Barbarian’s Bride by Ruby Dixon

2

Eight Years Ago

DAGESH

Istand near the entrance to the human's strange cave and try not to be obvious as my khui hums in my chest. The song is distracting, especially since it seems to be affecting my cock. It strains against my leathers, oblivious to the tears of the females who wake up from their strange sleep to find themselves in a new world. If Vektal's new mate Shorshie is to be believed, the land they come from is nothing like this one, and it must be shocking.

Even more shocking, they will resonate the moment they receive khuis. At least one of them will. I resist the urge to rub my chest, because Vektal is peering at all of us suspiciously. I think he suspects we will carry off the females and make him look bad in front of his new mate.

I cannot carry off my female. I do not even know which one it is. They all cluster together, their scents intermingling, and it is impossible to tell which one my khui has decided is my mate. I must wait and see. I scan the strange surroundings of the strange cave that the female Shorshie says was part of a cave that fell from the sky. It looks like no cave I know of, the walls a flat, dark gray I have never seen in nature. The interior of the cave smells odd, too, as odd as the flat walls and square shape. Shorshie told Vektal that other peoples—strange-looking peoples—made this cave with their hands, but I do not believe this is true.

A cave is found. It is not made like a spear or a basket.

Despite all this strangeness, I resonated the moment the scent of the females brushed my nose. I clutch my spear and try not to stare in their direction even as I guard the entrance to the cave. The cave is set below the snow, buried deep, and the entrance is on the top instead of on the side. I am guarding to ensure that no metlaks drop inside and scare the females who are huddled on the other side of the square cave near a fire.

I do not dare look in their direction. I keep my tail still, because it will give away my agitation. Pashov jogs up to me, his face eager with excitement. "Did you see how many females there are? Twelve of them! So many—" He pauses as he approaches me, his eyes widening. "Are you—"

"Say nothing," I hiss, deliberately not looking over at the females. "I do not want to be sent away. Pretend I am silent."

My friend exhales a deep breath. "You are lucky. My chest is silent." Pashov glances around. "I think most chests are silent. Someone else resonates, but I have not yet determined who."

To think there are so many females here—a wealth beyond imagining—and only two of us have resonated. It seems a cruel trick of nature, but I remind myself that the females do not yet have their khuis. Things might be different then. "We must wait and see," I say to Pashov. "Until they have their khuis, I must stay back."

Back…and away from my chief, who prowls like an overprotective snowcat. If he suspects I am resonating, he will send me away until after the sa-kohtsk hunt, so I do not frighten the females. I do not want that. I want to watch them all, to see if I can tell which one it is that has made my khui sing at last.

I will no longer be alone. The thought is overwhelming in the joy of it. After all this time of having no family, I will create one. I will have a mate. And a kit. My knees grow weak at the thought and I lean heavily on my spear. In this moment, I do not care if Vektal is furious. I need to know which female is mine.

So I turn to Pashov. "I am going to find out which female is mine," I say to him, my voice low so no others can hear. "Take my spear. Watch the entrance."

His eyes widen and for a moment, he looks as excited as I am. "How will you know which one it is?" he hisses, switching places with me. "She has no khui yet. There is nothing for yours to respond to."

"But if my khui is already singing to her, then it should sing louder when I approach, yes?" I reach out and take the heavy fur cloak from his shoulders, wrapping it around my chest to muffle the song that vibrates through me. "I must know, my friend. I must."

"I understand. Good luck." He gives me a rueful nod. "If anyone asks, I have heard nothing."

I grin. "There is nothing to hear. Nothing at all." I glance around, wondering how I can approach without making Vektal and his second, Raahosh, suspicious. I need some sort of plan to get near them. I study each human's face, noting how round and soft they are, how smooth their brows. They look so delicate, as a group, and I worry that I will break my mate if I touch her. I look down at my hands. Never before have they seemed too big, but they seem too large now. Whoever I resonate to, I will have to be extremely careful that I do not hurt her.

