Page 28 of The Naga Wanderer’s Wounded Mate

Hanging with only one hand from the rope I clung to, she held the boy cradled against her with the other. He’d even coiled his short tail around her waist, squeezing tightly. “Let go, sweetie,” she crooned, the way she also crooned at the sleara. It always made them melt for her, stars, it made me want to melt at her feet. The boy did the same, relaxing in her grip, trusting her when she spoke with such human sweetness. The way no naga female could ever sound, not even to her still-nursing baby.

“She’ll be right behind us, Mess,” I told him, a lump in my throat I could not swallow. “Come to me, and I’ll take you to your father.” The promise of his dad made the lethargic child release his grip slowly. He was so light I barely felt his small weight as I lifted him against my chest. Only when I had him safely cradled in my left arm did I realize a far bigger problem.

I needed both hands to climb back up, but the boy was too weak to cling to me unassisted like he normally might. “Tell them to pull you up. I’ll be secure on this rope,” Jasmine said, reading my thoughts. Her confident gaze met mine, telling me without words that she fully believed she was secure. No fear, just plain confidence in her abilities. I could believe in that; I’d seen her climb a rope before, after all. Not just climb it, but perform a rescue midway. My eyes flicked to Dove, who circled us on outstretched wings with encouraging little chirps.

“Pull us up,” I called out. “I am bringing the boy up.” Several uneasy glances were shared above us, not because they worried about pulling my weight with that rope. There were many of them; it wouldn’t be an issue. No, I knew what they were thinking: leave the female behind? Any naga female would have demanded her right to be rescued first. Whether this was practical or not, the males were used to accommodating those demands. They had probably already considered options and dispatched someone to get more rope.

“Do it!” Jasmine shouted, flinging one hand briefly up to point. “Go!” Even though they could not understand what she said, the command in her tone was obvious. The males leaped into action, Ilesekh the first to reach for the rope and start hauling. My mate brushed her free hand over my hip, then along my tail as I was pulled higher. “I’ll see you shortly, Ekkire. Don’t worry.” It was odd, but I didn’t, though I knew I was leaving her in a situation most would consider precarious.

Once they hauled the boy and me over the edge, many hands dragged us to safety. The child was quickly reunited with his father, but I only spared a short look at their relieved smiles. Ilesekh had come across as a stubborn, hard-edged male, but he was a doting, worried father. He rushed his son to Ishmakah to be checked, his hands petting and stroking as if he could not stop assuring himself the boy was safe.

They were waiting for me with the rope, fully expecting me to go back down to retrieve Jasmine. I’d never forget the utter confusion on Scai’s face when I took the offered rope and lowered it back down to Jasmine without comment. The confusion mounted among the males when I peered over the edge and called to her that it was secure. “Are you not…” Srayhi began to ask, but then they discovered Jasmine was already moving.

Last time, I had only gotten a very short glance at how she did it; this time, I had the full view. Her speed in daylight was also nothing short of astonishing. A fifty-foot-long climb took her barely a handful of seconds, the rope twisting in a quick, sinuous line through her feet. Her body bent and expanded as she alternated between a secure grip with her feet and her hands, hauling herself rapidly higher. She reached the top, barely winded, and allowed me to pick her up with my tail, plucking her from the rope to set her back on her feet on solid ground.

“Uh, is everything okay?” she asked. “Why are they staring?” I did not answer, but pulled her into my arms, bent her back, and claimed her mouth. A feeling mastered me I had no words for. It encompassed many things: how much I cared for her, how much she owned me, heart and soul. Pride for her and her strength, the size of her tender heart.

Then a thought struck me, a thing I had heard males and females alike say to one another in Haven. Words that had puzzled me then, but I understood now. “By all the sacred streams and the stars, I love you, Jasmine.”

Her startled eyes met mine, her head pulling back though I did not let her get far. My heart felt so large inside my chest; I could not stand the thought of letting her go, even a little. I had only ever seen my Jasmine tough and fierce, or full of passion and pleasure. I had seen her weak with illness and pain, and recognized the strength it took to keep going the way she did. She had exposed something very tender about her past, and cried the way humans cried, but that too took strength. Today, in this moment, I saw her tears, and they came from a soft place. These were different.

Alarm flashed through me but was quickly silenced. Her mouth tilted in a smile as she sighed. “You said it first! You beat me to it—wow, Ekkire. I love you too, you know that? You’ve convinced me these mate bonds are real, and they pick right. So very right…”