Bek makes a frustrated sound and then points at the stool. “You are with kit. Be seated, or I will feel even more guilt.”
“I’m perfectly capable of standing for longer than five minutes,” I tell him, but I sit anyhow, and then add, “Thank you.”
He returns to his seat, brushing aside bone flecks before crossing his legs again and picking up his carving knife. “I am trying to share, and you are not making this easy.” When I say nothing to that surly statement, he adds, “I am not good at sharing.”
No shit, Sherlock. But he’s trying, so the least I can do is listen and not be mean about it. I don’t want to be mean, anyhow. I just want to understand. “I’m here now. Go ahead.”
I expect him to start carving again, but he pauses, looks thoughtful, and then glances up at me. “I feel guilt for how our pleasure-mating went.”
Oh. That’s not what I expected to hear. “It’s in the past.”
“It is in the past, true, but if I leave a thorn in my foot, it will still irritate and infect until it is removed.”
Fair enough. “I don’t think you should feel guilty. I just think we’re two people that have very different personalities and don’t know how to get along together. I don’t dislike you. I actually like you a lot and wish we were friends.” Saying all this feels so incredibly difficult. My shoulders are tense with worry, and I can feel the stress taking over my body, which is weird. It’s like I just lock up around Bek because I expect him to disapprove of everything I say. I guess it’s going to take a while for me to get over that, but I’d like to try. “I don’t hate you.”
“I do not hate you, either.” He meets my gaze, and the look on his face is very serious. “I feel I treated you badly. I was not kind and loving like Ereven is to you. I was just…frustrated.”
“We both were,” I say softly. “It wasn’t a good relationship.”
“I wanted a mate very badly,” Bek tells me in a low voice. “I have been alone for a very long time. I want a mate and kits. I thought being with you would give me that chance. But we did not have the bond that the others do. Resonance smooths the way when things are difficult, and we had no such thing to help us. I felt it was not right between us, too. It was not right, and the more I tried to hold you in place, the further away it felt you were moving. So I pushed harder and harder. I was not kind. And I lost you.” He sighs heavily and gives me a tired look. “I think about why you left. I do not blame you for leaving me and ending our pleasure-mating. I was short and impatient, and you needed understanding, and you did not get that from me. But I do wonder if I had been a better mate to you, would you have still resonated to Ereven? If you had been happy with me, would your khui have pulled you elsewhere?” He shrugs. “I wonder about this.”
I understand his frustration, but I’m glad that we broke up, because I have Ereven. Everything that was wrong with my relationship with Bek is right with Ereven. It’s hard to explain or describe, but it just is. I can’t say that to Bek, though, not when he is clearly still carrying feelings about how things ended between us. So I simply say, “I would like for us to be friends again.”
“I miss you,” Bek tells me.
I lick my dry lips and shake my head. “No, we are not doing this. I am happily mated.”
His expression grows thunderous. “I know this. I do not seek to come between you. You resonated to another. You will never bear my kits. You belong to Ereven, and he belongs to you.” He looks insulted that I would insinuate otherwise. “But it does not mean that I do not miss you.”
“Do you really miss me?” I ask him. “Or do you miss what you thought we had? Are you lonely for me, or are you lonely for a mate, any mate?” I’m a little surprised I’m able to speak so forcefully to him. “Because I remember what we had, and it wasn’t good. We were always unhappy with each other. I don’t want to go back to that.”
“I…” He frowns. “I suppose I am remembering the good times.” He stares off into the distance and then gives me a rueful look. “We argued a lot.”
“It wasn’t arguing. You’d get mad, and I’d shut down. Arguing implies I showed spirit,” I tell him. “Pretty sure I wimped out of every argument.”
“You did,” he says thoughtfully. “It was very annoying.”
“I’ll bet. Look, Bek…you’re lonely. I understand.” I smile at him to make my words easier. “But it doesn’t mean that we were meant to be mates. We can be friends, but that is all I want.”
He sighs heavily. “It is all I want, too. I just…I do not know why I did this. I am not trying to make you uncomfortable, Claire.” His expression is honest as he crouches low next to me. “You have been working hard for the tribe, and you want to bring nothing but joy to the others. I wanted to bring joy to you.”
He’s painting a pretty saintly picture of me, and I don’t think that’s true. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood, that’s all.”
“And look at the way you have befriended Asha,” he says. “You have a good heart. I thought you deserved a reward for being such a good human. So I made you gifts.”
I feel weird at hearing that. Like befriending Asha was some onerous task I took on. “Can you stop making me gifts? Save all that generosity for Borran and the gifts you’re supposed to give him.”
The look on his face grows stubborn. “I can give you gifts if I wish. It is my way of saying I am sorry for any worry I caused you in the past.” His gaze drops to my belly. “And the next gift is for your little one.”
That big noodle. “You’re going to make someone a fantastic mate someday.”
“Just not you.” He gives me a devilish look.
“Just not me,” I agree with a laugh. It’s weird, but I feel like I regained a friend just now, and it’s nice.
14
ASHA
I do not sleep much that night. I worry that the metlaks will return and brave the fire and our scents and come after the kit. I worry that Hemalo will take a turn for the worse, despite it being a slight head wound. I worry the kit will wake hungry and need me. So I do not sleep. I tend the fire and watch Hemalo as he slumbers. I make more mashed roots for the little one and feed Shasak when it awakens. It does not cry like a sa-khui kit when hungry, which is odd, but when he looks up at me with big eyes and waves his fist?
To me, he is a kit. A small, hungry, needy kit.
Shasak wakes up just before dawn, and I have to clean his bedding and wipe him down. His fur gets filthy easily, and I see why metlaks smell so foul all the time. This one will not be as bad as his brethren, I decide, and when he is clean, I hug him close to my teats and rock him until he falls asleep again. The cave is quiet except for the crackling of fire, and it gives me much time to think. I think of the astounded look on Hemalo’s face when I revealed Shasak to him. He did not know what to make of the tiny metlak. I chuckle quietly to myself, thinking of his reaction. It was not the instant love I felt. More…befuddlement. I imagine he thinks it is like Farli’s pet, except worse. But this is different. The dvisti is an animal.
Shasak is…not sa-khui, not human, but a people all the same.
My khui begins to sing as Hemalo rolls over in the furs. His eyes are still tightly closed, but I can hear the gentle resonance coming from his chest. It ignites an ache in my body, and I have to fight the urge to crawl under the blankets with him and seek out his cock with my hand. Wake him up with a stroke of my fingers along the length of it, watch his eyes open sleepily to gaze at me with such hunger and lust that it steals the breath from my lungs. It is the resonance that makes me crave him, I tell myself. My heart is still wounded at the fact that he has abandoned me. He has not apologized for leaving me behind. He has not even seemed apologetic.