VAAN

My mate is so happy to have the new female here.

The new one is not mated. When she stands close to my Gwen, I can smell her mating musk under the layers of filth. It is old and faint and nearly drowned in the stink of her, but it is there and it is not touched by another male’s fires. Unmated females in a nest are trouble, because other males will want to find her and take her for themselves.

…at least, they will until they smell her. Then the stench will likely drive any but the most ardent of suitors off. She is not sweet-smelling like my Gwen. It takes everything I have not to drive her from the camp, but my mate wants her here, and I will do anything to make my female happy.

That includes breathing through my mouth.

I can always hope another male will show up and claim her, but the stink of her hides her unmated scent far too well. I am more worried about my Gwen's delicious musk attracting another to her. I will fight to keep her at my side if need arises. Just thinking about it makes me flick my claws against a nearby stone.

The smelly female shivers.

Gwen looks over at me and frowns.

I rumble in irritation. The females have been wandering around in the rubble of our old den. The place Gwen and I have slept in for the last few days is destroyed, the roof caved in. I do not recall how it happened. The sight of the destruction worried me, but I can smell no other drakoni scent in the area, and there are distant storm clouds in my memory that tell me I am the one that created this problem.

We need a new nest. Every time I shift to battle form, though, Gwen makes unhappy noises and gestures at me until I change back. She does not want me to fly. I change back, and the females fuss over our den, looking for items and putting them in bags. I want to leave, to find a new safe place, but they do not seem to be in a hurry. I scan the skies, looking for other drakoni who might think to approach my territory, but things are quiet.

My thoughts are quiet, too. The females babble on in their soft voices, and I ignore the smelly one, listening only to the pleasant sounds of my mate's voice. She sounds lovely and refreshing, like cool water on sun-heated scales, and I try to pick out words I recognize. They speak so quickly to one another that I am not able to understand, so I simply watch my mate's expressive face, memorizing her features. My memory is better when I focus on her. I do not mind this, as she is my favorite thing to watch, to scent, to touch. I fill my senses with her, and when Gwen's bag gets too full, I stride forward, ignoring the cringing, smelly one, and take the satchel from her hands.

She looks at me in surprise, and then her pretty lips curve up. "Vaan, thku," she tells me, in words that she uses when she is happy. Her eyes are not sweating, but it has been a while since she has had her hair stroked, so I reach out and do so until I am satisfied that she will not be troubled any longer. I look over at the other female, and hers are watering. Of course they are. She has no mate to stroke her hair. I flex my claws and then close my fist, biting back a shudder. She will have to wait for one. I do not want to touch any female but mine.

Gwen notices me looking at the other. She touches my arm, says something too quick and tongue-tangling for me to understand, and then slides her hand along my shoulder as she moves past me. The other female watches me, and it is obvious even to my storm-filled mind what they are thinking.

Gwen is being possessive. She is claiming me as hers in front of the other female. It does not matter that we have not mated fully yet, or that she does not smell of my fires. She is showing the other that I belong to her and she belongs to me.

My chest puffs up with such pride, such utter joy that I want to turn my Gwen on her belly and claim her right now. Let the other watch, since it will just stamp into her mind even more that I am claimed. I move forward to take Gwen in my arms…only to notice she is absently rolling one wrapped wrist, as if it pains her.

Not yet, then.

I can be patient. As long as she claims me in front of the other female, I can be very patient. Rumbling my pleasure, I give my mate a look of promise that makes her cheeks go dark with color. Instead of giving me another touch, though, she moves over to the other female's side and urges her forward. Good. We are finally moving somewhere instead of standing in the rubble. I suppose I can wait a bit longer to tease my mate, then.

Gwen and the smelly one walk down one of the long human paths that are littered with weeds and strange-smelling heaps of junk that perch on four dark circles. I shift to battle form and move to scoop up my mate in my claws so we can travel swiftly, but the other female screams in terror, her eyes sweating, and my mate makes the unhappy “no” noise at me until I shift back.

Fine then, we will walk. I bite back my irritation because when I shift back to my two-legged form, Gwen touches my arm and makes soothing sounds at me.

Clearly I am a male easily swayed by a pretty mate. I do not mind this, though. Not at all.

So we walk. The two females stick to the human paths, weaving between the metal boxes. I stay wide, doing my best to ensure that they are not bothered by other predators - human or otherwise—and keep an eye out for game. They walk so noisily and chatter so much that any game is scared away, though, and by the time the sun goes down, I have nothing to feed my humans. I have smelled things on the horizon, of course, but I will not leave my Gwen's side. If she wants me to catch food for her, I will need to shift forms. She knows that, and I wait for her to ask.

She does not, though. Instead, they point at a small, squat building in the distance and it is clear this will be the new nest. It smells of human worse than the last nest.

I did not think such a thing possible, but I am learning I have underestimated some humans and their stench.

I step in front of the females, growling low at Gwen before she can go through the door and inside the human hive. I have to make sure that it is safe, first. Normally the breeze would carry any scents toward me, but the more something smells like humans, the more difficult it is to pick out new scents versus old. I think of a few days ago, when the male was threatening my mate, and anger boils in my gut. I did not smell him because the human aroma was too layered, too overwhelming. I will not let such things happen again.

So I go inside first and scan the area. A variety of scents are here—rodents, dust, dead leaves, but the human ones are old and distant. I continue to move through the dwelling just in case, looking for danger. When I am satisfied there is nothing, I return to the front where Gwen and the other female are waiting.

"Come," I tell Gwen, using her human words. Out of habit, I try to connect my thoughts to hers, but I meet nothing. She has not taken my fires yet. Frustrating, to be so close to speaking to her—truly speaking and sharing our thoughts—but to still be so far from it. There will be no mating this night. I can tell just by looking at Gwen that she is tired, her eyelids heavy, her steps slowing. I have been carrying her pack all day, and when she reaches for it, I bare my fangs to let her know my displeasure.

She rolls her eyes and bats lightly at my arm, taking it anyhow. She is less and less afraid of me, which I like.

And she is touching me again, which I like even more.

Gwen takes charge once more, moving ahead of myself and the female and surveying her surroundings. She picks through two of the rooms before deciding on a third, and then the females both begin to make their individual nests. The small, dirty one gives me worried looks that fuel the predator side of my mind, the part I fight hard to keep under control. I resist the urge to snap my teeth at her and instead focus on Gwen. Gwen with her soft skin and dark eyes. My claws itch to run through her hair, but I tell myself to be patient. It will be time to sleep soon enough.

Then I will see if she challenges me with her mouth again.

The smelly female sets her bedding down next to Gwen's, thinks for a moment, and then looks at me. When Gwen turns her back, the female picks up her blankets and moves them across the room, as far as she can. She looks at me again, then lies down and pulls the blankets over her head and faces the wall.