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I feel ashamed. “I might not have picked you at first, but you are the only one I can see myself with. You are the one that is right for me…except that you keep leaving,” I add, unable to resist jabbing at him. “Twice now you have abandoned me.”
He gives me a small, rueful smile that makes my belly flutter. “It is because the throbbing here,” he begins and presses my hand over his heart, “means that it makes the throbbing here,” he says as he leads my hand to his cock, “unbearable.”
“Do you think it’s more bearable for me if you leave?” I retort, and stroke his cock through his leathers just to be spiteful. And maybe because I enjoy teasing him. Maybe. I feel a shiver move through my body as he hardens under my grip, and his khui begins to sing even louder. I ca
“I thought of Jo-see, actually,” Hemalo says.
That stops me cold. I lift my hand, frowning. “Jo-see?” That small, chattery human?
He nods. “Jo-see left and she was able to bear not mating to Haeden for almost a full turn of the moon. I thought perhaps if I left, it would give you time to adjust to the idea of being my mate again. That I could return when you were ready.”
It is the sweetest—and most ridiculous—thing I have ever heard. “That is foolish.”
He sighs and rubs his brow. “I seem to think many foolish things around you.”
“This is true. Why did you not talk to me?”
“You think I do not wish to talk? I talk. It is you that does not wish to listen.”
I scowl at him. “You never talk to me. You never tell me what you are thinking. You force me to guess, and I guess wrong. I would never tell you to leave our cave, and I would never tell you to walk away when we resonate! It solves nothing!”
“You never talk to me, either. You think it is easy for me to see you hurting and when I try to find out what is bothering you, you turn me away? You snarl at me and push me aside? You never tell me how you feel. I am your mate. Your happiness is everything to me. You think it does not wound my heart when you want nothing to do with me?”
I glare at him, but the tears come again, because I know he is right. I am not good at expressing myself when I get angry. I shut down and hide away. “I will try harder,” I grit out, and it sounds very sullen, even to my own ears.
“All I want is for you to talk to me when you are troubled or when you are hurting.”
“I am hurting right now,” I say hoarsely, thinking of Shasak out in the cold with his dirty, hungry mother. More tears start to flow from my eyes, and I ca
“I know you are.” He strokes my mane, his hands and voice soothing. “You are full of love and want a kit of your own. You want to be a mother.”
“I am a mother. My kit is dead.” I sob. “I still miss her.”
“I miss her every day, too. That will not go away, Asha. But we can keep our memories of her and still move on with our lives. She would want you to live. She would want you to be happy.” He strokes my cheek. “And you have not been happy.”
I have not. Not since she breathed her last. I have been miserable and tried to make Hemalo miserable, too. “Sometimes I worry I do not know how to be happy.”
“I think you do.” His caresses feel wonderful against my skin, and he smells so good. I love huddling against him. For the first time in a long time, I feel warm and protected and strangely calm. I am crying and upset, but…I still feel it will all be all right. Is this what I have been missing? Hemalo’s soothing love?
Perhaps I am a bigger fool than he is.
I sniff, snuggled against him. “I am still going to miss Hashala.”
“I know.”
“And now Shasak, too. He was mine, even if I only had him for a day.” I barely had Hashala for longer.
“You can miss them both,” he agrees. “But you ca
He is right. Still, I think of Shasak and how small and helpless he was in my arms. His mother was starving and injured, and the one-eyed mate to her not much better. “What if they ca
Hemalo pats my back, reassuring me like he would a kit. Once I would have found it irritating, but today I find it soothing. “If you wish, we can spend a few days gathering roots and bringing them back to the cave so they will have food to eat. We can see if they will follow us, since they know we have food. If they do, perhaps we can lead them somewhere where the food is more plentiful.”
I suck in a breath. What he is suggesting, no other hunter would consider. Take time during the brutal season to feed metlaks? But Hemalo does not think like a hunter. He never has. “You would do such a thing?”
“Of course. You are my mate, and it is important to you.” He rests his chin against the top of my head, next to my horns. “And for a day, he was my son, too.”
Tears blur my eyes again. “You are a good mate. I am sorry I have been so awful to you.”
“Not awful.” He touches my cheek again. “Just unhappy. And I did not work harder to make you happy. I retreated into my own hurt, thinking I was doing what was best for you. I will talk to you from now on, I promise.”
“And you will not leave?”
“Never,” he whispers. His fingers graze my chin once more, and then he tilts my face up. We gaze at each other for a long moment, and then he leans in and presses his mouth to mine.
I draw back, surprised. “What are you doing?”
“A mouth-mating, like the humans do.” He looks puzzled. “Did I do it wrong?”
“I…do not know.” I press my fingers to my lips, curious. My khui is singing loudly, but I do not know if it is because we are snuggled close or because the mouth-mating is exciting.
His smile is gentle. “Then we will have to practice it.”