Ahstahl
Several days later, I have to admit—if only to myself—that our wooing isn’t progressing as fast as I’d like. Absently rubbing my chest where our fledgling bond tingles incessantly, I glance over at Aercek only to see his narrow-eyed, red gaze fixed on me. He’s losing patience with my plan. It was my suggestion that we trail our mate from afar to observe her before introducing ourselves. My argument was that it would be better to learn a little about herbeforeshe discovers there are other sentient species in the cosmos.
Which is the exact opposite of what Aercek wanted to do.
His plan was to abduct her and be done with it. Normally, he and I are in accord, but in this, we are not. His impatience is because he’s afraid of losing his second chance at a full life, one with afrater vinculumand a mate. Aercek is the oldest male in our colony without a mate, and it’s an unspoken rule that no one is to bring up…the before. What makes our current situation so stressful is the knowledge that Aercek had afrater vinculumand ananima teneturbefore me. As is typical of our species, Aercek grew up with his firstfrater vinculum, Rahyk, and they found their mate, Luulae, quickly after reaching their maturity.Unfortunately, a transporter accident claimed the lives of Rahyk and Luulae mere days after sealing their bond.
Sometimes the gods are kind, and a bereft male can be given a second chance, but it’s an extremely rare happenstance. My bond with Aercek snapped into place the first time we came across each other in the village—after I reached maturity at seventy seasons, and I’m not sure who was more shocked. To this day, it wounds me that the first emotions I felt from him were grief and dismay. The instant my soul soothed the jagged edges his losses caused, he keened in despair— our new bond severing the lingering tendrils left from his first triad. What should have been a joyous day for me ended up being a grim one. It’s something Aercek’s apologize for many times over in our seasons together.
Rolling my eyes, I shoot him a toothy grin and refocus on our mate. Following her while cloaked has revealed just as many obstacles as it has helpful information. Normally, I’m a patient hunter, but this is far more important than any beast I have slain to contribute to the communal kitchens. My inability to make a definitive decision regardinghowto approach our mate is about to drive Aercek insane. His tolerance for… well, anything is far less than mine. He’s not exactly an easy-going male.
Our mate has established a loose routine under our watch, and it’s been a joy to watch her go about her day. She rises early to cook herself a fast-breaking meal under the gentle rays of the rising autumnal sun. There is a nip in the air, and worry slices through me. Winter is approaching, and she is far from help should something befall her out here. Though she rises early, our mate is not alert until she has her caffeine-laden stimulant drink; its bitter-sweet aroma is strong enough that Aercek and I can taste it from across the clearing. I’ve made a note to keep plenty of thiscoffeeon hand for her in the future. I’m notashamed to admit it concerns me how she would be after rising without her elixir of wakefulness.
After she consumes her first cup of stimulant, a drastic change comes over our mate. It’s as if the lethargy of moments before never occurred, and she starts chattering to herself as she finishes making her meal. I’ve never tried human food, but the smells emanating from the prep area make my mouth water. My species isn’t picky about whether food is fully cooked. In fact, most of us prefer our meat pan-seared, and the meager amount of vegetables we enjoy gets tossed in with the meat. The two species of predators that make up our DNA are predominantly carnivorous, and undercooked meat is definitely the preference.
I have not dared to get close enough to see what exactly she prepares for herself, but the moans of delight over every mouthful make my sheath uncomfortably tight as my pricks try to escape its confines. Watching her eat has become an exercise in control and patience for both Aercek and me. After finishing the fast-breaking meal, she tidies the cooking area, ensuring it’s set to rights for the next meal before dressing for the day. The efficiency of her movements is impressive, and I can’t help but long for the time when I can join her in a daily routine.
She spends her morning hiking around the surrounding area, for all intents and purposes, basking in nature. However, she has a melancholy air about her that neither Aercek nor I understands. We’ve discussed the possibility that she may have lost a human male not so long ago, since she still faintly scents of another. Her actions are baffling to us, as our species isn’t one for idleness. Our planet is a harsh place, slowly being brought back to life by our scientists after the folly our ancestors perpetrated. It’s a planet-wide fight to keep what few resources we have left in pristine condition while rehabilitating the vast areas of barren wastelands. For all the technology my species possesses, some things can’t be rushed or forced.
The gods made sure of that.
