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Perhaps she was never in the tribe after all.
Incredulous, I all but charge through the cage-cave, eyeing the shadows. There is nothing in here, no furs to sleep upon, no weapons, no water to drink from, no nothing. The stone floor is smooth and even beneath my feet, cold but not unpleasantly so. The ceiling above is equally smooth, the worn rock a few handspans higher than my horns. It is not a very big cave but it is clear this is not a place meant for comfort. It is meant to trap.
But there is someone nearby. Mymate.
I almost miss her, too. I stalk through the cave, hunting for her, and almost stumble over the female in my haste. There, huddled in a corner, is the female of my dreams. She is human, with a pale mane. Her plump limbs are barely covered with a strange, thin tunic, and her teeth chatter, her breath puffing into mist from the cold. She has pale skin, large teats, and big, frightened eyes.
Big, frightened eyes that have no khui-glow inside them.
That is not good. She will not survive without a khui.
Yet my khui has decided that she is mine, even though she does not have one of her own. Even now, my chest sings so very loudly that there is no mistaking the resonance that compels me. I drop to my knees beside her, fascinated. Her scent is delicate and strange, yet the moment I breathe it in, it feels comfortable and right. I tap my chest, unable to take my eyes off her. “R’jaal,” I whisper reverently. “I am R’jaal. I am a hunter of Tall Horn clan.”
“Rosalind,” she breathes, shrinking back as I crowd her. “I’m a librarian. And…I don’t know how I got here or what I’m doing here.”
Well, that answer is obvious to me. I smile calmly at her, even though I want nothing more than to push her thighs apart and taste her, taste my long-awaited resonance mate. “You are here because you are mine.”
Her little brows furrow together and she gazes up at me, confused. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I am your mate. We have been brought together so we can make young. Truly, this is a great day.” Suddenly the stranger outside no longer matters. The strange bars of the cage I am in no longer matter.
My mate ishere.
“You’re crazy,” she tells me, her expression appalled.
I just laugh. Am I? Because I feel as if my path is clear for the first time in many turns of the seasons. This female, this R’slind the Berry-and is mine, and nothing else matters. I hesitate and then ask the question foremost on my mind. “Can I taste you? I promise to lick your cunt very well, but I have been dreaming of this for far too long.”
R’slind makes an outraged sound and her small hand smacks me across the mouth.
She.
Is.
Adorable.
I have never been so happy in all my days.
Epilogue II
Two Weeks Later
I’REC
Not for the first time, I am at odds with R’hosh and his mate Leezh.
“You really want to have a party now?” Leezh says, her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at me. “After everything that’s happened the last few weeks?”
“I made a vow to my mate,” I tell her, unwilling to bend on this. “The newcomers are more or less settled for now. The weather is fair. The food is plentiful, and F’lor has been patient. She wishes for a ding-ding feast to honor our mating—”
“Aweddingfeast,” Leezh corrects, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
“Whatever,” I say, cranky. “A feast to honor our mating. It is important as a tradition of her people. And I made her a promise. I will not go back on my word, and if you will not help me, then I will do it on my own.” I mimic her movements, crossing my arms over my chest as well. “But S’brina says she is a planner of human matings and she wishes to help me. She says we have a few of the special foods left from their landing, and she would like to use the last of them for our celebration.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” Leezh says, turning to her mate. “I totally want to do this now. Just to get him to keep saying it’s a ding-ding feast.” She gasps and puts her hands to her mouth. “Oh my god, I just realized the taters will be at the ding-ding feast. This might be the greatest day of my life.”
I scowl at her. Truly, this female is unpleasant. I do not know how a fierce warrior like R’hosh puts up with her. My ears feel hot, thinking about how she howled with laughter when she heard me call the new males “taters” instead of “glad-yee-aters.” As if the human tongues are not confusing enough. “Will you help me with this or not?”
R’hosh looks to his mate.
