Aehako is suddenly at my side again. He puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "Save your rage, brother," he says in a soft voice. "No one is hurting her. Our chief will take good care with all the females, because his is included."
"But No-rah—"
"Does not know she has resonated," Aehako says in that reasonable voice. "Give her time to wake up. Let her come to you. Otherwise you will scare her."
I groan, running a hand down my face in frustration. He is right. His words are sensible, but…they are not what I want. I want to cradle her in my arms. I want to be the first thing she sees when she awakens. I want my mate. After so many turns of the seasons alone, with no one to return home to, I want my family.
I do not want to lurk in the shadows, waiting for her to notice me. I want to stand tall and proud next to her. I want to see her smile when she hears her khui's song. Aehako gives my shoulder another friendly pat, but I push him away. I move over to Vektal, where he sits in the bloodied snow, his hands on his knees. At his side is his mate, Shorshie, her eyes closed and her face pale.
I sit next to him, leaning back on my haunches.
"Was it you?" he asks, not looking up from his mate's still form.
I know what he asks. Was it me that resonated and did not speak up? "Yes," I say. "No-rah is mine."
"Let her approach you first," he says. "The females are skittish. My Georgie is very protective of them. I will not have her upset."
I clench my jaw, but nod. I will sit here and wait. And hopefully when No-rah opens her eyes, she will see me…and she will smile. I have been patient for this many turns of the season. Surely I can be patient a little longer. My hands form anxious fists and I stare at the sleeping females. Worry pounds in my chest. What if they do not awaken? What if they are too old to take a khui? Too sick? What if…I bite back the worried questions that rise to my tongue. Vektal does not have the answers, either. I feel I must say something, though. "I am…overwhelmed," I admit. "I did not expect resonance to feel like this."
He grunts.
"Have you been walking around like this for days now?" I ask, in awe. I cannot imagine. My head feels like a bigger mess than one of Hemalo's tanning pits. My body aches for my mate. My cock…well, I will not think about my cock, other than that it aches, too.
Vektal nods. "You must go slow with your mate," he warns me. "Be very gentle. They are fragile, humans…but the feel of your resonance mate underneath you is worth it."
Careful. His words echo my thoughts. I must be careful with No-rah. "I will remember, my chief. You have my thanks."
5
NORA
I wake up to gray, wintry skies with two pathetic, pale suns overhead and the cootie-thing moving in my chest. I shudder, because no one told me that I'd be able to feel it moving. I swear it feels like it's squirming or drumming or something in my chest, and I'm not sure I like the sensation.
"You all right, Nora?" Georgie asks, holding out a cake of the ultra-spicy alien food.
I nod. "I'll manage." I take the cake from her and nibble on it cautiously, and I'm surprised when it doesn't taste nearly as awful as before. That's…confusing. I look around, curious. Is my vision better? Does everything smell…louder than before? Can smells even be loud? I rub my weird chest, contemplating that. The cootie is supposed to equip us for better life out here on this icicle-crusted planet, but I didn't expect to feel different.
I do, though. It's hard to say just HOW I feel different, other than the jiggling worm in my chest. Things feel sharper, or I feel more alert. Just…different. I look around and everyone's got creepy glowing blue eyes. Funny how it looked kind of normal in the big blue aliens, but on us it looks unearthly. I try not to stare too much at the others, because I imagine I look just as strange.
A girl sits next to me, the one that cries a lot. She's got soft-looking dark hair and a pretty face, but she also looks utterly miserable. She clutches furs to her chest as we talk about nothing in particular. I'm having a hard time concentrating, because it keeps feeling like my cootie is moving. "Do you feel yours?" I ask the girl—Ariana.
She shakes her head, her eyes brilliant blue.
"Huh. Maybe I got a super-active one." I tap my chest, as if I can tell my cootie to calm the fuck down, but it just keeps on doing its thing. The wind tears at our clothing and our hair as we finish our food, but I have to admit I don't feel nearly as cold as before. It's still not quite what I'd call “comfy” but I no longer feel as if my lungs are going to freeze with every breath I take.