24

Kaitlyn

"I found this on the beach," Serik says in a sleepy whisper. A quarter-sized piece of purple sea glass rests in his palm. "It twinkles like the crystal in your nose. When I conquered the generator, I found it in the grass. I thought I could thank you for teaching me about machines…"

"I do love it." I curl my fist over the crystal and hold it against my heart. Even in the thick of danger, Serik thought to give me a present. I don't care if it's fated mates or Serik's love for me, I'll never tire of thoughtful presents from him.

"I knew you would," he says, fussing with his seatbelt as if it's a Rubik's cube. "I hope to cover you with gems and pretty things as we grow old."

I picture myself swimming in a room full of polished stones. Could he be any cuter?

"Go to sleep, babe," I say once we drive away from Gleb's northern home. "I'll need you awake to navigate the central grounds, or sooner, if I lose our tire tracks from the ride up. The daylight helps, but I have no idea where I am. It's not like there are landmarks for me to follow."

"What do you mean? See where the tire track swivels? There will be an ‘X' on the next stand of birch," he says, pointing out the windshield.

"I hate it when you are right," I grouse. The four spindly birches have an ‘X' of fallen trunks across them. "What good are these landmarks if you didn't point them out on the way up?"

"I could lie and say I did," he flirts with the smirk I love. "Rescuing the humans distracted you, so I don't know what you heard or didn't. You don't know what you heard either."

"Got me," I answer with a laugh. "I'm delirious after the rescue, too. Thank you for helping me join the rescue. I know you didn't want to go—"

"I want to be where you are." He slumps in his seat and lifts his left foot onto the dash. "You wanted to rescue the humans, so we rescued the humans. I never wanted to control your life…just be included in it."

He kisses our joined hands and places them under his chin. His light snore fills the vehicle as he dozes. The sound blends with the vents blowing on high to dry his fur. I feel terrible for the drenched Chuchunya riding on reindeer. The frosty morning air must chill them to the bone. They veered onto a different path an hour ago, but Serik let me follow our tire tracks instead of following them. The last thing I wanted was to be stranded with reindeer and a snoring mate as my guide.

When he wheezes in his sleep, I crank up the heat. Do Chuchunya catch colds? I offered our backseat to Vera and Artyom, but Artyom said they weren't spending the night in their central home. After returning all the animals, they planned to sleep under the stars with the reindeer herd.

Sleeping outside on the tundra? Hard pass. Thank goodness Artyom isn't my mate and dushevnayasvyaz isn't cruel. I'd throw an epic tantrum and then leave his ass in the snow. Adventurous Vera is perfectly matched with the wandering Chuchunya of few words. She talks enough for both of them, too. We'll leave the mating outside in the frigid wilderness to them. No, my male won't drag me on hunting expeditions or explorations. My perfect match wants to spoil me with fluffy furs and a warm home for my mushroom kits. I glance at Serik with love bursting in my heart in the hopes of spying on him sleeping…to find him watching me.

"Whatever thought made you smile, I hope it includes me," he says in a voice weak with sleepiness.

"I was comparing you to Artyom," I retort to goad him into growling. I giggle when my ribbing works. "Don't worry, you won by a landslide. He's taking Vera and the reindeer somewhere special on the central grounds to sleep outside. My thoughts were if you tried to make me sleep outside, I'd kick your ass."

"That's a relief," he says, coiling around my elbow to cuddle closer. "I was afraid you were thinking about the baby—"

"Madison? No, I couldn't pass her to Vera fast enough. I'm not comfortable holding kids that young—too breakable. I wanted her out of the water and in my arms until she landed there. Then I wanted to hand her off before I dropped her. Were you hoping she changed my mind about babies?"

"I'm disappointed—" he pauses to yawn while my heart jumps into my throat "—in myself for not feeling the urge to breed. Seeing your female with a kit in her arms is supposed to shift the selfish part of you into family mode. I thought maybe the danger, cold, and adrenaline blocked those instincts. But now, in warm safety, I don't have that tenderness. Did she change you?"

"Nope, sorry. If I have maternal instincts, they are buried under the rest of my personality. I have no interest in motherhood and I'm over thirty, so my biological clock should be ringing—"

"What's a clock? Why is it inside you? I've never heard a female ring," he says, eyes wide with concern. Oops, that woke him up.

