Chapter 3

Benham

I douse the flames of the forge for the night and carefully stow my supplies. My new apprentice—one I never expected to have, and especially not a human female—has already left to meet her tribe sisters at the central fire. Zara boldly approached me several mornings ago and said she wanted to learn weapon making. I stared down at her like I have many of the young warriors I train to fight to determine if she will continue meeting my gaze head on or glance away. To my surprise she kept eye contact with me. To my greater surprise, I agreed to teach her.

After I double-check no embers remain, I make my way to my tent to wash off the dust that clings to my skin. Someone has come in to tend the fire and the welcoming warmth greets me. I strip off my leg coverings and take the cloth from the table, dip it in the water basin, and clean myself. Drawing a fresh pair from my storage chest, I dress and head for the central fire.

On my approach, there is a commotion at the front gate. I tense, having not brought a weapon with me, but exclamations of joy trickle through the tribespeople until it reaches those gathered for the evening meal. My gaze is drawn to Zander, our shefir. He stiffens and jumps to his feet, his gaze focused in the direction of the entrance to the village. Behind him his tail thrashes. There is only a brief hesitation before he strides forward.

He barely makes it to the other side of the central gathering place before he comes to an abrupt halt. I move to stand close by and I too stop at the sight coming toward us. Zydon, Zander's twin—as the humans call him—and his mate Remi, have returned from their trip along the outer border of our territory. But they are not alone.

Walking with an unfamiliar human female is Zedam, Zander and Zydon's younger brother, who has been missing and thought dead for many lunar cycles. Even in the dying light, his dark mating marks are obvious. An air of excitement, relief, and hope fill the air.

Our tribe brother is home.

The shefira comes to Zander's side and places her hand in his. Finally, Zedam and his mate—surrounded by all our tribespeople—come to a stop in front of our shefir. They stare at each for several moments until they both move at once and embrace. Zander says something to his brother, but it is too low for me to hear. They draw back and rest their brow bones against the other's.

"My brother, we have missed you so," Zander rasps out.

"And I you," Zedam says. "I have much to tell you, but there is someone I want you to meet."

The two separate, and the small female steps forward. Zedam's tail wraps around her waist and his arm goes around her shoulder to bring her tightly against his side.

"This is Eloise," he says, pride evident in his tone. "My keeshla."

"It's nice to meet you," the female says and sticks her hand out like I have seen the humans do when greeting someone.

Zander takes it in both of his and presses his brow bone to the top of it. "Thank you for bringing my brother home. I am happy to call you sister."

He releases her and draws London to him. "And this is my mate, London."

"Welcome home," our shefira says.

Zedam's gaze shifts and meets mine. His lips curl in a smile, and he separates from his mate and closes the distance between us. "Benham."

I grip his forearm and fist my chest. He does the same.

"We are glad to see you alive."

"Thank you, brother. None more so than I."

"Come, let us all sit around the fire and eat and Zedam can tell us his tale," Zander calls out. "Afterward we will celebrate the return of our tribe brother and welcome our new tribe sister."

Excited yells fill the air as everyone cheers. Many tribespeople approach Zedam and his mate, welcoming his return. Eventually, we all settle to eat. Afterward, Zedam tells us of the battle he fought against two Krijese all those lunar cycles ago. Wounded, he stumbled into the forest, and collapsed. When he awoke, there were nothing but blank spaces filling his head. He did not know who he was or where he came from. He traveled alone for many turns of the sun, but never found another village. So he settled within a small clearing and made his home there until his keeshla fell from the sky in an escape pod twenty turns of the sun ago. It took several more turns, another Krijese attack, and another a blow to his head, for all the blank spaces inside it to fill back up.

"We have traveled for twelve turns of the sun to reach the village, but we have finally returned home." Zedam ends his tale.

"Much has changed since you have been gone," Zander tells him. "Many Krijese from King Armik's village fled and have made their new home within the hills. They have spoken to Zydon and want nothing more than peace, as they are dying out. The king and his remaining warriors attacked us four turns of the sun ago. He no longer lives, nor do most of his warriors. For now, we hope that means they will cease trying to make war on us or the human settlement."

With the threat of the Krijese gone, perhaps the humans will return to their village. I am not sure why they came in the first place when up until perhaps two turns of the sun ago they have stayed to themselves and keep their kits away from ours. More than once, I have snapped harsh words at their cowardly males.

The shefira is working hard to help bridge the gap between the humans and the Tavikhi, but I doubt she will be successful. They do almost nothing and rely on us to provide for them without contributing in any way. I want to tell her not to bother, but it is not my place.

As the tribespeople prepare for the celebration, I head for my tent at the far end of the village. Despite the distance, noise will travel, so it is going to be a long night. Inside, I sit on the low seat my baba's baba crafted many seasons ago. It is one of the few remaining things I have of my ancestors. Drawing out one of my many swords and a stone, I work on sharpening the edges.

