Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
She frowns at me and shakes her head. “No, I need to get to work this morning.”
“Work? On what?” I sit up, not liking that she puts on her clothes. I miss the sight of her warm brown skin already. “What is more important than resonance?”
“Fishing,” she says promptly. “I need a couple of fish and some vegetables.”
“For what?” I study her. “If you are hungry, I can feed you—”
“Not hungry. Don’t worry about it.” She waves a hand at me, dismissing my questions. “Have you seen my boots?”
I am confused, as confused about that as I am of her abrupt nature this morning. She is being cold to me, as if she has no time to talk with her mate. Did I not give her enough foreplay? Was I not gentle enough to satisfy her or does she still long for R’jaal? The thought fills me with jealousy.
What is so special about him that she cannot see me? Even with resonance?
“You should eat something,” I offer. Maybe she will let me feed her. “I can heat up the food from last night.”
F’lor bends down to lace one boot up her calf. “Don’t bother.” When she is done, she straightens and tosses a cloak over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later.”
And then she is gone, and I am left with an aching cock, a throbbing khui, and wounded pride.
Well, I am not going to sit in her furs and mope. If she is not going to stay in the hut and resonate with me, I will follow her on her errands. If R’jaal so much as sniffs near her, I will chase him away. He does not get to go near my mate. He lost his chance with her, and I intend to remind him of that.
Decided, I get to my feet and hunt for my clothing. She mentioned ancestor spirits. I will have to ask the others if they feel ancestor spirits around them. Back on the island, we always felt we were surrounded by our ancestors who had passed, but they did not speak to us and we did not offer to them. Perhaps humans think differently. Have they done this before and I simply never noticed? Have I been too lost in thought about one particular female to notice what the rest of them were doing?
I will be better about noticing in the future.
Then again, it does not matter now. I only intend to notice one female—mine.
Once I have on a loincloth and some boots, I shove my favorite knife into my belt and duck out of the hut, scanning for F’lor. I do not see her immediately close by, so I close my eyes and concentrate on the scents in the wind. There. Following her scent, I head toward the shore and then pause.
She did not speak lies. She is fishing by herself. She stands near one of the rocky tide pools, a spear in hand as she studies the contents. Good. She is being safe. Sometimes the tide pools catch large shells with tasty creatures inside, or occasionally a fish. I am glad she is not taking a raft as D’see does, or heading out with nets. I would have to stop her.
I pause, because I do not think she would like it if I tried to stop her. She would be furious, and I would much rather have F’lor smiling at me. Frowning to myself, I rub my chest and consider my options. If I go up to her, will she be annoyed that I am at her side again? Will I be seen as needy?
Perhaps I should get her some food instead. She did not eat a morning meal and she needs food to keep up her strength, so we can finish with our resonance.
That, and it would please me to feed her.
I head toward the main fire, where the females that stay at camp take turns cooking meals instead of hunting. Something is cooking, at least. I move toward it and am greeted by the others near the fire, several females nursing cups of shrimp tea and holding their kits.
“Good morning,” says M’rsl, T’chai’s quiet mate. She is the one making food today. She stirs the pouch and picks up a bowl. “Do you want some?”
I lean over the pouch, nostrils flaring. It is…a seed gruel. I make a face at the thought of eating it.
M’rsl just chuckles. “I’m going to take that as a no. Feed yourself, then.”
I point at the paste. “Does F’lor like eating this?”
She arches a brow at me. “Why don’t you ask her?”
“Why do you not just tell me?” Why must every female be difficult?
M’rsl rolls her eyes and shakes off her spoon, setting the bowl back down. “You know what? Feed yourself. Or don’t. I don’t really care.” She moves to sit by the fire on one of the logs there and murmurs something to C’lie, M’tok’s mate. Both of them eye me with disdain.