K’THAR

I have never been so pleased in all of my days. After the death of the Great Smoking Mountain, I thought mine would be a joyless existence, to hunt and care for those that were left until we disappeared, one by one. That there would be nothing but more sadness and frustration in my life. But now? With my mate next to me, her pleasure-scent covering my hands and her soft body curled against mine?

There is hope once more. And there is joy.

With a mate, my tribe has a chance. It will be difficult, of course, to rebuild to what we once were, but with a resonance female at my side, at least we have a chance. Before, we had none.

She is not yet ready to mate, though. That is all right. As long as she lets me hold her and touch her, I am content to wait until her arms open up to welcome me.

It will not be long, I think. L’ren sleeps heavily against me, her breathing steady. My hand remains on the curls of her cunt, and I want to touch her again, give her more pleasure, watch her twist in my arms with her need and hear the little pleading sounds she makes. That will wake her, though, and she needs her rest. I will wait until morning.

But until then, I will hold her.

* * *

I do not get until morning, of course. Z’hren wails in his basket and wants to be fed before dawn. It is my turn to tend to him, so I reluctantly leave my mate nestled in the leaves and care for the kit. Once he is fed and burped, he wants to play, and so I let him sit in my lap while I weave leaves together for a new loincloth, then work on one for my mate. The leather she wears will be damp and hot in this heat. Leaves are much cooler and can be discarded when needed. I will have to teach her how, because it is clear she does not know how to take care of herself. I do not mind, though. I look forward to such things.

Just as dawn begins to lighten the skies, the mountain lets out an angry grumble. The ground shakes and the leaves of the trees rustle wildly. I move to my mate’s side and with the kit under one arm, I hold her close, ensuring that she will not fall off the platform.

L’ren gasps and clings to me, her eyes wide with fear.

“It will not last long,” I promise her. “It shakes to let us know it is mad and then it will eventually stop.” I hope. As long as it does not come with smoke and liquid fire, it will be all right. Most of them do not.

“S’rthqk?” She says, worried. “Shdwi gtdwn frmtris?”

The shivering of the world stops, and just like that, everything is quiet once more. Nothing calls from the trees and even the leaves that normally rustle in the breeze are utterly silent.

“It is done,” I tell my mate and get to my feet and offer her a hand. “Come. We will get you something to eat.”

“Bb hokay?” She repeats this and plays with Z’hren’s little hand, and I realize she is asking after him.

“He is used to the earthshakes,” I tell her. “Probably more used to it than I am. They have been more and more frequent.” I worry they have something to do with the fact that the jungle grows steamier by the day, but I can only worry over that which I can control. I am pleased that she worries over the kit, though. She will make a fine mother to our young.

L’ren looks upset, so I do my best to distract her by offering her the loincloth I have woven for her this morning. To my surprise, her face colors the pinkish shade again. The look she gives me is shy, though, and her voice grows soft. When her khui begins to sing, I realize she is thinking of last night and how I touched her.

And then I cannot stop grinning, because I plan on doing so again tonight, and every night for the rest of our lives.

She makes a gesture with her hands and indicates I should turn around. Her insistence is puzzling but I do as she asks. As my back is turned, she takes off her leathers, and I wonder at her people. They do not camouflage, but do they cover their pink bodies in heavy, sweaty hides like she does? Or is this strange habit L’ren’s only? It makes no sense. She calls my name and I turn around, pleased to see that she is wearing the loincloth I’ve woven for her. It hangs loose on her hips and I move forward and pull at two of the fronds to tighten it so it holds properly. “You look very fine, my mate.” I do not point out that she could get rid of the leather wrapped around her torso. She will in her own time.

“Fl nkkid!” L’ren smiles at me and then pats at her chest. “Cn mk onfr mitop?”

One to cover her teats? “Of course.” I am happy she asks.

She takes the kit from my arms and keeps him busy while I gather more leaves and weave them quickly into a flat, square surface to cover her front and weave a second smaller chain to loop around her neck. I offer it to her, but she only holds the kit and bounces him, frowning at me.

“Issa plaesmat? Nottatop?”

“Clothing,” I tell her. “For your teats.” And I gesture how she should put it on.

She makes a humming noise in her throat, clearly undecided, but then hands me Z’hren and puts it on, slipping off the length of leather once the leaves have settled over her swollen teats. Then, she pulls her long mane forward and pats it in place atop them, and seems satisfied.

