22
CASHOL
I t is hard to leave her side, but eventually I must go out. There are roots to be gathered and stored,
before anyone can even think to comment on what happened yesterday. The others in the tribe give
me uncertain looks when I emerge, and I see Kemli near the fire, sewing a tunic, a sad expression on her face. She gives me a hopeful glance, then looks over at our cave, where the privacy screen is up again, and her expression changes to one of sadness again.
Kemli is so motherly, she probably thinks she is to blame. Meh-gan’s tears probably upset Kemli as much as they do me.
“My cousin,” Vektal calls, jogging up to me. “Where do you go this morning?”
I gesture at the packs I have slung over my shoulder. “On a most dangerous hunt,” I joke. “I am gathering roots to fill the supply cave again.”
Vektal purses his lips, then nods. “May we speak before you go?”
“Of course.”
My cousin accompanies me out of the cave and into the snow. The day is a pleasant one, the twin suns casting their light down on the glittering landscape. It is such a shame that so many days are full of flying snow, because that means my Meh-gan must stay inside where it is warm. On a day like today, it is a good day to go fishing…and yet she will not leave our cave. I fight back a sigh of frustration. Perhaps I will finish my task early and then we can spend what is left of the day together.
“So…” Vektal says when we are alone. “Georgie tells me Meh-gan thinks everyone blames her.”
I nod. “She feels uncertain of her place with us and this does not help. I go to get roots so she will worry less about what was destroyed.”
Vektal crosses his arms over his chest and gazes out at the distant cliffs. “No one blames her. Does she truly think that we believe she chewed through the storage baskets to taste each root?”
I shrug. “It does not matter what we believe, only what Meh-gan believes.” I pause. “And what the rest of the tribe believes.”
“No one thinks she did it.” Vektal shakes his head. “Kemli is devastated. Even now she feels she is to blame and is making a tunic for Meh-gan to try to apologize.”
I suspected as much. “That is thoughtful of her. Meh-gan will be surprised.”
“Georgie cried,” Vektal says flatly. “I did not like it.”
“She cried?”
He nods, his jaw set into a grim line. “She feels it is her fault, too. I have not said anything to the others because Kemli will make another tunic out of guilt and she already has enough to do.”
“Meh-gan will be upset that Shorshie is sad,” I admit. “I am not sure I should tell her.”
“Do not. They are both carrying kits. Everything makes them cry.” He exhales deeply, as if tired. “The night before, Georgie cried because her feet were cold. And before that, she cried because she missed something called kah-fee.” He shakes his head. “I tell you this because you and Meh-gan recently resonated. Now that she is carrying your kit, her mood will be very…tender. You should expect many tears.” He rubs a hand down his face. “Many, many tears.”
I laugh at my cousin’s frustrated expression. “Is this why you are so eager to hunt some mornings?”
Vektal gives me a wary look. “They cannot help it. It is the kit that makes them weepy.”
Perhaps that is part of the reason that Meh-gan is so upset, but I know it goes deeper. She desperately wants to feel secure with her spot in the tribe, and now she does not. It does not matter that it is not a big deal in my eyes, because it is a big deal in hers….and so I will fix it. I hold one of the empty packs out to my cousin.
“You can go root hunting with me if you like.”
He takes the bag immediately. “I think this is a good idea.” He pauses, and then admits in a low voice, “Georgie cried this morning because she did not like the way I looked at her in a dream she had.” He shakes his head. “Be ready, cousin. Be ready for tears.”
I just laugh again. Hearing this makes me feel a little better, but I will not rest until Meh-gan is satisfied….even if it takes until our kit is born.
MEGAN
I’m a little afraid to leave the cave in the afternoon. I hide in there all morning, busying myself with work, but a few people come by to visit and scratch at the screen, but I turn them all away, calling out that I have a headache. It’s such a bad lie but I don’t care. My head does hurt, just from the stress. And I’m not ready to talk to anyone just yet. Not even Josie, whose chirpy voice tells me that she has no idea what’s going on or what I’m upset over. In a way, that’s good. It means people aren’t gossiping.
But it also makes me feel like I can’t talk to anyone.