I must be the gentlest of mates to my female.

With this thought in my mind, I glance over at the fire. Tea is warming in a pouch, and I go to fill my skin. If I am offering the females a drink, they will not be able to chase me away, will they? I am simply being helpful. So very, very helpful. Using the bone cup nearby, I fill my skin and then straighten, glancing over at the cluster of females. They huddle together, holding on to one another. A few are wounded and one is weeping as if her heart is broken. I will be happy with any female but…a selfish part of me hopes it is not her. I do not know what to do around tears. I have no mother or sisters and no experience with females. Surely my khui knows this, though.

I clear my throat, tightening the layers of fur over my chest to muffle my khui's song, and rumble low in my throat. I even rumble low in my chest in an old song that we hum at celebrations, just to try and cover the sound. I feel obvious. Very obvious. Zolaya frowns at me as I walk past. He thinks I am acting strange…because I am. I am not one to sing much, even when the elders lift their voices in song.

My face burns with embarrassment as I approach the females, holding out the water skin. The tearful one flinches as she sees me, but then she offers me a watery smile and takes the skin. Her fingers brush mine and I feel…nothing. It does not mean she is not my mate, but I think I would feel something? I hope? I nod at her, taking the skin back and moving on to the next one. And the next. I study the faces. One female has specks of dirt on her skin, and another has brown skin. Others are in varying shades, their manes going from deep black and curly to pale and straight. It is fascinating. Some of the females are taller and sturdy, with big teats and hips, and others look small and fragile.

I hope for a husky female, one that is big and strong…but if she is small and weak, I will give her my heart anyhow. I am thrilled to have a mate. Any mate. I know my khui will choose well.

I am so excited about the prospect of my mate that I almost stumble over the next female. She is outstretched on the floor, her hand behind her, and she glares up at me as I hold out the water skin.

Our fingers brush as she reaches for it…and my khui thrums louder in my chest, the song so fierce it makes my cock shiver. I stare at her, wide-eyed.

She is perfect. So perfect.

I want to grab her hand and haul her to her feet. I want to run my hands all over her and reassure myself she is well, that she has not been hurt. I want to learn her body with my touch.

I want to fulfill resonance. Right now.

Biting back a groan, I cast one last look at her and then force myself to pull away. She has yellow streaks in her mane. She has large teats and a small build. She has strange brown eyes and a round face and looked at me without fear. There was curiosity there—beneath all the glaring—and I cannot wait to speak to her. I cannot wait to hear her name.

But…I cannot do so right now. I will not be able to control myself. I stagger back to the entrance of the small, strange cave and to Pashov.

He watches me with wide eyes. "Did you find her?"

I nod, not trusting my voice. "I…cannot stay in here. I need to go out." I grab the tall lip of the cave's entrance and haul myself up, out into the refreshing snow. Out here, there is no overwhelming scent of humans, no alluring resonance mate, no nothing. Just snow and wind and the occasional tree. I take several deep breaths, trying to calm myself, and it is useless. My cock feels heavy like stone, and the ache in my body tells me to go back down into the strange cave of the humans, to snatch my female away from the others, and take her to a private corner where I can shove her thighs apart and sink deep.

I groan at the image. I need to handle this, handle myself…

Frantic, I look around for something, anything that will ease my need. There is a snowdrift not too far away, butting up against the cliffs. Good. Perfect. I race toward it, and when I approach, I dig out a narrow hole at hip height, using my fingers. Shame burns through me as I free my cock from my loincloth and then thrust it into the snow.

It feels nothing like I imagine my mate would…but I use it anyhow. I thrust and thrust against that narrow hole, wishing it was warm and had give, like I imagine my sweet human's cunt will be. I have never touched a female, never mated, so I can only imagine. It does not take long for me to come, and with a low growl in my throat, I clench my fist against the nearest rock and spurt hot seed into the snowbank.

I do not know how I am going to last. I can only hope that a sa-kohtsk is near. Very, very near.