Mari's Mistake - Ruby Dixon Page 0,94

his grip on my shoulders fierce, his face buried in my hair.

I hold onto him tightly, the only sound in the hut that of our mingled heavy breathing and the ever-present song of resonance. Eventually, T'chai lifts his head and gazes at me. He gives me a lazy, slow smile and presses a kiss to my jaw. "We still sing."

"So we do. I guess we'll just have to do that again soon." I wiggle a little, feeling the stickiness of our joined bodies. "There's no rush. We have all the time in the world now."

He smiles at me, lacing his fingers with mine, and even though my khui is still singing an urgent song…I'm content. So very content.

Epilogue

A few days later

T’CHAI

I think I am not cut out for riding a dragon. No matter how comfortable A'tar and V'ronca try to make the journey on us, I am glad when my feet touch ground at the Icehome beach and I realize I do not have to make the trip again. Ever. I help Mari from the basket, and my poor mate is shivering despite the layers of furs bundling her. The smile she gives me is brilliant, though, and I can hear the muffled song of her khui singing to mine as we touch hands.

Our song has changed, the urgent edge disappearing and replaced with something sweeter, something satisfied. I look at my mate and I am filled with wonder that she is carrying our kit. Tall Horn will survive, despite the Great Smoking Mountain's efforts to destroy us all, and my young will grow up in safety. They will never experience what R'jaal, S'bren, M'tok and I had to go through at young ages. Things will be different for our daughter…or our son.

I do not care which one it is as long as our kit has Mari's determination…and her smile.

My mate looks up at me with a sly smile. "Why are you watching me like that?"

"Can a male not watch his mate as she moves?"

She mock-squints at me. "I suppose you can, but I think you have an ulterior motive."

"Ulterior motive?" I echo, not entirely sure what these words mean.

"Yeah. Like you're looking at me all sweet, when I know you're really thinking about dragging me back to our furs." She moves forward and adjusts the ties on my cloak playfully, her expression somehow teasing and seductive all at once.

"I think if we do that, we might scare D'see," I point out, brushing my fingers over her cheek. Now that I can touch her again without Mari pulling away, I take every opportunity to do so. I love touching her. I could spend the rest of my days running my fingers over her soft skin. Just lie in the furs and let the world around us disappear.

Mari's eyes widen and she giggles. "I forgot that she was staying in our hut. I hope she hasn't trashed the place. We don't know anything about her. She might be a real slob. She—"

"Here come the others," V'ronca calls out. She stands near the dragon's head, her hand on his muzzle as we wait for the tribe to arrive. We wait for the hunters to come and help us unpack all the goods that we have brought from the other village. The basket where T'ia rode over on the journey here is now filled with foodstuffs and furs of all kinds. We have been showered with gifts, and I am humbled by the kindness of these strangers. The sa-khui are generous beyond what I thought possible, and I cannot help but compare this thinking to the island I grew up on. Tall Horn did not share with other clans, nor they with us. We were all rivals, taught from birth that the others were somehow less.

And now we are forced to live together, which makes for interesting times. Perhaps I should learn from them and learn to be more open and friendly to Shadow Cat and Strong Arm.

"Should we help unload?" Mari says, glancing over at me.

"I will," I tell her, and pull her over to V'ronca's side. "You stay with A'tar's mate. You are pregnant, too, and must be careful."

Mari just rolls her eyes at me, but she's smiling. "Is this how it's going to be for the next nine months?"

I squint at her. "Why? What happens in nine months?"

"A…baby?"

"So soon?" I remember vaguely the pregnant females on the island. It seemed to take much longer for their young to be born,