Barbarian's Mate (7 page)

I flip it in my fingers again…and an idea hits me.

What if I leave? Just leave and not come back? Will my khui give up if I’m separated from Haeden by a hundred miles?

I keep flipping the circle of glass in my fingers. I’m not hating this idea. It’ll mean leaving everyone behind…but I already feel left out. They’ve all happily mated and are expecting me to just roll over and let Haeden run roughshod over me and give me a baby. For the last month, I’ve been the recipient of tons of sympathy glances, or looks of pity. I hate both.

I remember Tiffany telling me a few weeks ago that she wanted to leave. Just start walking and never come back. But now I get it. I don’t want to wait around for everyone to expect me to leap into Haeden’s furs. I don’t want them all watching my every move to see when I give in. I don’t want the smug looks of pity when they find out that ‘silly Josie’s still holding out’.

I can just leave.

After all, what’s tying me here? Friends? They’ve all been mated and are building families. They’re happy and in love. Even Tiffany, who wanted to leave a short time ago. I’d thought she was crazy…but back then I hadn’t walked from the Elders’ Cave to the tribal cave on my own, with nothing but a crude homemade compass. I can do it.

I think of the little cave Harlow lived in with Rukh, the one by the ocean.

I’ve…always wanted to see the ocean.

I
cannot figure
out how Jo-see made the wall open. I slap at it, over and over again, trying to find the way out. I want to go after my mate, to drag her back into the room - wet pants or not - and find out why she has changed her mind.

Her words echo in my head.
I can’t fling myself into the arms of another person that’s just going to use me
. I want to find out what she means by that. Who has used her? I will rip their heads from their bodies and stomp on their innards.

More than anything, I want more of her soft touches, the little sounds she makes when I touch her. I play them over and over in my mind until my cock is hard once more, and there is no way to ease the ache.

There is also no way out of the room. I pound against the wall over and over again, but as time passes, it becomes more and more obvious to me that she is not coming back.

So, seething, I wait. I lie down on the hard stone-like shelf, stretch out my legs, and wait for Jo-see to come back. My mind wanders to thoughts of her returning, begging my forgiveness. She’s decided she wants my touch after all. She crawls over me, all silky brown hair and eager mouth. And when I touch her? She makes more of those soft, whimpery noises that send a pulse of need right through me.

I wake up sometime later, khui humming, my cock still hard, and my breechcloth wet again from my dream.

And still no Jo-see.

Cursing, I rip one of the decorative panels from my leathers and scrub at my wet belly and groin. Twice now, I have come in my pants. I snarl as I toss the wet leather aside and then push at the wall again, trying to get it to move. When it doesn’t budge, I slam my shoulder into it, over and over again. This room will not keep me from my mate.

Nothing will.

“Haeden?” I hear a confused voice in the distance, from the far side of the wall. It is Har-loh. “Is that you?”

“Let me out,” I bellow. “The wall will not open.”

As if determined to prove me wrong, the wall opens easily a moment later — several paces down from where I am slamming my body against it. Har-loh gives me a confused look, hefting her kit onto her shoulder. Her mate is two paces behind her. “What’s going on? I didn’t realize you were still here.”

Still…here? “Of course I am here.” I slap a hand at the frustrating wall and shove past. “Where is Jo-see?”

“See, that’s the thing,” Har-loh calls after me. “I thought she was with you.”

Her words make no sense. I storm into the main area of the Elders’ Cave. The fire pit is nothing but coals. Her pack, originally next to mine by the cave entrance, is gone. Her snowshoes and her heavy outer furs are nowhere.

My khui is silent.

I rub my breast, determined not to panic. She has moved to another one of the rooms, then. She has retreated from the main cave because she needs space from me. She would not just leave. Not with resonance still singing an unfulfilled song between us.

I head back into the winding caves, toward Har-loh. “Where is Jo-see?”

“I think she left.” Her eyes are wide, upset. “Did you guys have an argument?”

I snarl at the thought and race back to the front of the cave. I take a few steps outside and there, in the falling snow, is the slushy, dragging trail that snowshoes leave behind. I bend down to touch one track. It is heading away from the Elders’ Cave, but she is not heading to the South cave, nor to the tribal cave. Instead, she is veering in a completely different direction.

Where is Jo-see going? Alone?

Is it because of me? I rub my breast again, hating the guilt that swoops through me. Was I that cruel? I am not the most patient of males but…I would never harm her.

Yet she has left, and left without saying a word to me or to Har-loh. She has crept away. I imagine her sad face, the tears falling from her eyes, the cold biting at her small human form.

