Page 4 of Healing His Mate
Amnesia. How could such an overwhelming experience be simplified into a one-word diagnosis? It does not make sense to me.
“How do I retrieve my memories?” I ask, trying to ignore the bile rising in my throat and the panic that is causing my hands to quiver. “And how long will it take?” If I have been here for five years, I must have projects I am working on. Inventions I must complete. I need to resume my work immediately.
The moment Kaiva returns, Aye-vah tells her about my lost memories, then she starts looking over my brain scans once again. “There is some swelling here,” she says, showing me the image of my brain tissue and pointing to the puffier section on the left. “But it has already gone down a bit since the first scan. That is a good sign.”
“And what of my memories?” I ask again.
Kaiva’s head drops slightly. “I do not know when they will return. I am hopeful it will be soon, Nalba.”
Aye-vah clears her throat and gently bumps her elbow into Kaiva’s. “There is a chance…a very small chance . . .” Kaiva reluctantly adds, “they will not return at all. But there is no need to think about that now. You are recovering.”
Breath has left my body. My limbs feel heavier, as if steel weights are attached to the ends, pulling me deeper into the thin cushion of the bed.
What am I without a properly functioning mind?Whoam I? My entire life, I have been praised and sought after for my innovative creations. It is why I was chosen as lead apprentice by Yignnuf, the most talented inventor on Trovilia, and worked by his side until his death. It is why Varrek asked me to leave Trovilia and join his new clan on Oluura. If I cannot contribute to the clan in that way, what will become of me?
“Nalba? Are you unwell?” Varrek asks, gently shaking my shoulder.
“Of course, I am unwell!” I shout back. “There must be something you can do. A medicine you can give me. A procedure . . . something,” I beg Kaiva in a shaky whisper. “Please.” My lip trembles and I bunch the blanket in my fist in an effort to hold back tears. I do not cry. I have not cried since Ekoya’s death, and I will not cry this day. Yignnuf would be disgusted by this emotional display I am putting on.
“Nalba. Nalba, shhh,” Kaiva says in a soft, comforting voice. “You will heal, my dear. But you must be patient. Give your brain time, and your memories will return to you.”
“There are things we can do to help, you know,” Aye-vah says, her eyes bright and eager. “Ways to trigger those memories.”
My fingers find a loose thread on the blanket, and I focus my nervous energy on tugging at it. I am desperate to get my mind back to where it was. “How?” I ask, my voice cracking at the end. “I will do anything.”
“For starters, Varrek,” she says as she turns to look at him, “why don’t you fill Nalba in on what’s happened since her last memory on the ship up to the day the girls and I arrived.”
His eyes drop to his feet, lips pursed. “What if I do not remember all that has happened during that time? Nalba and I were not together often. I worry I am not the right person to provide her this information.”
Aye-vah smiles and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not expecting you to remember every detail. Just fill in the blanks a bit. Right now, that time frame for her is an empty void. Give her a general overview.”
“What do you meanwe were not together often?” I ask Varrek. I have clear memories of us as pleasure mates back on Trovilia, and then that time a few eves before we boarded the ship to Oluura that he shared my bed. Has that ended? “Have we discontinued our mating?”
“Well, yes, Nalba,” Varrek replies as if the answer should be obvious. When he notices my furrowed brow, he adds, “We have not been pleasure mates since before we left Trovilia. And I am mated to Cloh-ee, a human female. We have a child together.”
My mouth falls open. “You are mated? To a . . . human?” I ask, failing to hide my shock. “You are a father?”
He smiles widely, showing almost all of his gleaming white fangs. Fangs that sunk into my shoulder during our last mating mere days ago, but in reality, several years ago. How strange to hold the flutter of arousal for this male when he has long forgotten those very feelings he held for me.
Though, I suppose it is good that he found his inara. I was never meant to be that for him. His cock is delightful. The way it is shaped fit inside me perfectly, and when he would vibrate, his cock would rub against myk'billitain all the right ways. The rest of him, however, I can hardly stand most days. Varrek feels too intensely for me. He is a dramatic male. Every experience is either sheer magnificence or extreme disappointment. Nothing occurs between the two. I found it quite irritating.
“It is good,” I tell him, “that you have someone who will tolerate you for the rest of time. She must be a patient and understanding creature. I am pleased by this news.” I mean every word I speak. I shall miss the use of his cock, but as the leader of the clan, he needs a strong female by his side to guide him, comfort him, and prioritize the clan’s needs. He cannot do that alone.
He laughs and nods in appreciation. “That is one of the nicest things you have ever said to me, Nalba. I thank you.”
“You’re actually pretty tight with Chloe,” Aye-vah says. “She works for you.”
That surprises me. I have never had many friends, and certainly not of another species. “Truly?”
“Yes,” Varrek answers. “You convinced me to rescue her after it was discovered that she was taken by my father the night of our last Maevstra celebration.”
“Your father kidnapped her?” I ask, my voice rising in volume with each word. Varrek’s father locating us was his biggest fear. He always said if his father found us on Oluura, he would kill us all. “He knows you are alive? How did he find us? Do we need to leave?”
Varrek sighs heavily and runs a rough hand through his silver mane. “He did find us, then he took my inara and locked her in a dungeon beneath the castle. Ahlvo and I traveled to Trovilia to confront him,” he puts a hand on top of mine, “and now he is dead. We no longer live in fear of my father’s wrath.”
“You killed him!” I squeal. He should have done so when his father first went mad and showed signs of ruthless, fascistic views. We would not have had to leave Trovilia at all. But as long as the king is dead, life for Trovilian citizens is no doubt better than it was under his rule.
“Actually, Ahlvo did,” he replies with a sly grin, “but not before my father shot him in the leg. The bullet was coated in flesh-eating bacteria. It nearly killed him.”