As the soundsof the celebration around the fire reach me, I continue with my work. While I am happy for the return of Zedam, who we all thought long-dead, I have no desire to be around all the tribespeople or the noise. I prefer my solitude.

It is cowardly to hide in here.

I curse the voice inside my head. It is not cowardice nor is it hiding. I have never been one for people. Even as a kit. Having Zander, Zydon, and Zedam as my closest friends—brothers—has been enough. Besides, there is no sense in befriending anyone when they could die in the next Krijese attack. The same way my baba and nene had. Slaughtered by our enemies while patrolling together outside the village. It is best to keep people at a distance.

Another bout of laughter filters through the hide of my dwelling. It is feminine and not Tavikhi. Considering the few humans who moved into our village spend most of their time avoiding us, it must be one of the shefira's tribe sisters. The tribespeople are still in disbelief that the last spaceship from Terra to land on Tavikh contained Zander's fated mate. And now, it would seem, Zydon's as well.

Every unmated warrior in the village—who had previously resigned themselves to the fact they would never find a mate—has done nothing but talk about these humans. Our shefir has offered them protection from the moment the first ship landed many lunar cycles ago despite the fact they are weak, lazy, and selfish. Even the ones who now reside here.The only exceptions I have found are the shefira and her closest tribe sisters, although I do not know them well.

A small bout of guilt creeps in that I am sitting in my tent when I could be doing something more useful than sharpening swords that are already sharp. I make my way to the healer's tent. Several of our warriors were injured in the recent Krijese attack. I step inside and prop my staff against the hide just inside the door. All three raised platforms are occupied by the warriors with the most grievous injuries while several makeshift pallets have been placed on the ground for the lesser injured.

Kyler glances up from where he is changing a bandage on one of our fallen brothers. "Benham, is all well?"

"Aye. I merely came to check on the wounded and see if you needed anything."

If the healer is surprised at my offer, he hides it. He glances at his human apprentice. "Sage, is there anything you need?"

The female, who is cleaning someone's wound, gestures to the table nearest her. "I could use some fresh, warm water. Our supply is low, and I don't have time to head to the river myself."

She should not be going there in the dark anyway. The humans do not see as well as we do, and it may not be safe. I nod at Kyler. "I will return."

Grabbing the large vessel that is nearly empty, I take it to the river and fill it. Once I return to the healer's tent, I place it over the fire to heat.

"Thank you," the female says, glancing up briefly before returning to her task.

Since neither of them ask for help with anything else, it would appear there is nothing left for me to do. I quickly check on each warrior. All are being well taken care of. I exit the tent, not as focused as I should be. I've barely made it two steps when a tiny, soft body collides with mine. Instinctively, I drop my weapon and catch the female before she falls. My hands burn, and I growl at the brief burst of pain that slowly subsides into a warm tingling sensation that travels up my arms and across my sides.

I stare down into the face of one of the shefira's closest tribe sisters. The small, quiet one. Her eyes, the color of which I have never seen before, widen in alarm and she shakes her head. Only a few heartbeats pass, and her denial is coming in words that grow louder with each one as she pushes herself away, hard, from my chest.

"No. No, no, no."

I release her just as quickly as I caught her and take a step away to give her room. I do my best to ignore the darkening glow of the mating marks on my arms. The healer's assistant rushes out of the tent.

"What's going on? Oh, shit," Sage curses and moves between the tiny female and me, so I lose sight of her. "It's okay, Maeve."

Maeve. The female's name—my mate's name—is Maeve.

"Hey, you're all right. Why don't we head to the tent and get out of this cold? You're shivering." Sage picks the fur up off the ground and the tiny female's gaze locks onto mine again. There is so much fear in her eyes, like the dreri who scents a predator on the air.

Sage wraps the fur around Maeve, guides her away from me, and glances over her shoulder."Benham, you should probably go get London, Zara, and Remi."

The instruction wakes me from my state. I grab my staff from the ground and head to the central fire, where the celebration is still going strong. After a few steps, I hesitate but then shake my head. My mating marks will be obvious to everyone whether it is tonight or in the morning. There is no hiding them.

I continue walking. It is Jodah who spots me first. His eyes widen just as Maeve's did, but in his, there is envy. I ignore his stare and head for the shefira. Zara turns toward me.

"Oh, fuck."

At her curse, everyone's attention is on me. The thing I hate the most. More eyes widen and they all stare in stunned silence. She, Remi, and the shefira break away and rush over, all of them on unsteady feet. No doubt from the special brew the elders bring out for celebrations.

"Sage would like to see you in her tent."

My apprentice's shoulders relax, and she breathes out a sigh. "So Sage is your mate, huh? I didn't she—see—that one coming. Is she okay?"

"No."

"No, she's not okay?" Remi asks.

"She is not my mate."

"Oh, fuck," Zara repeats.