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Liv takes the other raskarran’s hand again, allows him to lead her over the jumble of roots and to the more even ground.
“Maha shun, Anghar,” she says, gripping his arm briefly before letting go. He presses a fist to his heart, then slips away through the trees.
“Won’t let you do a damn thing for yourself the moment they know you’re pregnant,” Liv says, though her tone is warm, amused.
“It’s kind of cute,” I say.
“Very cute. Very annoying at times. But very cute. They’re good people, Angie. I hope you’re starting to see that. I hope Rardek is helping you to see that.”
Of course, my mind instantly goes back to every naughty, teasing thing Rardek has ever said.
“I don’t think you realise what a handful he is.”
Liv snorts. “No, I have a pretty good idea.” Then she looks at me, her smile as warm as I’ve ever seen it. “You’ve done good work here, figuring out this blight. Thank you.”
Words I’ve wanted to hear my entire professional life. I’m embarrassed to feel tears pricking in the corners of my eyes.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rardek
We walk back to the fire. It is a short distance, and my brother spends it with his arm around his linasha, his tail around her waist. My own linasha stomps beside me in her heavy Mercenia boots, not the raskarran shoes Rachel found for her. The strange outer layer she wears rustles as she walks, hiding every enticing piece of her. I would put my arm and tail around her still, but she is splattered with rot.
“Wudyoohelpmewithis?” she says to Brooks, plucking at the noisy fabric. “Carefulthoh. Doangettanyonyoo.”
Brooks helps my Angie remove her outer layer with the kind of efficiency that says she has provided this aid to others before. Protective gear. That is what my Angie called it in the dreamspace. Clothing to keep you safe. I wonder why it also has to be so ugly and loud.
My Angie brushes herself down, running her hands over the human clothes she is wearing. Not as enticing as seeing her in raskarran clothing, but it makes little difference. I can still feel the warmth of her body next to mine, can picture the rapid rise and fall of her chest. I want to have her where I had her in the dreamspace again, and this time there will be no stopping to discuss anything except how she wants me to pleasure her. We may not have many words between us, but I am confident we can communicate about that.
“How long do you think it will take to prepare your pack, gather us food supplies, and find a tent?” I say to Maldek.
“Quicker if I had help,” Maldek says, but his eyes spark with amusement when I glance at him. “I should think I could make it take some time, but our chieftess did say to leave as soon as we can.”
“‘As soon as we can’ is not the same thing as ‘immediately’.”
“I do not think Liv would see mating with your linasha as a necessary reason for delay.”
“Fortunately for me, our chieftess is not here to give her opinion. What do you think?”
“I think it might be very difficult to find a tent,” he says, almost laughing now. “Most of them are being used right now, after all.”
I grin, grip his arm briefly, then head for my Angie. The hunger in my chest for her has grown to a roaring thing, a need that must be answered. Liv might not approve of my delaying, but she would not approve of my lack of focus if I left without indulging my desires first. Out of two scenarios where I look bad, I will take the one where I get to spend time between my linasha’s thighs.
“Oh!”
My Angie makes a startled sound as I sweep her up into my arms, but it is not one of protest, just surprise. Brooks laughs, gives my Angie a wave, then turns to find her mate.
“Warewegoin?” my Angie says, eyes narrowing.
The temptation to carry her up to her room, to lay her on her bed and settle my body over hers, kiss her until she is breathless, is overwhelming. But instead, I head down to the underground level of the Mercenia hut, entering theshowerroom.
“Oookay,”my Angie says, staring at me warily now. “Whadarrwedoininere?”
I set her down, then take her hand, running my fingers over her skin, looking for any hint of irritation. The ichor was thickest on her where she plunged her arms into the rot, the rest of her only slightly splattered. If there is anywhere that it soaked through, touched her delicate skin, it will be on her hands and arms.
“Looks clean,” I say, miming scratching, then giving her a questioning look.
“Notichy, no,” she says, shaking her head.