“Hungry?” I ask, miming food. I know she must be. At her eager nod, I gesture that we should descend lower in the tree, through the hollow.

Her movements are uncertain, but L’ren follows me down through the tree until we reach the lowest level. Even though it is still a good distance off the ground, the platform is widest here. This is where most of the stored food is kept, and where N’dek has been living ever since his leg was hurt.

He is here this morning, still lying on his mat of wilted leaves, staring off into the jungle. Fat One sits on the lip of a nearby basket, waiting to be fed. He squawks and flutters his wings, indignant at his hunger. The noise rouses N’dek and he glances over when I descend with Z’hren, and then sits upright, eyes wide, when he spots L’ren.

She gasps at the sight of him and moves behind me again. I automatically camouflage at her alarm, and the kit in my arms camouflages as well.

“How are you this day, my brother?” I ask my tribesmate as I set Z’hren down on the leaves next to him. I move to the baskets nearby. They have been looking rather flat lately, and I worry we are running out of food. The island is much smaller now with the death of the Great Smoking Mountain, and the game has been scarcer, nuts and eggs not as plentiful. With only myself and J’shel able to go hunting, there are long periods where we do not have the time to gather anything, and it has taken a toll on our supplies. I cannot complain, though. Not to N’dek, who has lost all of his leg below the knee. I am healthy and whole, and I have a mate. Truly, I am the luckiest of males.

My female clings to my side, her hand stealing into one of mine for reassurance. I give her a reassuring look and then open the lid on one of the baskets. Nearly empty, the only contents a half-rotten bit of fruit. I fish it out and offer it to Fat One, who snatches it from my fingers with an indignant trill and then flutters over to L’ren’s shoulder to roost.

She gives a happy little laugh, and her expression is clearly pleased at her new companion. Her tight grip on my hand eases and I relax, glancing over at N’dek before opening the next basket. “J’shel leave early this morning?”

N’dek nods slowly, his eyes wide. He cannot stop staring at my female, and I feel a possessive urge to step in front of her and protect her from his gaze. “He babbled about you and a female but…I thought he was talking nonsense to cheer me up. You know how he loves to make up stories.”

I do. J’shel has tried his hardest to break N’dek from his depression, spending endless hours telling him wild tales to intrigue him…or at the very least, make him smile. He will be pleased that N’dek has shown interest in something this day, even if it is my mate. Of course he is interested, I reason. All hope for a mate for all of us left the day the Great Smoking Mountain died, along with most of the tribe and the island itself.

Nearly everything died that day. I think of the earthshake from this morning and my mouth flattens. It cannot happen again. Small shakes are nothing. They have always happened. We will not have another mountain death. There is no mountain left…is there?

I think of the smoke pouring into the sea at the far end of the land and frown to myself. I cannot worry about such things. I must feed L’ren and Z’hren. I will worry about the mountain later.

“What is her name?” N’dek asks in a soft voice. “Where did she come from? And…what is wrong with her camouflage?”

I chuckle because he has spoken more in this day than he has in the last turn of the moon. “She is mine, N’dek. We have resonated.”

“I have ears,” he says dryly. “I know this. But…how did she get here? Are there more like her?” Z’hren babbles and grabs at N’dek’s braids, and the hunter absently picks the kit up, sitting upright in his bed. “I do not understand how she came to be here.”

“Nor do I. Until she learns to speak our language, we will not know who she is or where her people are.”

“Another island, perhaps? With other clans? Ones that weren’t destroyed by the mountain’s death?” He looks hopeful.

“If that is the case, then it is a strange place where they do not need camouflage to protect themselves.”

He grunts. “It does seem odd.”

As if she realizes she is the center of our conversation, my mate steps forward with the nightflyer still perched on her shoulder and smiles at N’dek. “Hi’im L’ren,” she tells him, patting her chest.

N’dek looks at me, eyes narrowed. “Is she trying to tell me something?”

“Her name.”

“Oh. Of course.” He nods at her and touches his own chest. “N’dek.”

Her face screws up and she looks at me helplessly, then tries to say his name. “Naaaahdeckkkk.”

The look on N’dek’s face is pained, but he nods politely.

“Their language is strange,” I admit to him. “She cannot say my name either.”

“She is unusual looking,” he says after a moment, and when she sits down next to him, he flashes camo, as if alarmed. “Her hands are deformed.”

