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Especially once she did start singing again.
Humming, really—but it was a start.
She was happy now, and I needed to feed her.
I looked around—I’d walked over a Nanuruck trail an hour ago. We were in a cavern that appeared to have no ceiling, but had very sheer walls. It was the perfect place to keep her safe. I set the bag down, twisted back, handed her the lantern, and then offered her my arms.
She pouted. “So it’s gonna be like that, is it?” she said—but her voice was teasing, and she let me pick her up regardless.
I crafted a sack for her quickly, and then took her straight up the wall.
“Oh, fuck, Niiiianen!” she howled. “There’s other ways to tell me you don’t like my singing, you know!”
I hadn’t thought that she might put the probabilistic blame for her current situation on her voice—but without me to tell her otherwise, how would she know?
I mimed eating. “I only wish for you to be full, mylove.” Hopefully she would understand when I returned with the head of another Nanuruck.
I streamed enough sticky silk against the rock wall it would’ve been able to easily hold me, much less a small human girl, and then merged the sack she was in with it for safekeeping. She’d be able to move, and I’d leave her the lantern.
I had better come back, though—there was no way for her to get down without me.
I returneda few hours later with two Nanuruck heads, strung up in a bag. It was a shame the rest of their meat was too tough for human teeth to eat, but this would last us both for several days. I was proud of myself and wanted to crow to her—but then I saw the lantern light inside the webbing I’d left her in shifting and heard her making small whimpering noises.
I dropped the heads and raced up the wall in absolute silence.
If something had gotten into the sack with her—if something was hurting her—eating her alive—my imagination ran rampant with all the ways I could’ve lost my mate before we’d ever truly bonded.
Then I heard her make a satisfied sound and she moved so that the weave of the sack shifted rhythmically and released the redolent scent that I would follow into hell.
My last pair emerged at once—having been inaugurated the prior night in my dream, they absolutely knewwhat they wanted to do, and who they wanted to do it with.
“Oh my God, Sloane,” I heard her say, talking to herself again. “What’s that. Three? Four? I can’t believe it.” Then the sack she was in started twitching anew. “God—I’m already so sensitive—it’s not fair—just one more—yeah—oh, I needed this, yeah?—”
My hands settled on my swollen last pair like I was about to steer myself.
Where?
Straight to her.
“Just—get it all out of your system before he gets back,” she told herself.
I let go of my last pair at once.
“Fuck—oh yeah—oh-my-God—oh-my-God—” and then another round of groans and shudders and hisses, and another wave of that intoxicating, indelible scent.
My priorly eager last pair inverted again.
She did wantamate.
She did wanttomate.
But not with me.
Twenty
SLOANE
“Areyou sure you know where we’re going, Nia’n’an?”
