21
CASHOL
W hen I return to the cave, something is amiss. Meh-gan is not near the fire like she usually is,
watching for me. I have grown used to seeing her eyes light up at my return, and I am hungry for
the smile that curves her pretty mouth. Instead, there is a group standing near the fire, talking quietly, and all look miserable. Nearby, Jo-see scrapes a skin in silence.
Now I know something is wrong for Jo-see to be silent.
My traps were empty this day, and so I return with nothing. I head over to my cave, and notice that the privacy screen is up. Is my mate napping? Is she unwell? Frowning, I look over at the group near the fire, and immediately, Shorshie heads for me. She has a worried expression on her face and pulls me aside. “There’s a small problem,” she whispers. “Can we talk?”
I shrug and let her pull me with her, casting a longing look in my cave’s direction. If Meh-gan is asleep, I should like to wake her with my mouth between her soft thighs. “Let us speak quickly.”
“I think Megan thinks we hate her.”
That snaps my attention back to Vektal’s mate. “What?”
She twists her hands and makes a face, then quickly tells me of what happened earlier. “No one was accusing her of anything. You know Farli’s young and probably thought Megan was serious with that joke, but no one really blames Megan. I tried to talk to her and she threw the screen up, but I can hear her crying.”
Shorshie looks upset. “Everyone is just devastated they made her cry. Please, please let her know that no one blames her?”
I nod, racing toward my cave. I was glad to see the privacy screen when I arrived, but now it seems ominous. I push it aside, looking for my mate, and immediately see she is at the back of the cave, stuffing things into a pack. Her face is wet with tears and her eyes are red-rimmed and miserable.
“Meh-gan, my mate. What is wrong?”
She looks up at me, her eyes full of pure misery, and a fresh round of tears bursts from her. “Nothing.”
Are we back to this, then? “If you say nothing is wrong, my pretty one, then why are you packing a bag?” I sit down next to her and pull it out of her arms.
She takes it back. “I think I have to leave.”
“Leave?”
Her hands shake as she swipes at her eyes. “I can’t stay here if I’m a problem.”
“No one thinks you are a problem—”
“You don’t know that!” she cries, heartbroken. “You weren’t here!”
“I know what Shorshie has told me,” I say calmly, steadily. I need to be reasonable for her, to be strong, even though all I want to do is jump out of the cave and yell at Shorshie and the others for making my Meh- gan cry. I pull the bag out of her arms one more time and take her hands in mine, holding them tightly. “But I would like to hear what you have to tell me, my mate. Will you speak of what happened that has made you so sad?”
Tearfully, she recounts what happened this afternoon, and her worries. She tells me about how she should have never joked about the food, that she would never touch it. She feels that if she stays, she will always be blamed whenever there is a problem. She feels this cannot be a home for her now.
It seems such a small thing to be so upset over, but my Meh-gan is devastated. She has already worried that her position in the tribe is tenuous, and this only hurts her heart even more. No matter how much Shorshie insists that Meh-gan is not to blame, my Meh-gan will blame herself. And she is right to a certain extent…we are a small tribe. How often do we tease Harrec about how he faints at the sight of his blood? How much is shy Zennek teased for his confident, sultry mate, or Dagesh for the noises he and No-rah enthusiastically make in the privacy of their own cave? Someone is bound to joke.
Only Meh-gan will not find it funny. It will hurt her spirit.
And so I must fix this, because I cannot bear the sight of my mate’s sadness. It tears me up inside.
I cup her sweet face. “Do not cry, my resonance. It will be all right.”
“I just…” she hiccups. “I would never…”
“I know.” I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs. “I know you would not. Shorshie knows you would not.
Everyone knows you would not. They see you working every day. You do not sit around and wait for others to feed you. No one thinks you would destroy food just to be cruel.”
“But Farli—”
“Is a kit. When I was a kit, I believed that my mother was in the Ancestors’ Cave because my father had said she joined the ancestors after giving birth to me. So I thought that if I ran away and went there on my own, I would find her.” I give her a smile. “My father could not believe my foolishness. Kits are full of foolish thoughts, my mate. No one truly believes Farli’s words, I promise.”
“Farli is sa-khui,” Meh-gan says softly. “I’m not. That makes it different.”
“You are not leaving the tribe over a few roots,” I promise her. “They are easily replaced. I will dig them up tomorrow and fill the storage cave once more. Problem solved.”
The tears threatening to spill over her eyes again abate, just a little. “You…you will?” She sniffles.
She looks so surprised that my pride is wounded. Why is she shocked I would do this? She feels responsible, so it is my duty as her mate to ensure she is happy. “Have I not always said that we are together?
We are one? I will not allow anyone to speak poorly of my mate. No one will ever doubt you.” I give her a fierce look. “Not to my face.”
Meh-gan sobs and flings her arms around my neck. “Why are you so good to me?”
I pat her back awkwardly. Why am I good to her? “Because I am your mate. It is my job to make you smile…and it seems I am doing a terrible job of it this day.”
She gives a watery laugh. “Are you kidding? You always make me smile.”
Not enough, I think, and I vow to do more.
M- , she is terrified I will abandon her halfway through the night. I listen to her shuddery breathing, holding her tight against me, and wish that I could take away her worry.
To think that my mate has been so upset over roots, of all things. It baffles the mind and yet…I understand it. Meh-gan so desperately wants to feel safe and secure with her place in the tribe, and every setback feels enormous.
I pepper her face with kisses as she wakes up, and wring a small smile from her. “I am going root hunting today,” I promise. “Do you wish to come?”
She shakes her head, and I am not entirely surprised. “I think I’ll just hide in here, if that’s all right. Maybe… maybe take a nap.” Meh-gan gives me a faint smile.
“Nap…or work on presents to give to everyone to ensure that they like you?” I know my mate far too well and already she is eyeing her basket of leather projects.
Her mouth twitches and she nudges my shoulder. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“If they do not love you like I do, then they are the fools,” I promise, and kiss her palm.
Meh-gan sucks in a breath, her eyes wide. “You…you love me?”
“You doubt this?” I put her hand over my heart dramatically. “I have loved you since the moment I first saw you. You looked at me as if you could not tell if you wished to scowl at me or smile at me…and you smiled.” I grin. “But it was a smile that promised you would gut me if I crossed you. That was when I knew my heart was no longer mine.”
Her mouth trembles. “You’re too good for me.”
“No, I am exactly the mate you deserve.” I nibble on her palm again. “Some would say that is a curse.”
She giggles. Just a little, but it is enough.
