ‘holiday’ breakfast of eggs and not-potato latkes. Feast Day isn’t until the next day—today is Family Day, which means exchanging gifts with family and spending a meal with them. Kinda a quasi-Thanksgiving, sa-khui style. Except they’ve all thrown themselves into the whole gift-giving situation and everyone’s been handing gifts out right and left to anyone and everyone. It’s sweet, and I love that everyone’s into the holiday…

But it’s also making it that much harder to find out who my secret gift-giver is. Ugh.

I suppose I should be thankful that I’m still getting the mystery gifts. Between those and the celebrations (and my affectionate, marvelous mate being around), it’s almost serving to distract me from the fact that Asha and Hemalo have been gone for days. I get up from my stool and head over to the rolled-back awning in the longhouse, glancing out. The weather is super foul today, but of course it is. If it wasn’t, Ereven wouldn’t be sitting by the fireside, letting Farli and Sessah paint swirls all over his forearms like a big blue sa-khui canvas. “I worry about them,” I tell Georgie and Megan. “You think we should send someone after them?”

“Nope,” Georgie says in a confident voice. She grabs Talie before she can steal Pacy’s dreidel again and hands her a new toy—a woven basket with a lid. “They’re fine, I promise.”

“But how do you know?” I move back toward the women, still worried.

“Um, because they lived on this planet for hundreds of years before we got here and the cold doesn’t bother them like it does us? This isn’t their first winter, and it won’t be their last. They know how to take care of themselves. They’re fine.”

“Georgie’s right,” Megan says, rubbing the back of her little one as it nurses. “You’re stressing out over nothing. Enjoy the day, girl. Isn’t that what today is all about? Relaxing and enjoying ourselves? You’re the only one not relaxing!”

I doubt I’m the only one. But I sigh and sit back down again. “But what if—”

“Nope,” Georgie interjects before I can say more. She’s got her ‘chief’s mate’ voice going now. “Leave it alone, Claire. I promise you, they’re fine. Someone going after them would just make it worse. And do you really want to send someone away chasing those two bickering dorks when there’s hunting to be done? Do you want Ereven or any of the other hunters to miss out on the celebrations only to find Asha and Hemalo bickering—”

“And humping,” Megan adds quickly.

“—in the snow?”

I roll my eyes. “Fine, fine. I’m being a worrywart.”

“You are,” Georgie agrees with a smile. “But it’s sweet that you’re concerned. You’re being a good friend to Asha.”

She’s been a good friend to me, too. I wouldn’t have half of the stuff organized if it weren’t for her help, and she knew just how to approach people to make them excited about silly human customs. Even if she doesn’t believe it sometimes, people in this tribe care about her and love her. They want what’s best for her.

Including me.

“Claire?” Warrek asks, moving to my side. He’s got a basket in his hands.

“Oh no,” Megan moans, a horrified laugh escaping her throat. “Another?”

I gasp, getting slowly to my feet. “Warrek, is it you?”

“No,” the quiet hunter says. He has such an awkward look on his face that I feel a stab of pity for him. “I was only told to deliver it. I promise.”

I narrow my eyes at him and then cross my arms over my chest, resting them just over my baby bump. “What if I don’t want it?”

He glances over at the far end of the longhouse and then back to me. “I…uh…”

Oooh. So the gift-giver is still nearby? “They’re here, aren’t they?”

Warrek shakes his head, a panicked look moving over his features. “No. I did not say that.”

“You don’t have to.” I use Megan’s shoulder to brace myself, and maneuver my way through the crowd of people. I head for the entrance, because that’s where Warrek was looking. Sure enough, as I move to the entrance of the longhouse, I see a figure cloaked in furs hurrying away back down the main street of Croatoan village. Hmm. I look around the fire once more, but my mate is here. My friends are here. Who is it?

Ereven looks over at me, curious. I raise a finger at him, indicating I’ll be just a moment, and then head out of the lodge after my mysterious gift-giver. Time to figure out who it is.

I can’t exactly hurry after the person, but there’s only so many places one can hide in our little village. I know where to go, and so I head down the main street, then look for smoke plumes. My gift-giver’s gotten a little careless, and now I’m going to have her. Or him. The figure disappears into a hut at the far end of the village, the only one with a trickle of smoke from the teepee top of the house. I recognize the house, too. I slow down as I approach, not wanting to scare off my furtive friend. As I move toward the house, I see the privacy flap is up, and I enter, ready to confront the person.

It’s exactly who I thought it was. The moment I saw the house, I knew. And the person that looks up when I enter isn’t the least bit surprised to see me.

It’s Bek.