"It's a human phrase," I insist, trying not to laugh. I rub his furry chin with the back of my hand to soothe him. "Human females can't carry pregnancies after a certain age. At thirty-seven, I haven't entered menopause—the period after the childbearing years—but I'm less than ten years from that age. The phrase is my biological clock is ticking because I'm running out of time to conceive."

"Does your clock hurt?" Even after my reassurance, he still thinks I have an organ inside me that acts like a timer. Could he be any cuter?

"Not anymore. I didn't want a family, but I wanted a husband."

"Sydney calls Sergei her husband. Am I yours?"

"Yes," I answer with a laugh. "Go to sleep and stop fishing for compliments. Don't look at me that way! Oh, for Pete's sake, fishing for compliments is when you pretend to be stupid to hear wonderful things about yourself."

"I needed to hear the wonderful things you say about me…"

"Why? What happened?" My damp ponytail slaps our joined hands as I whip my head toward him. The truck jumps at my rough handling of the wheel before I correct my course. If someone was mean to him, they'll get an earful from me.

"The first man I rescued swam away from me," he whispers with a long exhale. "He screamed in my face when I reached him and kicked fiercely to escape my hold. When I yelled at him to stop thrashing so I could rescue him, he calmed down. The things he yelled about my fangs made me want to leave him to drown."

"But you didn't?" No judgment here. I'm one hundred percent team Serik. My male risked his life to pull this jerk from the black abyss and the man has the gall to throw shade? I can't say I'd leave his ass to pick up someone nicer.

"I towed him behind me to the shore," Serik says with a kiss on my arm. "If he went under a few times on the way, I couldn't control it."

"Completely justified," I say with a laugh. "When you grabbed me, I was terrified of your fangs…and said some things I regret."

"We both treated one another poorly, chernyrozd," he agrees, twisting to reach for me. He caresses my cheek lightly before tucking his arms around me. "There should be no regrets in dushevnayasvyaz. Everything works out as destiny intends."

"I don't bring them up to apologize—"

"Never—" I cut him off with a slap on his thigh. He gives me a sleepy chuckle in return.

"Do you think the man feared your teeth because they're fierce? I found them terrifying not because they're crooked or bunched at the front of your mouth, but because you're a badass when you scowl. Combined with your muscles and growl, babe, you're a force to be reckoned with. I don't think he punched at your insecurity. He's never seen a Chuchunya in real life. How was he supposed to know all of you didn't have what you call extra fangs?"

"My teeth are fierce?"

"To a human? Yes, your fangs are the stuff of nightmares."

"Aww, thanks chernyrozd," he says, peppering toothy kisses over the back of our joined hands. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has said to me."

"Sweeter than when I can't wait to feel them on my clit?"

"Mate," he growls.

"Go to sleep and dream of me instead of the humans you rescued. We are over halfway home, and you must drive the last leg. I mean it—go to sleep. My eyelids are heavy—"

"How? You aren't wearing your raccoon paint."

Raccoon paint? My laughter fills the vehicle as I fight to control my quaking belly. Does he mean my eyeliner and mascara? Makeup remover is a luxury not found on the tundra, so I brought non-waterproof makeup. It does tend to run when I cry, sweat, or spend time outside in the misty morning air, but raccoon paint?

"I mean it! Go to sleep, babe," I scold, swallowing my laughter. His teeth poke out from his smile as his eyelids drift closed. Within minutes, snores lace his heavy breathing.

I've dated guys who wore more eyeliner than me. What would Serik look like with guyliner and black lipstick? Frightening. They would accentuate all that's terrifying about a snow monster. Would he let me paint his nails black? I better not. The other Chuchunya males would either make fun of him or line up in our hallway to get fierce gothy glow-ups. Would Sydney kill me or die from laughter at her conservative mate in makeup?

I give each Chuchunya a glow-up in my mind while Serik snores. The cold morning sun strengthens to balmy afternoon rays that sparkle off the last of the spring slush. If we migrate to the boreal forest tonight, I'll experience three seasons in three different biomes today. I'm just thankful we travel without running. Finally, a Chuchunya activity that doesn't require running until my lungs burn. When the muddy tire tracks disappear under grass and brush, I park the vehicle. There's no way I can find my way after being awake for more than twenty-four hours. My adrenaline wore off hours ago and there's no drive-thru to grab a coffee for thousands of kilometers.

"Serik, babe, it's time to wake up," I say, releasing my seatbelt.