Well, other than Cashol, but he’s out right now cleaning up “my” mess.
My heart fills with affection for him. He’s been so good to me. He hasn’t made me feel like I’m to blame, or that I’m crazy for getting upset. He just hugged me and promised to fix it. I don’t deserve someone as good and caring as him…but I’m lucky that my cootie chose him for me anyhow.
When I first got here, I used to imagine what it’d be like to be mated to each guy. What life would be like with someone as silent and calm as Warrek, or as volatile as Bek, as hot-tempered as Hassen, who acts first and thinks later. I can’t picture any of them now, not now that I know what Cashol is like, how he can be funny and goofy and sometimes sly, or achingly thoughtful and sweet. How utterly supportive he is. How he always tries to make me happy, as if he’s got no other goal in life than to be my biggest supporter.
I’m so fucking lucky to have him. I swipe at my eyes, because they feel leaky all over again. Would anyone else make me feel this way? So supported? So loved?
Never.
In that moment, I realize it’s all going to be okay. Not because of something I do, but because Cashol will make it okay. If someone gives me shit or says I was the problem with the food, he’ll be all charming and teasing and make them feel silly, or he’ll just fix it. He won’t let anyone toss me out on my ass because he’s got a way of getting what he wants. And I know he wants me happy.
My heart feels full at the realization, and I spend all afternoon thinking about what a wonderful person my mate is. I can’t wait for him to come home so I can see his big smile crease his narrow face, to hear him joke about something, to tease me about my fascination with feet. It’s just his feet that do something to me, though.
Just like his smile makes everything in the day better. His laugh makes me feel joy. His touch makes me breathless.
I miss him fiercely, and I hate that he’s been gone all day. I want to kiss him. I want to curl up in his lap and have him hold me. I want to slide my hand into the front of his pants and give him the same release he gives me every day, just because he likes going down on me. I shiver and clench my thighs together at the thought, feeling achy and needy. When he comes home tonight, I’m gonna give him the best damn welcome, I decide.
A nice, delicious dinner, a mate that’s thrilled to see him, and then I’m going to seduce the hell out of him.
Not because I think it’s what he wants, or what’s expected of me, but because I want to do it. Because I’m excited to touch him. Because I’m hungry for more of his warmth, his laughter, his body, the way he groans when he touches me, as if he never knew something could be so damn good.
Just thinking about him makes me breathless.
I put a few fuel chips on the fire, stoking the flames, and start making tea. The suns should be going down, and hopefully Cashol will be home soon. I smooth my hand over my hair, and as I do, I hear a distant
conversation.
It sounds a bit like my mate.
I move to the screen in front of my cave’s entrance and peek out. Sure enough, there’s my mate, two packs utterly bulging full of roots on his back. Vektal is nearby, but sees Georgie and immediately veers toward her in a way that makes my heart melt for my friend. Cashol heads for the supply cave, no doubt to drop off his load, and I emerge from our cave, happy to see him.
He’s getting the best damn foot rub tonight, I decide.
Before I can get to the supply cave, I hear voices. I pause, then move to the cave wall, hiding in the shadows so I can eavesdrop. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself.
“That is a great many roots,” I hear Asha say, and inwardly I cringe. Asha is about my age, but she’s gorgeous and one of the few sa-khui females so she tends to swan around like a queen bee. I avoid her, because I know she has a sharp tongue and a bitter outlook. The fact that she’s there to talk to Cashol is not good.
“We need a great many,” another voice says, and I recognize Bek. Ugh. This just went from bad to worse.
He sounds a little bitter. “Since a great many were ruined.”
My stomach clenches and I feel tears threaten.
“It was not my mate, so do not even suggest it,” Cashol’s voice is clear and loud, and brooks absolutely no argument. “Do not even think it.”
I’m such a dork, because I absolutely squirm with pleasure to hear him say that.
“Who else would say such a foolish thing?” Bek asks.
“Be fair,” Asha says, and I’m surprised to hear that. “We have all done silly things in the past. I left the lids off the baskets once, and old Drenol gave me a tongue lashing I did not forget. Sometimes we do not mean to cause problems, but they just happen. No one is to blame. There is no malice involved.”