Resuming my musings, I have to smile at our mates’ lackadaisical schedule. It’s so much different than the hurried motions I’ve observed about others of her species. Each leisurely morning expedition ends with our mate back at her camp around midday. Where she prepares yet another delicious-smelling meal under the designated covered cooking area before moving to sit under a canopy positioned parallel to the tent to enjoy her succor. After finishing her evening meal, our mate cleans up after herself before retiring to her sleeping area with a book. Frustration at the lack of knowledge we have about her is hard to keep at bay. The only stroke of luck we’ve had so far was learning our mate’s name.
Two risings ago, Aercek happened to step on a twig, the snap loud in the silence of the forest, and our mate’s response was instantaneous. She froze instantly, her hand snapping down to the weapon at her waist, and after a few moments when nothing happened, she started talking to herself. “Get a grip, Keelie. There are all sorts of sounds in the forest, and they don’t have to mean anything bad.”
Keelie … her name is like a melody across my tongue, even though the human language is not my own.
Aercek flicks me with his tail in reprimand, and I peer over at him in question. He jerks his head to the side, a signal that he wants me to follow him. Glancing over into Keelie’s campsite, I see that she is about to settle in for the evening, so I nod back at Aercek, and we turn to leave. Though not so far that Keelie is left unprotected.
Once we are a safe distance away, I turn to look at him. “Yes?”
His frustration is apparent when he barks out a reply. “This is the height of stupidity, littlefrater. Why are we wastingtime following her around like lovesick pups, when we could be halfway home by now?”
Well, this is going to take quite a bit of finesse and cajoling on my part. Mother always said I was a smart male, so I need to make sure I don’t make her a liar. Biting back the words that initially leap to my tongue, I reach for a compelling tone.
“We’ve discussed this, Aercek. Your way will do nothing but terrify her and set her against us. You are no fool, and can smell her just as well as I can. The lingering scent of a human and her often morose behavior indicate she’s lost a human mate. Your plan would make her hate us forever! Quite frankly, I’m shocked that you, of all beings, would treat someone who’s experienced the loss of a mate in such a callous manner.”
I know my words strike their mark when he hisses at me and whirls away, almost hitting me with his tail as he turns.
Insouciant prick that he is, he barks back. “Fine! We will do it your way.”
“Don’t sound so happy about it,fratermine.” Chuckling when he viciously hisses at me, I pad back near our mate’s campsite to settle in for the night. We have to handle this properly— so shewantsto go home with us—because the thought of not being able to see my parents and friends ever again cuts through me like a knife.
Chapter 3
Keelie
As I wash my dishes from breakfast, I have to finally admit to myself that something is watching me. That eerie feeling you get when heat slides from your neck to the base of your spine has happened to me multiple times for days, and it’s getting worse with each passing minute. As a seasoned park ranger, I’ve had my share of interactions with various species, and there isn’t another feeling in the world like the one when an apex predator has you locked in its sights.
I discovered several varieties of berries a day or two ago, when the first inklings of being stalked washed over me like a hot wave. My best guess at the time was a bear. An obvious choice since I was loitering around berry patches, and summer is fading into fall. That means bears will be in high gear, trying to eat enough calories to make it through the long, arduous Rocky Mountain winter. I’d surreptitiously scouted around and found nothing. No scat, no prints, nothing… and the absence of any sign of bears isn’t natural. There should be at leastsomesort of evidence around these bushes. The lack thereof is unnerving. It means something that bears are leery of is loitering in this area, and whatever it is… it’s watching me.
Intently.
Going about my day just like it’s any other day out camping, I hike back to the berry bushes, a small basket swinging from my arm. I brought my Dutch oven with me, and a cobbler made over the fire sounds like the perfect before-bed snack. I thoroughly enjoy camp cooking, and the familiar routine is soothing even though I no longer have a partner to share it with.
Melancholy slices through me with that thought. It’s been two years since my husband, Wayne, lost his battle with cancer. By the end, we were both ready for his suffering to be over—even though he fought for as long as he did because he knew I would be alone after he was gone. Both of our parents had already passed, and as only children, we had no siblings to lean on. We never had children of our own. After a decade together without conceiving and countless medical tests, we finally accepted that it simply wasn’t meant to be.
If he knew I was out here by myself, he would be throwing a massive fit. Camping this far out on your own isn’t necessarily a smart thing to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to pick another spot. This was our special place, and I feel closer to him here than I do in our empty house. The warmth that filled our home no longer exists—it’s become more of a mortuary full of loss and grief. It doesn’t escape me that anything could happen out here, and there isn’t another soul around for miles.