He let go of my arm when I had to maneuver the truck around icy patches that I didn't trust. With my tired eyes, I couldn't tell if they were little mud puddles or truck-swallowing icy ponds. His head is thrown back over the top of the seat, with his forehead wedged against the plastic roof. I resist the urge to stick my tongue in his open mouth for fear he may bite me, depending on his current dream. His large hands rest at his sides. The thick fur on his lap has the outline of his semierect cock. I'm tempted to wake him by digging for it, but the gear shaft of the truck would impale me as I bent over. Instead, I drag my sore body out of the driver's seat and around the vehicle.

"Serik, it's time for you to drive," I whisper between kisses up his neck. I lean over him as I release his seatbelt.

"My mate," he growls, wide awake.

His hands grab my hips as he hauls me onto his lap. He thrusts upward to grind against me while clamping his mouth where my shoulder and neck meet. I cry out when his fangs break the skin. The rubbing of our aligned sexes, the pain of his primal claiming, and my sleep-deprived brain ignites a fire within me. I untuck my shirt and drag his claws up to my breasts. Instead of kneading my breasts like I intended, he lifts my shirt to my collarbone to feast on my nipples.

I'm moaning and wiggling with need when his teeth tug at my rings.

"I wish we were home in bed," I wail. Tears dot the corners of my eyes. Exhausted! Horny! Hungry! I need everything at once and I'm too tired to sort through my feelings. "Help me, Serik," I whimper.

"Put your trust in me, chernyrozd," he says between flicks of his tongue. "I was made to fulfill your needs."

I'm a boneless heap of arousal as he lifts us from the vehicle. Holding me against him with one hand, he pulls the lever to jolt his seat against the dash. With the care of a glassblower with their latest work of art, he rests me on my back in the backseat. He rolls my dirty coat into a ball to be my pillow. I sigh and allow my eyelids to drift shut. He fusses at my waist until I'm free from my jean's buttons. His fingers loop within the elastic of my panties with soft tickles of his fur. The cold air raises goose pimples on my thighs as he pulls them off.

My nipples harden to points with excitement. Who gives a shit if we're out in the open? There's not another soul for kilometers. I allow my knees to fall open in silent invitation. Just the thought of him joining us has me soaked and ready for him. He scores my sensitive inner thighs with his blunt claws to give me the edge of pain he knows I need.

What I need most is his love, for I trust him to balance me.

My eyelids snap open when the flat of his tongue parts my folds. Not a tentative lick of an untried youth, but the forceful pressure I need. I don't know who groans louder—him or me—when the pass over my clit makes me squirt. He repeats the move with a chorus of growls that boil my blood. When he spears inside me, I see stars. I knew his tongue was large from kissing him, but holy hell. He must have muscles that humans don't, because he rubs every happy spot within me in waves. Why didn't I demand he go down on me earlier? This is the best part of my monster husband!

Why didn't I push his head between my legs on day one?

"Yes, yes, yes!" I yell, while bucking my hips.

With his tongue weaving magic spells within me and his teeth worrying my clit, this climax may kill me. I'm torn between pushing him away to preserve myself and using my legs to hold him closer, so he never stops. His growl deepens to the bone-rattling purr he only reaches during sex. He releases one of my thighs, leaving an icy breeze to whisper over my heated flesh.

"That's it," I say between pants. "Palm yourself, so we can peak together."

He shifts his body around while maintaining the maddening undulations of his tongue. My muscles respond with a wicked squeeze that pulls a growl from his rumbling chest. Everything within me tightens like a bowstring. I arch off the seat and thrust in violent pumps. His head bobs to swipe at me as I move. I imagine he's using the same rhythm on his shaft, and I detonate.

My moan starts in my low belly and echoes across the boreal shield. My muscles lock from head to toe as my vaginal muscles flutter and quake with my release. I twitch and quiver with the relaxation of each muscle group.

"Look at me," Serik commands as his body blots out the light. "Know it's me who claims you as his female."

His gaze is dark and feral. I've marked him. His jaw shines with my fluids. Smug pride joins sleepy satisfaction in my heart. He takes my limp hand and holds it under his fist as he pumps to his release. Ropes of seed splash on my mound and belly as he marks me, too. My heart thunders in my chest as he roars.

I may be drinking cranberry juice and whatever Chuchunya herbs use for antibiotics for the next month, but I'm too tired to clean myself. Serik folds my legs onto the seat as I roll onto my side. He slams the doors and starts the engine. If he tells me he loves me, to sleep or any sweet nothing, I miss the words as a zonk out without a care in the world. My mate will take care of me…

…because he was made for me.