Page 43 of Keeping His Mate

I step lightly down the narrow path until I reach the clearing. Nanay and her babies aren’t here yet, but that gives me time to get situated. I set a towel down in the dirt and kneel on it, placing my open pack at my side, so I can easily reach in for tr’gory snacks.

After about half an hour, I hear a branch snap from beyond the falls, and Nanay slowly steps out into the moonlight, her pups on her heels.

I smile, mouth closed, just in case she interprets exposed teeth as a sign of aggression and remain still. One of the pups begins to gallop toward me, but Nanay ducks her snout down just as he’s about to pass her, blocking him from coming any closer. I think it’s Stanley, but they’re all getting so big, it’s hard to tell.

I let Nanay get comfortable, plopping her butt down on the ground as the pups roll and crawl and lie down next to her. Then I reach inside my pack and pull out a slab of raw kuhnypa meat. For this one, I toss it toward the tr’gorys. I want to reaffirm the trust we’ve been building before I make the move to hand-feed them.

Just like the last two feedings, Nanay tears the meat into chunks using her fangs and claws, dropping them one by one in front of her pups. Once they’re fed, she devours the rest of it.

Carefully, I pull out my screen pad to jot down some notes about her body language and the order in which the pups are fed to see if I discover any patterns. Then it’s time for me to do what I came here to do. I pull out a smaller slab of meat and leave it in my open palm. Nanay looks down at my hand, then her gaze lifts to mine, then back down at the meat. We play this game for a while, then, ultimately, she stands and lumbers over to me, always keeping her eyes on mine. She’s not looking at the meat as she approaches. She’s waiting for a trap.

But I surprise her by remaining perfectly still, shoulders relaxed and spine straight. I mean her no harm, and I want her to fully understand that. Almost in slow motion, her lips curl back, exposing her fangs, as she reaches for the slab. Without touching my hand, she sinks her front fangs into the slab and pulls as she retreats. When she’s back to her original position, about three feet away, she visibly relaxes and begins the process of sharing the meat with her pups.

I’m down to my third and final slab, and I have big plans for this one. Knowing she shares with the pups, I took this slab home and chopped it into even chunks, so I could hopefully feed each of them myself.

This is all about timing, though. Since I’ll be feeding them and not Nanay, I need to make sure they each get their portions simultaneously, so there’s no roughhousing or competing for their share. I reach into my pack with both hands and grab the chunks from the frozen sleeve. I pull them out in tight grips, turning my palms over so they can’t just pounce on me. Moving my hands in front of them, and after they each sniff and lick at my knuckles, I drop a chunk in front of the closest pup. This forces them to be gentle, in a way, because they don’t get rewarded if they bite their way to the treat. They need to wait until I’m ready to release it.

Stanley’s tongue hangs out the side of his mouth, almost as if he’s smiling at me, as I hand him his piece. I make sure to give his chest a quick rub as he eats, so he knows I remember him.

I keep the biggest piece in the center of my left palm, and turn my palm over as I present Nanay with her treat. She takes it gingerly, much like last time, but with slightly less hesitation.

I’m buzzing with excitement that this worked, and I can’t wait to tell Bruvix. As I go to lean forward and wipe my hands on the towel, my screen pad falls from my lap, landing with a soft thud at Stanley’s feet. Just as dropping my phone back on Earth would send me leaping into traffic to protect my screen from shattering, my hand shoots out instinctively, reaching for it before I can truly comprehend what I’m doing.

Nanay must perceive this as an act of aggression, or at the very least, an unexpected action that must be stopped, just in case it brings harm to her or her babies. Her black lips curl back, as a bark mixed with a growl shoots out of her.

She sinks her fangs into my forearm, and I’m so shocked by it that I don’t even realize what’s happened until I look down at the dirty screen pad in my hand and the furious tr’gory attached to my arm.

A scream dies in my throat as I yank my arm, attempting to pull myself free. But that just makes her angrier, and she deepens her bite until I can feel her fangs hit bone. A sob bubbles up in my chest, and I wonder if this is how I die––doing something I love. Something I’m supposed to be good at. Something I’ve been told not to do on my own.

“Please,” I beg as tears stream down my cheeks.

At some point, Nanay must sense my distress, or maybe she decides a sad human makes for a mediocre meal, I don’t know, but she lets go. I scramble to my feet, dropping my screen pad once again, this time leaving it behind. Covering the open wound with my other hand, I run. I refuse to look down at it because I don’t want to see the damage. Frankly, I’m not sure I can stomach it.

Wetness drips from my fingertips as I apply pressure, and I can only imagine how much blood I’m losing right now.

I cry out as I continue to push forward.

Just make it to the main path.

Help is on the main path.

I repeat this in my head until I break through the trees, tripping over a raised stump, and spill onto the dirt and moss on my knees. “Help! Help me, please!” I bellow, looking for someone, anyone, because I’m not sure I can make it to Kaiva’s on my own.

At that same moment, Bruvix and Varrek step into view, and when Bruvix’s stormy blue eyes meet mine, fear paralyzes me.

Bruvix charges toward me, and my last thought before everything goes black isn’t if I’ll survive this, but whether Bruvix will ever be able to forgive me.

CHAPTER 20

BRUVIX

“Now we finish with a round of bow sprints!” Varrek calls out to the crew. Happiness ripples through the normally stoic group of warriors because this drill is a favorite.

Normally, I would be just as excited, but today is not that day. Time draws near for me to meet Elle-noor by the ayy-corn tree, as she calls it, to accompany her to another tr’gory feeding. If I am late, she will worry.

As we line up, bows in hand, Varrek signals for the next warrior to take off in a full charge. He waits to the count of ten, then signals the one after. When it is my turn, I run as fast as my legs will allow, doing a full lap around the clearing that makes up our training grounds. Reaching the end of the circle, I raise my bow with my left arm extended, arrow nocked in place. Pulling the string back to line up with the edge of my mouth, I let out an exhale, and release. My arrow whirs through the air, making a slight curve at the end of its journey, landing in the center target with a quietthunk.

After all ten of us hit the center circle, knocking each other’s arrows from the target block, we tidy up the space by putting our bows and arrows in the weapon shed.