I’m surprised that Asha is defending me. I don’t think we’ve ever said two words to each other, but I’m filled with warmth that she has my back, even without me knowing it.
“Bah.” Bek says. “Now we must all work harder because she was careless.”
“She was not careless.” Cashol’s voice is crisp and strong and without a hint of its normal teasing. If anything, he sounds irritated. “And do not suggest such a thing to me, Bek. You know no one works harder
than my mate. Admit it is so.”
There is a long pause.
Then, “She is a hard worker,” Bek admits grudgingly. “I did not mean to imply otherwise.”
“My Meh-gan is worth more than everything in this storage cave,” Cashol says, utterly firm and confident in what he’s saying. “If it would make her happy, I would toss all of this out into the snow and gather it again, just to make her smile. I only hunt these roots because she worries we will think badly of her and the tribe is important to her. I do not replace them out of guilt. I replace them to ease her mind.”
I press my fingertips to my lips, surprised. He sounds so very angry. So pissed that they even dare to mention my name.
“It is just silliness in a tribe that likes to chatter too much around a fire,” Asha says casually. “Everyone likes your pretty mate. Ease that kink out of your tail, Cashol. We mean no harm.”
“You think you mean no harm, but even careless words can hurt. The humans do not think like we do, and I will not have her upset by anyone in this tribe, understand?” Cashol’s practically growling at them. He’s scolding them. For me.
I am filled with so much damn love for that man right now.
The moment the thought ripples through my brain, I know it’s true. I love Cashol. I adore him. He makes me so damn happy. Even when I’m stressed or worried, he makes me feel like it’ll be all right as long as he’s right there with me. I love him, and I love his caring spirit, how he jokes and teases but he’s always one hundred percent on my side…no matter who he’s talking to. Just like I can’t imagine resonating to anyone else, I can’t imagine sharing the rest of my life with anyone else—on Earth or here.
Earth guys aren’t made like Cashol. They might be smoking hot and built, they might be rippling with abs, or teasing and charming. They might be utterly devoted to a girl…but they’re never all those things at once.
Cashol’s everything I ever wanted or needed.
My eyes brim with tears again, but this time it’s not because I’m sad, it’s because I feel like shouting with pure joy. I want to shout at the rest of the tribe— that’s my man!
But they’ll just think I’m crazy. Of course he is your man, I can imagine one of the elders saying, a look of genuine puzzlement on their weathered faces. No one would think otherwise .
“We understand,” Asha says from inside the cave, interrupting my giddy thoughts. “Come, Bek, let us leave Cashol alone before he starts attacking us for breathing wrong.” She chuckles, and Bek grunts, and there’s a shuffling sound inside.
I sink into the shadows, not wanting them to notice that I’m here. That I listened in on everything. The sa- khui don’t care much about eavesdropping, but they like to pretend privacy to give people their space, even when we’re all living in a cave together, and I don’t want to make Asha and Bek uncomfortable. I wait for them to leave, Asha talking about the upcoming brutal season and the heavy snows it will bring. They head toward the large central area of the cave, and as they do, I slip into the supply cavern. At the back of the cave, kneeling beside a few baskets, Cashol works to fill them with the large, round not-potatoes. I glance around me. There’s an old privacy screen by the entrance, the decorative stitches on it faded and a rip in the corner.
Someone must have made a new one and discarded this one, but it works for my purposes. I grab it and put it over the entrance.
Suddenly, it’s really dark in the cave, almost all of the light gone.
“What?” Cashol asks, clear surprise in his voice. He calls out. “Someone is in here.”
He must not see me then, the shadows being too deep. I move forward in the darkness, my fingers brushing his hair. “It’s me,” I whisper.
“Meh-gan?” I can feel him turn in surprise. “Did you just awaken? I am putting these away but I will not be long—”
I slide my hand along his jaw in the darkness and then press my fingertips to his lips. “Shhh. You have to keep your voice down.”
“And why is that?” There’s amusement in his tone.
“Because I’m going to seduce you in here,” I whisper, and lean in, licking the shell of his ear. “And I don’t want them to hear us, so you’re going to need to be quiet.”