“I think that is how her people are. She uses all of her fingers, even the extra ones.” I find a basket that contains two eggs and a handful of sweet nuts. My stomach hurts at the sight, but I can forage for enough to fill my belly. My mate and the kit must be fed. I take an egg out of the basket, crack the top and offer it to little Z’hren. When the kit begins to eat, I kneel next to my mate and offer her the rest of the basket. “Eat, my heart. You need your strength.”

L’ren takes the basket from me and I sit down next to her. She frowns at the egg and offers it back to me.

“For you,” I tell her, gently nudging it back toward her. I am hungry—we all are—but it can wait.

“Perhaps her kind do not eat eggs,” N’dek suggests. He is eyeing the food with avid eyes himself.

When she offers it to N’dek instead of keeping it, he looks to me as if asking permission. I nod at him. While he cannot hunt for himself, I will ensure that he is fed. Perhaps soon he will be out of this sad, lonely state over the loss of his leg and he will realize he can still do much good for our tribe, however small we might be in number. He takes it immediately and cracks it, sucking down the contents quickly. Z’hren giggles, clutching his own egg, and L’ren reaches over to tickle him, smiling.

I nudge the basket toward her again. “Eat,” I say again.

“Eat,” she agrees, taking one of the nuts and cracking it like I showed her. She eats one and then offers another to me, and a third to N’dek. I crack mine and offer it back to her, but N’dek eats his. He must be hungrier than he has let on…which means there is even less in the supplies than I thought.

Fat One leans over L’ren’s shoulder and tries to snatch the contents of one of her nuts. I hiss at him and try to make him leave, but he only snaps at my fingers. “Spoiled flyer,” I mutter.

L’ren chuckles and offers the flyer a bit of her food, and I sigh inwardly. She does not realize how much the pet is fed already. I cannot fault her kind heart, though.

She finishes eating and licks her fingers, and as I watch her, my khui begins to sing. N’dek clears his throat and plucks the empty eggshell from Z’hren’s tiny fists, doing his best not to draw attention to us. “If you wish to take her out into the jungle with you, I can watch the little one,” he tells me.

I am surprised. It is the first time he has volunteered to help out with Z’hren since his accident. “If you wish. We will not go far.”

“Go as far as you like,” he says in a strange, mild voice.

I know what he is thinking—that we need privacy to mate. “I will take her gathering, nothing more.”

“Do as you wish. I will handle the little one.” He pauses and then glances over at me. “J’shel said there was another female with her? That R’jaal took her? Did they resonate?”

“They had not when I left.”

His eyes gleam with interest. “That is very good to hear.”

LAUREN

K’thar’s tribe seems very…small. I don’t see anyone else as we leave, and that seems odd to me. The big, hollowed-out tree seems like it could hold a lot more people, as there are platforms and platforms that go all the way up the enormous tree. They might even go all the way back up the canopy and it seems like a lot of space for three guys and a baby. Something isn’t adding up. Have the others gone out? Like the other tribe did when they needed to do some long-distance hunting? Or is there something else going on?

We head deeper into the forest, and I make sure to keep a hand on K’thar’s waist at all times. He’s got a long, flicking tail, but it seems weird to grab that, so I opt for his leafy loincloth instead. Of course, then I’m afraid he’s going to surge ahead and I’ll accidentally rip it off of him.

Well, okay, so I’m not really afraid of that. I’m more curious what would happen if such a scenario did occur, and I’m ashamed of myself for all the lurid thoughts running through my mind. It seems my cootie has turned me into an absolutely rabid hornball because I’m already thinking about tonight and if he’s going to touch me again.

The pudgy little hairless bird accompanies us, riding on K’thar’s shoulder and chirping in his ear. He ignores it for the most part, occasionally plucking a large beetle-type bug off of a leaf and handing it to his buddy. I think it’s cute. I guess I’m a sucker for a guy with a soft spot for animals.

As we walk deeper into the jungle, K’thar points at objects and speaks. It takes me a moment to realize he’s trying to teach me their language. I do my best to repeat after him, but I’ll be the first to admit I’m a terrible student. I keep getting distracted. Not just by our surroundings, or the fat bird-thing that perches on his shoulder, but the movements of his body as he strides ever so slightly ahead of me.

