Chapter 14

Maeve

I just stood in front of all the tribespeople present and hugged Benham. Yet sitting on the carved stump is what makes me feel vulnerable. Unprotected. Neither of which I should feel. The biggest warrior in the entire village is seated next to me. There is no one here who would dare hurt me. I'm coming to believe neither would he.

"May I ask you a question?" His voice is low like we're having a secret conversation.

I like that no one is near us. It's just Benham and me. "Sure."

"Why is it that you ate your meals seated on the ground?"

"Ever since I left Earth, I've been afraid. God, even before I left I was afraid. Afraid he would find me. Afraid another man would hurt me. But if no one can see me, then I'm safe. As stupid as it might sound, sitting on the ground where I'm somewhat out of sight, guarded by my friends makes me feel protected."

"I do not think that is stupid. We do whatever we can to protect ourselves. I am glad that your friends have made you feel that way. That no one will hurt you." Benham brushes his finger along my cheek. "If you will let me, I will also make sure that you are safe and protected."

I clasp his hand and hold it against the side of my face to breathe in the scent of smoke and cocoa. Finally, I release him so we can eat.

Sage catches my eye and she dips her head slightly almost in encouragement. London, Remi, and Eloise, with each of their mates, get their food and they all take different seats. I glance at the rest of the tribespeople sitting around the fire. There are more humans present than I recall ever seeing at an evening meal.

A sense of home and peace fills me. Here on Tavikh, there is no upper or bottom tier castes. No standing in a hot factory for hours toiling away for little pay. Here there is community. Friendship. Family. I don't think I understood how alone I've felt since my parents died.

"You have grown quiet. Well, more quiet. Almost as quiet as me," Benham says with a teasing lilt.

"I was just thinking."

"Would you share these thoughts with me?"

It's a question, not a demand. In fact, he's asked for my consent for everything. A kiss. A touch. He even let me decide whether or not to enter his tent when I basically forced him to let me tend his wound. As if I could force Benham to do anything. Still, he gave me a choice. And continues to do so.

"I was thinking about this place. Tavikh. The village. The people." You. "How less alone I feel by being here."

His scans the circle of people gathered at the fire. "I too have felt the loneliness. Especially after my baba and nene were killed. My heart has been missing a piece ever since they died." Benham turns his head towards me. "You have filled the spot that has remained empty these last five cold seasons. And now I do not feel so alone anymore."

There's a sharp crack in the wall inside my chest. With his kindness and tenderness, he is slowly chipping away at my defenses. I don't know that I can protect myself against it. I'm not sure I want to. No man—male—has ever looked at me the way Benham has. Made me feel the way he has. Not even David at the beginning. It absolutely terrifies me. More than anything ever has. And I don't want to be scared anymore.

"Could we go back to your tent?"

I'm not sure if I've surprised him with the request, because he does nothing more than blink. "Is that something you truly wish to do?"

"Yes." This time there is no hesitation.

Benham takes my empty bowl from me and deposits his and mine by the fire. He returns to me with his hand out. I reach for it and let him bring me to my feet. We leave the center gathering place and I can feel my friends' gazes following us. Our walk to the far end of the village is quiet, other than the fading voices of those we leave behind. The sun is almost behind the hills and one of the two moons is a third of the way to its peak.

We reach Benham's tent. He releases me, but only to pick up the torch from outside with one hand and open the flap of the tent with the other. It's built for his frame, so I don't even have to duck to step inside. It looks exactly like it had when I was here tending his wound. The trunks on the opposite side, the chair beside the banked fire, the table with water basin, and the massive pallet where he sleeps. He steps past me to add more wood to the pit and plant the torch in the ground beside it. It catches quickly.

A cool breeze blows across my back. I turn to find the flap tied open.

I walk over to loosen the tie to let the flap fall closed. For a second, I'm not sure I can breathe and then I inhale deeply and turn back to face Benham. He remains on the far side of the tent with his arms crossed. His eyes are unreadable.

Taking slow steps forward, I walk the entire length of his home until I stop directly in front of him with my toes almost touching his. The mating marks along his arms are just above my eye level. I reach up and gently pull them down exposing his middle. With a final step I lean into him, laying my cheek on his abdomen. He towers over me in a way that should scare me. His hand engulfs mine while we walked here. The same hand I had thought not that long ago would cause me harm.

