30. Aizor

Chapter 30

I'd distressed my pretty mate, and I didn't know what to do about it. The younglings took one look at her and shrieked, running up the trail, disappearing into the woods. I suspected they wouldn't stop until they'd reached their mother. They'd tell her my mate had . . . I wasn't sure what had happened, but she was crying.

"Are you sad or happy?" I asked, tentatively touching her arm. "It could be one or the other, and I need to know which."

She latched onto me, pressing her wet face against my chest. "Happy. So happy!"

This was a relief. "I'm sorry." I patted her back. Should I hold her tighter or . . . I wasn't sure what to do.

"Why are you sorry?" Leaning back in my embrace, she looked up at me.

"I've made you produce water from your eyes again."

"No one's ever built an oven for me before." More tears tumbled down her face. Should I take her to the healer? They might be able to fix this or at least tell me how to make this right. She said she felt happiness, but she didn't sound joyful.

"Then they should've."

"You're so nice and handsome, and I shouldn't be sobbing about it."

"It's kay-kay to cry. Emotions have value, no matter what they are."

"Kay-kay?"

"You say this a lot. Kay-kay."

Her face cleared. "Ah, okay."

"I missed the oh."

"You did." A smile bloomed on her face, not only reassuring me but telling me she washappy.

"The guys I've been with in the past never listened, and they certainly never did much for me. A bouquet of flowers, maybe, on Valentine's Day, but the last one forgot our anniversary. He only remembered when he caught me putting together my gift for him. I got a gift card from the convenience store on the corner from him, telling me he'd bolted out and bought it when he realized he had nothing."

I didn't understand much of what she was saying but that part didn't matter. What did matter was that she was telling me that the males she'd been with hadn't put her needs above their own—not ever. And that listening and doing things based on what she said was the best way to please her.

Who would've thought making a mate happy could be this simple?

"Thank you for building me an oven," she said, wetness no longer leaking from her eyes. She started to wipe it from her face, but I stilled her hands and did it for her, swiping it away with my thumbs while she stared at me with so much adoration, it humbled me.

In that moment, I knew that I would only be half a male if she left. Yes, I would live, but how could I go on without the rest of my heart?

"I'm glad you like it. Are you . . . okay?"

She nodded and sniffed. "I'm better than okay." Barreling into me, she hugged me.

I held her, silently praying to the crystal gods that I could convince her that she would also be only half of herself withoutme.

"Would you like to help me make cookies?" she asked. "I seem to have lost my helpers."

"I'd love to."

Holding hands, we returned to the dining area. She started pouring odd-appearing items into a bowl, and when she handed me a large spoon, I stirred.

"Why don't you just ask the gods for food like this?" I asked as she poured flour on top of the creamed sookar and tiny-maker—no,shortening.

"And miss out on the fun of making the cookies ourselves?"

"You find joy in the art of creating, not only in eating the result?"

"You made Jessia a chair. Why not just ask the gods to create it for you?"

"I don't know if they could," I said, seeing what she meant already.

"If they could, why bother doing it yourself?"

"You're not only pretty but wise, my mate." I nodded slowly. "I understand what you mean. I enjoy not only cutting the wood and creating smooth boards but molding them into the chair Jessia adores. The look on her face when I presented it? Nothing can match that."

"I'd never suggest you stop asking your gods for things you need. I'm thinking about tampons, here, which I'll need soon, but consider how much fun it could be doing things you enjoy with your own hands. I guess it's like a hobby back on Earth. Many people do things solely because it's fun, not because they can't buy it already made. Or in your case, ask the gods for it."

Her observation stunned me. "I've never considered it this way."

"Then my work is done." She looked around at the empty containers surrounding her bowl. "I don't think we forgot anything. Now we need a flat pan to bake these babies on, though some people love eating the dough raw."

"Are you still here in my cooking area?" someone said.

I glanced toward the opening into the main part of the building, finding Muzzire standing there, scowling. "We're making cookies."

"Inmykitchen?" His glare fell on my mate. "Where will I find space to make the stew for dinner?"

"We're almost done here," she said. "Baking's next, and we'll do that in the oven Aizor built for me."

"Never mind." Muzzire pivoted and stormed from the room.

"Should I go apologize to him?" she asked. "I don't want him to think I'm taking over."

"There's room in this kitchen for more than one cook."

"True." Her smile bloomed anew. "What were we saying about my cookies?"

"That I would like them raw—like you, mate." I scooped my finger into the bowl and popped the glob into my mouth. Flavors unlike anything I'd tasted before exploded on my tongue. "It's amazing," I mumbled around the bite. "Sweet."

Her grin rose, chasing away any sadness from her eyes. "And that's the second-best part about making cookies—eating them."

"Not as tasty as you, mate."

Color flooded her face. She knew exactly what I meant.

"Cookie batter can sit before it needs to be baked." Her voice came out thready, and her fingers twitched at her sides.

Since a flat plate had appeared on the counter at her request for baking, I laid it over the bowl.

Then I took her hand and led her to our home, where I proceeded to place her on our furs, flip up her tunic, and bury my face between her legs.