Is it weird that I’m getting turned on by a guy with four arms and skin that camouflages? I feel like I should blame my cootie, but it’s not going to affect my thoughts, is it? Because I keep thinking about him with the baby and how he grinned when it would laugh at him. At how he absently tends to the bird on his shoulder and carefully picks me up when the terrain gets rocky and would hurt my bare feet. He’s thoughtful and he’s kind. I don’t know if Lo-cootie cares about that, but Lo-human finds it pretty sexy.

He cocks his head, and for a moment, I worry he can hear my thoughts. The bird-thing on his shoulder—Kki, whose name I really can’t pronounce—chirps, and he reaches up and puts a finger against the thing’s muzzle and it goes silent.

I go quiet as well, waiting.

K’thar pulls Kki off his shoulder and transfers him onto mine. The little claws dig into my skin and I wince, but give him a curious look. He puts the finger to his lips again, and then pulls me nearer to the closest tree. When he’s satisfied with where I’m standing, he drops his basket, pulls out a knife that looks as if it’s made from a wedge of flint and grins at me. That’s the only warning I get before he camouflages to the same color as the shadowy leaf patterns on the ground and in the next moment, his leaf loincloth drops. He stalks away, naked, and my eyes cross from trying to follow him. All I can make out are shadow-mottled buns and the flex of his arms before he disappears into the greenery.

I…guess he’s hunting? I pick up his discarded loincloth and the basket he left behind. Kki nudges at my cheek, as if begging for treats, and I wish I had something to give him. I scratch his head instead, and he closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the touch.

Distracted, I jump when the bushes a short distance away rustle wildly. Kki gives an alarmed squawk of surprise, flapping his wings and hissing in my ear. I yelp again as the thing’s claws tear into my skin and he climbs atop my head, digging into my hair as he tries to find purchase. Even though he has wings, he doesn’t seem to be big on flying, preferring to walk all over me. Greaaat. I’m a bird owner, though. I know that if I calm down he’ll calm as well, so I do my best to go still and hope that the thing crashing through the bushes a short distance away wasn’t a predator.

“L’ren,” a voice says to my side, and I jump again. This time, Kki coos and flutters back to K’thar’s shoulder, which is just now turning back to its normal blue shade. He’s standing to the left of me, slowly blending back into his regular color and as he does, I can make out every rippling muscle.

“You startled me,” I tell him, all breathless. I can’t help but look down, since he’s without a loincloth and I feel a little bolder after what happened between us last night. Or maybe I’ve just decided to give in to my inner ho. Whatever it is, I stare. A lot.

He’s definitely hairless. And he’s definitely equipped similarly to human men in that he’s got a penis and balls. But that’s about where the similarities end, because he’s got way bigger equipment than I’m pretty sure any human male does. It’s long and thick and rests against his thigh. His sac is full and a darker shade of blue than the rest of his skin, and he’s got a strange protrusion just above his cock that makes me wonder if I’m not seeing things. It looks just like…well, just like a particular knob on my favorite vibrator.

It does explain why all the other girls are so damn happy and smiley to be stranded here, though. No one’s complaining about resonance because they’re getting boned by the gold standard in dicks.

Annnnd I’m staring. Shit.

I jerk my gaze up to his and give him a bright smile, noticing for the first time that he’s panting, sheened in a light coating of sweat that makes his muscles gleam, and he’s holding a rather large lizard…thing in one hand. The thing drips blood onto the leaves from a cut in its belly and I realize K’thar’s spattered in blood as well.

“Um…did you kill it?” I ask, feeling all breathless. “That was a stupid question, wasn’t it? Of course it’s dead.” I’m all distracted, my cootie throbbing so hard it feels like the thing’s going to tap-dance its way out of my chest.

He just gazes at me, heat in his eyes, and I can feel my skin prickling with awareness. I can’t help but glance down and—

Yep. He’s hard. And bigger. And Jesus, I can’t help but pay attention to that. There’s no getting around the fact that he’s enormous. Of course he is. The guy’s twice the size of me, but did he have to be twice the size everywhere? I swallow hard, feeling flushed.

Kki squawks and taps his beak on K’thar’s cheek.

The spell is broken. Well, sort of. I squeeze my thighs tightly together and hug his basket to my chest, very aware that he’s naked and I’m wearing what equates to a fern thong. “Are you okay?” When he just continues to stare at me, I grab a leaf from a nearby plant and then approach him, dabbing at the blood spattering his skin. “Tell me this isn’t your blood.”

