Chapter 5

Benham

After the females leave, Zydon approaches with a large grin and grips my forearm. I can not help but compare my marks to his. While similar, they also differ both in design and location. They are also nothing I ever expected to have.

"This is wonderful news. Deeka continues to bless us," he says. "I am happy for you brother."

More tribespeople offer their good tidings, while I would like nothing more than to retreat to my tent. I do not let my irritation win. A newly mated pairing is a joyous occasion for our people, especially after having gone so many seasons without any until now. It represents a future for our tribe. Once the people return to their celebration, Zander comes to my side. Of the three brothers, I am closest with him.

"Let us sit." He moves to the place where he takes his meals and settles onto the flat surface.

I lower myself next to him and wait for him to speak. I have nothing to say, and why waste unnecessary words? It is what my baba taught me.

"It is Maeve who triggered your mating marks?"

"Yes."

"I do not know all of the humans' reasons for coming to Tavikh, but what I have learned from my keeshla is that life on their planet is often difficult," Zanders explains. "They come from a place that is divided into those with much wealth and those with none and the two do not co-exist. There is no common village where everyone helps those in need. It is often why they choose to leave. They believe they may have a better life on this planet."

A moment of silence passes before he claps me on the shoulder and rises.

"I know most of the unmated males have given up on ever finding their mate, even the younger ones like Rojtar. But we, you included, have now shown them that there is hope. Hope that one of these turns of the sun, they too will find their keeshla as we have. You have been blessed with yours for a reason."

Zander returns to the fire and the celebration that shows no signs of slowing down. I sit there for many beats of my heart staring into the flames until it is time for me to return to my tent. The fire still burns well, but I add one more piece of wood, and climb beneath my furs. My nene and baba were mated for thirty-three warm seasons before their death. As much as it pains me to admit, I am glad they went to the lands of Deeka together. I did not have to watch one of them waste away to nothing until they passed as well. That is how strong the bond is. If one mate dies, the other mate soon follows.

Except that is not how it works with the humans. They do not feel the bond as Tavikhi do. It must be earned. I bring forth an image of my mate. She is the smallest of the shefira's tribe sisters—not even reaching my chest—with short straight hair that is pale at the base, but soon turns dark. Her eyes do not match any color I have ever seen on Tavikh. I recall the fear in them, and it makes me wonder if my mate belonged to the part of Earth that was not wealthy. If she had no one to take care of her, how did she survive?

While I know the mate bond between Tavikhi brings an immediate sense of belonging and affection, I feel a sense of loss that it did not come to me. Zander said from the moment he touched London, he felt the pull toward her as though a cord connected them. As though his soul light was reaching out. I have not spoken to Zydon, but I will guess that same pull connects him to Remi.

All I can think about is the fear that glowed brightly in Maeve's eyes when she looked at my face. I run my fingers over the scar that travels across it. Is she appalled at my appearance? I growl and rip my hand away. It does not matter what she thinks. I already know that she will not accept a mating between us. Perhaps that is why I do not have affection for her. Deeka is preparing me for rejection. It is not the first time I have faced it.

Pushing the female's image away, I roll to my side and bring my furs up to my neck. The cold season is fully upon us, which means we must continue focusing on our food stores as well as hide stores. We used most of it to rebuild the dwellings destroyed during the Krijese attack. In the morning, I will go back to training the younger warriors and continuing their lessons to make them better able to hunt and fight.

I close my eyes and ignore the faint tingling that remains where my mating marks have appeared. Although it has never been heard of, neither has a mate rejection, perhaps in time they will fade and return my skin to its former color.

The scent of kokrra from the central fire wakes me. I lie a moment longer breathing it in before opening my eyes. The first thing I see are the darkened mating marks lining my arms. Memories of last night return. Of the celebration given for Zedam and his mate. Of the healer's tent. And of colliding with the small human female that is supposed to be my mate.

I raise my arm, turning it one way and the other, to study the darkened marks. It might be wishful thinking, but I almost see my baba's markings within my own. If only I felt the way about my mate as he did about his own. With a sigh, I lower my arm and rise from the furs. I quickly wash and put on a fresh pair of leg coverings. My belly roars like a hungry luani as I make my way to the central fire.

The sun has not fully risen, and my breath smokes the air. Few people are awake this early, but before long, there will be the sounds of the village coming alive. An elder as well as a female and one of the lesser injured warriors tends to the fire and the morning meal, preparing it for the rest of the tribespeople.

I fill a vessel full of warm kokrra without the shurup nectar many enjoy and take a seat. The quiet mornings are my favorite part of the day. It allows time for reflection and peace before it is interrupted with the chaos of village members wandering around. Of kits yelling and chasing after one another. Of warriors sparring, and the crash of metal against metal and wooden staffs against wooden staffs. It is the time of day when my baba and I would sit together, and he would tell me stories of his hunts and of the weapons he made.

Beyond the scent of the morning meal is the smell of cold dust. Within a lunar cycle it will fall from the sky and blanket all of our territory. It was my nene's favorite season. She said the cold dust settled in order to put all the beautiful things the warm season brings to sleep so when the time is right, they will return even more beautiful. How will the humans fare when the cold dust rises to our knees?

I glance out over the village. At how it has grown with the addition of twenty-one humans. Although they number sixteen now, after the Krijese attack. Of the five humans killed, one had been a young boy and his baba and nene. The entire village mourned the losses and celebrated their lives. From where I sit, and although it is halfway across the village, I have a direct and perfect view of the tent that contains my mate. Movement from it sharpens my attention and my muscles tense.

The hide door flaps open and I sigh. It is the healer's apprentice. Sage. Before last night I did not know her name or my mate's. I had no interest in knowing the names of any of the humans aside from our shefira and that was out of respect for our shefir. Although London is proving to be as strong in spirit and mind as Zander told me. Remi as well. She is brave, fierce, and determined. It had been an honor to craft a sword for her. She is a worthy warrior who is eager to learn and improve her fighting skills. Her strength may not be in body, but she is smart.

I do not know much of my apprentice yet. Many times, I bite back harsh words, but I am reminded of when my baba was teaching me his craft. Although I was a kit making mistakes, while she is a grown female, she is still just learning. I also see the potential in her. There is genuine interest behind her constant questions. She does not ask them all just to annoy me. So I bring forth all the patience I am able to and guide her.

Kyler says his apprentice is a fast learner. She is also using some of the herbs and plants he is teaching her about to craft some type of balm for herself and the other human females. I know many things about my mate's tribe sisters and yet nothing at all about her.

Although I know she is afraid.

The hide flap rustles again and this time it is Remi who exits. Followed closely by the shefira. Why are neither of them sleeping with their mates? The two embrace and go their separate ways; Remi toward the training arena and London toward the tent she shares with the shefir.

I have finished eating and still holding my empty vessel, yet I wait for another female to exit the tent. Moments later, yet another female—Alanda—carrying several woven baskets approaches it. She pats the hide and speaks, but from this distance I cannot hear what she says. After setting the baskets on the ground, she moves the flap and steps inside. Many beats of my heart pass when the hide door is opened and Alanda steps out.

I hold my breath.

Another beat, and there is my mate.