I grit my teeth and return to the Elders’ Cave, determined.

Har-loh is there, holding her kit to her shoulder, worried. “Is it true? Is she gone?”

“I will go after her,” I tell Har-loh. “She will be safe under my watch.”

She bites her lip and looks at her mate. He puts a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Take food,” Rukh instructs in his broken language. “For you and Jo-see.”

I grunt in acknowledgment of his wise words. I can hunt for myself and will never starve, but it is always wise to have dried food on hand for the days when the weather is too bad to leave shelter. I heft my pack…and it’s lighter than normal. Frowning, I open it to realize that my neat, orderly things are out of place. My rations are gone, along with my extra waterskin.

A reluctant smile of admiration curves my mouth. My mate has raided my pack and taken supplies. Instead of infuriating me, it makes me feel good. She is clever and smart, my Jo-see. She will not run off into the wild unprepared. I look over at Rukh. “I will need an extra spear and knife, and some rations for myself.”

Rukh nods.

“You’ll bring her back?” Har-loh asks.

“If that is her wish.” I want to see where she is going first, and why she left without me.

Har-loh nods and looks up at Rukh, still worried. He presses his mouth to her forehead. A kiss, the humans call it.

A kiss.

I did not kiss Jo-see. I did not hold her in the tender, easy way that Rukh holds his mate. And I am ashamed. There are many things that I have done wrong this day.

I will right them, or die trying.

I
set
out a short time later, easily picking up Jo-see’s trail. There is a light, powdery snow on the air, but not enough to cover her tracks. She has made no attempt to hide her trail, and for a time, I entertain the thought that she wishes to be found. That she will see me tracking her and rush into my arms and shower my face with the little presses of her mouth that humans call kisses. But as her trail stretches on and the weather grows steadily worse, I realize this is a fantasy.

She has no intention of returning.

My chest aches with the realization that my mate has abandoned me. I have not pleased her. I did not caress her properly, and when she touched me, I spent my seed in my loincloth like an untried kit. I thought to hide my shame from her but it seems that she has been hurt by my actions. When I find her, I will explain myself and seek her forgiveness. I will ask her how she wishes to be pleasured. This time, I will do it right.

Even though I make good time, I am many hours behind her. The twin suns set behind the distant mountains and the air grows cold. I pull on a fur wrap to block the worst of the wind, but I think of Jo-see and her fragile human body. She will be shivering with cold, unable to last a night out in the open. I must find her and build her a fire. I must shelter her with my own body so she does not freeze.

No sooner do I think it than a tiny light appears on the horizon. It flickers and then flares brighter, yellow in the dark night. I catch the faint scent of smoke.

A fire.

Pride bursts in my chest. My Jo-see is not so helpless after all. I approach, quieting my footsteps. I see the outline of the tiny cave - one of the hunter caves scattered like wind-blown seeds across the landscape - and she is at the mouth of one, feeding bits of fuel to her fire. I devour the sight of her small form. She looks healthy, wrapped in her furs, and when she stands, she seems tired but not shivering with cold.

After a moment, she pulls the privacy screen over the cave entrance, blotting out some of the light given off by the fire.

I am left out in the snow, pondering. With a fire, she is safe. Even the most aggressive of metlaks will not approach a flame, and this particular region has very few large predators. I am impressed that she was able to find one of the hunter caves, build a fire, and take care of herself.

My fragile Jo-see is stronger than I have imagined. And instead of storming into her cave and demanding that she return, I hunch in the snow and settle in for the night. I will put up a watch to ensure she is undisturbed. But if my Jo-see wants to go somewhere? I will follow until it is no longer safe for her, and then I will step in.

So far? I’ve got the hang of this survival-on-my-own thing. Yesterday, I hiked until I found a cave, made myself a fire (thanks to the firestarter necklaces that one of the girls insisted we all have), and spent the evening cozy and warm.

And okay, it was a little terrifying to be out on my own.

A lot, actually.

Despite being tired from a day of walking, I’d had a heck of a time falling asleep. The knowledge that I was the only one around for miles and no one knew where I was? It did a bit of a head trip on me, and I clutched at my furs, terrified. Every noise made me jerk awake. Add in the fact that I’m feeling restless and out of sorts thanks to resonance? It wasn’t a fun night.