K’thar glances down at his chest, where my leaf is swiping at his skin. Oh gosh, we’re standing awfully close together. Any closer and I’d be introducing his Mr. Happy to my belly. He realizes what I’m doing and says something, then gestures at the dead lizard in his hand. I assume it means “All good” because he looks relaxed.

He gestures that I should follow him, and I do, keeping a careful step or two behind him. It’s getting harder and harder not to stare at his butt, especially now that it’s naked and he seems to not care. Either that or maybe he wants me to admire it? Surely he knows it’s some prime ass, though.

Surely. Mine feels positively doughy in comparison.

A horrible thought occurs to me. Next to him I’m short, pasty, and distinctly un-muscular. I only have two arms. Does he think I’m…unattractive? Gross?

I shouldn’t care, but the thought is a rather distressing one. I’m getting more and more accustomed to the thought of a permanent mate with every hour, but I’d like for him to be attracted to me because I’m me, and not just because his cootie demands it.

He kneels down at the base of one of the large trees and drops his kill, then gestures. “Chkat.”

I peer over his shoulder and see what looks like a gigantic hollowed-out nest filled with broken bits of leaves and twigs. Large oblong eggs are clustered together and I realize this must be where they get the eggs from. “Oh. Are we gathering these?” I point at them. “Eggs? Food?”

He takes one and offers it to me, gesturing that I should eat.

“Oh no, not me.” I put up a hand, shaking my head. There’s something about sucking down a warm, raw egg that makes my stomach turn. I know it’s a good source of food, but I also know I’m not quite that hungry just yet. He pushes it toward me and I nudge it back toward him. “That one’s all you.”

He sits down and cracks the top of the egg, then throws his head back and sucks it down with big, hungry gulps. It takes him no time at all to finish it and he closes his eyes, sighing heavily. Jeez, he must have been starving—

I pause, studying him. Every time I turn around he’s offering me food, but this is the first time I’ve seen him eat since I met him. I think back to the meal earlier today with the nuts. He refused the eggs, and when I offered one to his friend, I thought he seemed a little over-eager. And when I gave K’thar one of the nuts, he cracked it open for me and handed it back.

Are they…are they starving?

Is that why he was so excited to get this kill? “Are you hungry?” I ask him, picking up another one of the eggs and offering it up to him.

He studies it for a long moment and then shakes his head, taking the basket from my hands and filling it with the eggs. I’m pretty sure I hear his stomach growl.

I knew it. Son of a bitch is rationing. I poke his side. “I heard that.”

K’thar gives me a sheepish look. He pauses and holds up an egg. “Z’hren.” He touches the next one. “Z’hren nakt.” Then the next. “Z’hren nakt nakt.”

Ah. He’s saving these for the baby. I bet “nakt” is alien for tomorrow. He’s definitely storing food because he worries there won’t be enough. I put my hand on his wrist and before he can place another egg into the basket, I steer it toward him. “K’thar,” I say gently. “Not Z’hren, K’thar. You’re no good to anyone if you starve to death. And I can’t have you dying on me. Not when we’re supposed to be mated, remember?” Now that I look at him, I see the signs of hunger. Did I think his muscles were extremely well-defined? It’s because he’s got no fat left for his body to use. I can see his ribs, and his belly is so flat that it makes me worry.

I don’t remember the other tribe starving. Ironic that we’re surrounded by so much greenery and yet there’s not enough to eat. Seems like there’s something wrong with that. Maybe the volcano or the earthquakes are scaring away all the game. I wonder how long it’s been since the thing erupted.

And how long it’ll be before it blows again. I remember the wall of thick steam bubbling from one end of the island and shudder. “This place is warm, but it’s kind of a death trap, if you ask me,” I tell him.

He offers me the egg again. I shake my head and when he insists on pressing it into my hand, I crack the top with my knuckle and then hold it back out to him.

K’thar gives me an exasperated look, as if saying look what you did, but he drains the contents and rubs his mouth with the back of one hand. He studies me for a long moment and then pulls me close, burying his face against my neck.

It’s a hug. Kinda.

It’s sweet.

It’s also really, really making me aware that we’re both pretty naked. And my woven bib of a top isn’t doing much to hide the fact that my nipples are hard at that small touch.

I look down and I see I’m not the only one affected. I hold out his loincloth. “I think you forgot this.”

K’thar looks down at it, then throws back his head and laughs.