Page 52 of Keeping His Mate
As several members of our clan come in and shower Varrek and Cloh-ee with gifts and well wishes, I quietly exit the med room and head toward the meal hall where I know my mate is busy cleaning dishes.
“Ikiihri, Bruvix!” clan members shout as they pass by, a phrase commonly used on holidays or special occasions where something grand has occurred. It is a way of acknowledging our many blessings and to express our gratitude to the goddess.
When I reach the meal hall, I find it empty, apart from Waldric and Krahn, squabbling in the back about the measure of a certain ingredient within a stew recipe. At the front of the hall is my Elle-noor, humming to herself as she dries a mug with a rag.
“Hello,” I say as I reach her side.
She jumps, not having noticed me. “Ah!” she squeals. “You’re too quiet! How’d you sneak up on me like that?”
“Perhaps because you were too busy singing to be aware of your surroundings. That is not wise, you know,” I tease, resting my weight against the table nearest her and pick up a dry rag and a mug.
“You don’t have to help me,” she says with that dazzling smile of hers. I feel my tongue tying itself in knots at the sight.
“I am aware,” I tell her honestly. I enjoy helping her––it does not matter with what. Besides, the less time it takes her to dry the dishes, the quicker she and I can return to our home.
“Did you go meet Vahla?” she asks.
I nod. “I did. Are human babies always so little?”
Elle-noor chuckles. “Vahla’s twelve pounds! That’s big for a newborn.”
Placing the dry mug with the others, I grab another damp one. “Twelve pounds is still alarmingly small in my hands.”
Her gaze lands on the mug in my grip, and it heats as her eyes travel along my fingers, ending at my claws, and then over my palms and wrists. “You do have big hands,” she says, slightly breathless.
I shall never tire of that look. That look of longing and lust as she takes me in. It makes me feel different. As if I am someone different. Not me. Someone without the scars I bear. Without the anger I carry. Someone truly worthy of her.
As she finishes drying the final mug, she puts it in line with the others and takes my hand in hers. “Come,” she says. “Let’s go home.”
I say nothing; I nod in response, allowing her to pull me along the main path. By the time we reach the front door, she is pulling my face down as she lifts onto her toes. She presses her lips to mine and sighs against my mouth as if she has waited centuries to feel my mouth on her.
I lift her into my arms, and she immediately wraps her legs around my waist, rubbing her core against my lower belly. Blood surges toward my cock, making it stand at attention between our bodies. She claws at my shirt, and I lift my arm one at a time as she pulls it over my head, so I do not drop her.
We have yet to address the attack again, and what Elle-noor will do now that Varrek has given his approval for her to continue observing them. The tether continues to draw me toward her, making my body respond to her every movement, her every breath, but I do not know if Elle-noor and I will complete the bond. What I do know is that she is in my arms, and her lips are pressed against my throat. That is all I need.
Once we are inside, my tongue is traveling from the base of her neck up to her ear, how she enjoys it. “What’s that?” she asks, a slight nervous pitch to her voice.
“I hear nothing,” I say. Then I hear it. A steady beep coming from my security room. Instantly, we separate and run up the stairs to the second floor.
I look over everything, the server, the feeds of each camera, the perimeter tracker, and I find the source of the unpleasant noise. It is the storage folder, angrily blinking at me from the main screen. When I open it, I discover several error messages from the previous eve, all the way into the morning. The cameras, every single one of them, cut out in the early hours of the morning. The footage from that time has been lost.
“What does that mean?” Elle-noor asks from behind me.
I sigh, confused, but mostly worried. “It means our cameras have been tampered with.” I am certain it is not a fluke or an issue with the replacement parts Nee-roh generously provided. The cameras are of the highest quality, and there has never been a time when they have simultaneously stopped capturing footage. This is deliberate and strategic.
I pick up the nearest screen pad and send a comm to Ahlvo. He answers, and it is clear he is stepping outside the med room so as not to disturb the new parents. “A problem?” he asks.
“Very suspicious,” I reply. “Get Varrek. He needs to hear this.”
Ahlvo nods, and I am turned upside down as he heads inside and quietly extricates Varrek from the large group of people who have piled into the med room to meet baby Vahla.
“What is it?” he asks, looking exhausted and too distracted for anything other than talk of his newborn daughter.
I take a long breath before I begin. “Recordings from last eve into this morn have been dropped from all cameras. It seems a deliberate move to disable our security systems.”
“You are certain?” he asks, his face hardening as he shifts back into his role as leader.
“Bzzsil Chi” is all I reply. I know it is him. I feel it deep in my blood.