for long, constantly awoken by the ache in my cock and restless need that insists I go to my female and drag her to my furs, regardless of what she wants. But I would never do such a thing. I fight resonance because I do not want to see H’nah hate me, like C’lie hates M’tok. I do not know if those two will ever come to terms. I scrub a hand down my face, trying to concentrate even though my mind is as tired as my body. “How do you know it is H’nah you heard with O’jek?”
N’dek snorts. “I recognize her voice. You think I do not pay attention? I watch her for you, because you are my clan brother. And I am telling you that she has gone to half the males in camp this morning.”
I clench my jaw. I want nothing more than to storm out of the hut and find H’nah, to drag her away from O’jek if he dares to look at her. I want to breathe in her scent again, to taste her soft skin. I want to taste all of her, and my cock throbs so painfully that I nearly groan aloud. I must stay, though, because H’nah does not want me.
And because N’dek needs me.
I feel a stab of irritation as N’dek lies in the blankets, the same dull expression on his face that he has worn ever since the hunting accident. There are things he can do, ways to contribute other than hunting, but N’dek does not care. Not every human hunts, after all. Some of the females do, but most choose to stay around camp and help in other ways, from cooking to sewing to making hides. One has taken up fishing and another is interested in the plants of this world. But N’dek will not do anything. He does not care about anything at all, not even the possibility that he might resonate someday and have a family of his own. He does not care that we are no longer doomed to slow starvation on the island.
He cares about nothing and it eats at me.
I bite back those angry thoughts, because they will help nothing. It is my fault he is how he is, so I get to my knees and slap one shoulder. “Come on. We will go to the fire and sit with the others.”
“I would rather stay here,” he says, not moving.
“It is cold this day,” I say, and slap my shoulder again, indicating he should get on. I will not let him hide away in the hut.
With a heavy sigh, N’dek reaches out and grabs one of my arms, hauling himself upright. He balances on his one foot, then his big torso smacks into my back, one arm looping around my throat. I pull my long braid free so it does not yank on my scalp as I carry him, and then I get to my feet. He is heavy, but it is a load I will willingly bear if it will help him.
The moment we go outside, the wind hits me in the face and I shudder. It is much colder here, and dry. I think of the warm, sultry air from the island, and how when you climbed to the top of the trees, the air was fierce and cold. We never understood why, and now we do. It is because the rest of this world is cold and we were the only warm spot.
Now there is no more warm at all.
I bite back the sadness and take a few steps forward, one hand on N’dek’s belt so he does not slide off. His big arm chokes my throat, but I flex my thick neck muscles and ignore it. My boots crunch heavily in the sand and then the wind shifts and I hear it.
The light sound of H’nah’s voice.
I pause.
N’dek lifts one hand, pointing over my shoulder. “The fire is that way, J’shel.” He sounds annoyed that I have stopped. Ironic, considering he did not even wish to go to the fire a moment ago.
H’nah speaks again, her voice low and throaty, and my khui sings loudly in response.
Instead of heading toward the fire, I turn and head toward the beach, where she stands far too close to O’jek. The Shadow Cat male scratches at his chest and glances at the waves, a discarded net behind him as if H’nah has approached mid-fishing. I am relieved that he does not look