"Will you hold me again?" I whisper against Benham's skin.

There's only a moment's hesitation before I'm wrapped up in his loose embrace. Too loose. I squeeze him tighter and as though reading my mind, he does the same to me. It's still loose enough that I could escape if I needed to. But I have no need to. I snuggle even farther into his warmth. I've never felt so safe and cozy before. Before my parents' death—before everything—we'd always been an affectionate family. I didn't know how much I missed that until now.

"Will you tell me something about yourself?" I've told Benham pretty much all there is to know about me, but I want to get to know him too.

"What would you like to know?" He voice vibrates through him and into me.

"Anything." Everything. "What's something you've never told anyone else?"

There's a brief pause as though he doesn't want to tell me or he's thinking about it. He strokes my hair and I love the way it feels.

"I have always been bigger than any other Tavikhi my age," he begins. "Even as a kit. I wanted to be the strongest warrior and the best hunter of anyone else. Djentar was Shefir before Zander. He was the fiercest of all of us. I learned everything I could from him. How to fight. How to take down a dhembe."

I don't know what kind of animal that is, but his voice is so soothing, I don't want to interrupt him to ask.

"When I turned fifteen cold seasons, we went out on one of the lasts hunts before the cold dust blanketed our territory. Djentar, my baba, Moshur—who is one of the elders—and I set out early one morning. The wind blew swirling the cold dust so hard that it was difficult to see through. We went high up into the hills where a few other hunters had spotted excrement from a luani a few turns of the sun before."

From Alanda, I figured out a luani is some kind of lion but twice as big with long, vicious claws and a mouth full of razor-like teeth. I shudder, picturing what it might look like, and Benham's hold tightens around me.

"We finally tracked it down. I could see its bones through its hide. The beast was starving. It looked up and our eyes met. I knew, in the moment, that I could not kill it. It was just trying to survive. But by then, it was too late. Djentar and my baba attacked first, followed by Moshur, while I remained frozen where I was. In no time, they wounded it, and I had to end its suffering."

My heart aches at the pain in Benham's voice.

"In a final attempt to save itself, it lashed out with a claw that sliced across my face. I should have felt anger or hatred, but I only felt pity. It was then I dealt it the killing blow and I spoke words of apology to the dead beast. I gave it thanks for providing us with its hide and with what little meat it had left. I never spoke of my hesitation to kill the beast."

I loosen the tight grip I have on him, and when I shift backwards, Benham's hands fall away from me. Although he's so tall, I rise on my tiptoes and cradle his jaw between my palms. I guide him down until he's bent enough at the waist for me to kiss him.

He shifts and moves and I move with him without breaking the kiss as he lowers himself to his knees and kneels in front of me. At this height, he's the perfect level. The light flick of Benham's tongue teases the seam of my mouth and I open for him. This is only the second time we've kissed this deeply, but he's a fast learner because I'm riding high on a tide of pleasure. I wrap my arms around his neck and meet the slickness of his tongue as they both tangle together.

Benham grips my hips loosely. Nothing more than that. It gives me the courage to take a tiny step forward so my breasts are crushed against his chest. A week ago I'd be panicking at being inside an enclosed tent with a male and today I'm kissing one. Maybe I can let down my barriers and push away my fear. I want so badly to be able to kiss my husband—and more—without worrying I'm going to freak out.

More than that I want Benham to touch me without the memory of anyone else's hands creeping inside my brain and ruining everything. I want to experience what it's like to make love, not just have sex.

There's a light pressure around my waist. In an instant, I know exactly what it is. I brace for the panic to hit, but it doesn't. Instead, I deepen the kiss and thread my fingers through the length of Benham's hair. It's so soft and makes me miss my own long hair. I don't know how long I stand there, with him kneeling in front of me, kissing him. Time has ceased to exist.

Breathless, I break the kiss and rest my forehead against the hard ridges of his. The harsh rasps of our breath mingle with the sound of the crackling fire that pops. Emotion clogs my throat and weighs heavily inside my chest. I don't want to let him go. Not while I've got this feeling of hope growing within my soul. Loud voices pass by outside and I finally lift my head from Benham's.

His cat-like eyes glow in the firelight, reflecting the flames behind me. I trace the scar along his face. The one the luani he couldn't kill gave him. What a kind heart my husband has. Another sharp crack slices through my walls. They teeters but don't fall. Something tells me they will, though.