At some point, I went to sleep and when I woke up, my fire was dead, there was frost on my furs, and my breath was puffing in the air like a cloud once more. I was also aching from resonance, my nipples hard and my pussy wet. Gah. Time to get up. I stretched and shook out my furs, doing a little jog to try and make my body focus on the day instead of sex. The furs were a little damp from yesterday’s travel, so I rebuilt my fire and spread them out to dry before heading on. If I started walking around lunchtime, it wouldn’t be so bad.

I feed more dried dung to my fire and wash my hands with a bit of snow, then take out a pack of rations. I help myself to a handful of the granola-like stuff, wrinkling my nose as I eat. The cootie has dampened a lot of my senses - smells are not as keen, and neither are tastes - but this particular sa-khui dish is still spicier than I like. I wash it down with the last of my water and realize I have no more. Time to melt some snow.

It’s a little intimidating to realize that I can’t depend on anyone else to help me. If I need water, I have to get it myself. Fire? I need to pick up supplies as I walk. I put the last few bites of my trail rations back into the pouch. Who knows how long it’ll have to last me? I’ve never hunted before, and the enormity of the task looms before me.

Well, I’ll just have to figure it out somehow, because I’m not going back.

When my furs are dry enough and snow melted for my water skins, I put out my fire and dress in my heavy furs again, then put on my snowshoes. I leave the cave and start heading toward the west. Harlow and Rukh had come from the west, and that was where the ocean was, so that is where I’m heading. She’d said the temperatures were milder there. I tug one of my gloves higher and figure mild is just darn fine with me.

The snow is thicker this morning, which means more must have fallen overnight. I trudge through the powder with my backpack over my shoulder. After an hour, I’m already exhausted and sweaty, but I keep going. This is what I want, so I’m going to have to suck it up. I need to enjoy the scenery - this is my chance to really see more of Not-Hoth than just the caves.

And Not-Hoth? For all that it’s cold and blustery, it’s also really beautiful. Hill after endless hill of white snow undulates before me. The landscape is dotted with the occasional feathery pink tree, and more of the shorter, frothier bushes, thick with piney-leaves. In the distance, there’s a herd of dvisti, their shaggy greyish-white coats making them look a lot like overgrown sheep with spindly legs. I suppose I should think of them as food, but right now I’m enjoying the scenery. The sky is overcast as usual, but that just means there’s no glare on the snow. In the distance, the purplish, spiky peaks of ice dance along the skyline, and I wonder if I’m going to have to cross them to get to the ocean. Gosh, I hope not. I’m not a mountain climber.

I head into a valley, following the easiest path to walk, and then over the next hill. Something shakes the ground and I freeze, looking around. There, in the distance, is a sa-kohtsk and its baby. It lumbers over the snow with slow, almost lazy motions of its long, skinny legs, and I find myself drawn toward it despite the danger it presents. It’s hideous. The hide is shaggy like the dvisti, but the legs are a tough, sinewy hide that leads down to flat, wide hooves. The head itself is the size of a car, and dotted with glowing blue eyes like a spider. Gross. As I watch, it moves its big head back and forth, as if tasting the air.

I wonder what something so big eats. Hopefully not ‘people’.

I follow it for a time, fascinated. I’ve never gone to the zoo and this is a lot like a big, icy, open zoo. I wonder if I could get close enough to touch one? The baby sa-kohtsk is bigger than I am, but still seems more approachable. I’m tempted to chase after it—

—Until the mama sa-kohtsk lets loose an epic stream of piss. Squealing, I trundle away from their trail as fast as I can in my snowshoes. Gross gross gross!

After that, I decide following animals is probably not the smartest thing. I also realize I don’t have a spear. I do have a small knife that I keep with me at all times, but it’s not exactly built for hunting, and I don’t really want to have to kill something with a blade the size of a pocketknife. How the heck did I forget to bring a spear? I’m kicking myself for that, and in addition to scanning the ground for dung chips for the evening’s fire, I look for something that will make a decent spear.

There’s nothing, of course. In the icy, windy landscape, the trees are whippy and frail, and the bushes aren’t big enough to provide much wood. This is why all the weapons back at the cave are bone, I remind myself. Of course, you have to be able to bring down a kill - a really honking big one - to find a bone big enough to make a spear out of.

Maybe there will be spears at Harlow and Rukh’s old cave. I’ll just have to make my rations last that long, and then I’ll be set. Encouraged, I pick up the pace a little and head over the next rise.

It’ll all work itself out. And for the first time in what feels like forever? My cootie is silent in my chest. I may be exhausted from traveling, I may be needy and sick with thwarted sexual desire, but my chest is all quiet.

I’ll take the small victories.