Page 36 of Healing His Mate
“Tell me, Lahkzo,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you enjoy mating with me? Is that all we do together?”
His mouth forms a flat line.
“Please,” I beg. “I am trying to understand what my life has been like since arriving on Oluura. Your answers will help me.”
He looks annoyed but mildly sympathetic. “Our mating is adequate, I would say. It is good enough, which is why we continue mating. I suspect it is more of a release than anything else––for both of us. And yes, that is all we do together,” he says with a sigh, “I leave as soon as we both come.”
The shame I felt in my memory makes sense to me now. The arrangement Lahkzo and I had fits the definition of a pleasure mating, but at the lowest possible level––a continued sexual pairing––nothing more. It does not appear as if we were even friends or that Lahkzo likes me at all.
I hear the door to the wash box close from upstairs, which means Waldric will be down soon. I must get this strange male out of here.
“Well, I thank you for your interest in being my pleasure mate,” I begin, gesturing toward the front door. I do not wish to hurt his feelings by sending him away, but the neutral expression he holds would make it seem as if hurting him is not possible. “But I have taken a strong liking to another male and would like to see if the tether soon forms.”
“You think this other male is your eternal mate?” he asks, incredulous at the suggestion.
Gritting my teeth, I offer a tight smile.I will not be cruel,I vow to myself.I will not be cruel.“I do not know for certain, but it feels like he could be.”
Lahkzo laughs. “You are not built for an eternal mate, Nalba. Trust me on this.”
The time for kindness is over. I do not like his words or the snide tone of his voice when he says them. “Your face is completely foreign to me. You did not know I was injured in battle. Why would I trust anything you say?”
He stares at me, blinking several times. “Because nothing will ever be more important to you than your work. It is all you care about. Anything else just gets in your way. You said this to me, Nalba. Many times.”
I do not want to believe him. His words strike me in the chest, making me want to curl into a tight ball on the floor. But there is something there. A sense of truth.
“You sought me out because I was never in the way, and I never could be because you did not care about me.” He must see the pain in my eyes because he takes pity on me and gently pats my arm. It is slightly uncomfortable, but not unwelcome. “You wish to understand the life you lived here? You did not care about anyone or anything that was not made in this shop. That is how you wanted your life to remain. Forever.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears, and I scrub a hand down my face in an attempt to hide them from Lahkzo. Being vulnerable with him feels entirely wrong. It should be Waldric, and I know just how Waldric would respond. He would wrap me in his thick muscular arms, and he would promise me that all will be well.
Sadly, Lahkzo’s description of Old Nalba feels right. No one here truly seems to know me, if I am happy, or how I spend my time. Not even those closest to me. Except for Lahkzo. Perhaps that was an intentional choice Old Nalba made––only let the male who fucks you without feelings see the real you.
“I shall go,” he finally says. “When your memories return, and you are you again, come see me.” I listen to him give me directions to where he lives, trying to keep my knees from buckling.
I do not say good-bye before shutting the door. Though, I doubt Lahkzo even noticed.
Could he be right about me? About my ambitions? When my memories return, or if they return, will I see Waldric as an obstacle in my way? Will I be so consumed with my projects that I will no longer have time for food battles with him? Will that seem like a ridiculous, childish activity?
I lean my back against the door, letting these questions settle like heavy anchors in my mind. Old Nalba has been a bit of a mystery to me thus far. Now that I am getting to know her, I do not know how to feel. Was she happiest in her shop? Is that why she did not want any distractions? Because there was no greater satisfaction than getting to create in a space that was not strictly managed like Yignnuf’s facility?
Apart from the food battle, I have enjoyed keeping the shop tidy, and not because of Yignnuf’s obsession with cleanliness that is ingrained in my skull. Absently, I reach a hand over my shoulder and feel the scars on my back through my tunic. The wounds have long since healed, but the memories are fresh. A messy station earned you one lashing. Not laughing at his jokes earned you two. Not agreeing with Yignnuf earned you three. Wasting supplies––four. I never earned more than three at a time. I do not know what the more severe infractions led to.
Maybe Old Nalba grew tired of tidying her shop after a long day of work. That could be a testament to how focused she was on her projects. How committed she was to making the clan’s lives easier. It is noble, really.
Perhaps I should stop ignoring the signs that tell me who Old Nalba was. I should stop judging her so harshly because she seems unrecognizable, and just allow myself to become her.
CHAPTER 19
WALDRIC
Nalba is quiet when I rejoin her downstairs after cleaning myself from the food battle. Too quiet. It is not the typical lack of noise from her being absorbed in a project. It is not even the kind of quiet that means she is deep inside her mind trying to figure out how to tweak a product or fix something to make it work. Those are light, pleasant silences.
This one feels heavy. There is a crease in her brow that will not go away as she scrubs the side of her shelving unit. She does not even notice my presence until I stand beside her.
“Oh, greetings,” she mutters distantly before returning her gaze to the remnants of red bvatee on the wooden slat.
“What is this?” I say, brushing my finger along her brow in an attempt to smooth the crease.
“It is nothing,” she replies. She is quick to push away my concern, and that makes my worry intensify.