The Naga Wanderer’s Wounded Mate

Robin O’Connor

Serpents of Serant Book 11

Copyright © 2026 by Robin O’Connor

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Princely Gates Publishing

Table of Contents

A Quick Note:  

Prologue  

Chapter 1  

Chapter 2  

Chapter 3  

Chapter 4  

Chapter 5  

Chapter 6  

Chapter 7  

Chapter 8  

Chapter 9  

Chapter 10  

Chapter 11  

Chapter 12  

Chapter 13  

Chapter 14  

Chapter 15  

Chapter 16  

Chapter 17  

Chapter 18  

Chapter 19  

Chapter 20  

Chapter 21  

Chapter 22  

Chapter 23  

Chapter 24  

Epilogue  

Appendix  

Author’s Note  

Bonus Content  

About the Author  

Books by Robin O’Connor  

A Quick Note:

I try to make all my books readable at any point in the series. However, if it’s been a while since you read my last book or you feel like you want more information on a character, there is an Appendix at the end of the book for reference.

Happy reading!

Robin

Prologue

Jasmine

My eyes were on the dragon and the naga hunter in charge of it. I couldn’t help myself. If I looked away, if I didn’t pay enough attention, I might miss the signal. The last thing I wanted was to be left behind, even if Haven was a pretty wonderful place. As far as ending up stuck on a strange, dangerous world far away from Earth, we’d all lucked out.

There was a restlessness coursing through my veins that had plagued me all winter. I thought it had to do with Jolene and the other girls I’d survived with on the crashed ship still being trapped aboard it. Now that they were out, that feeling should have settled, but it hadn’t. I was beginning to believe it was simply part of my nature that had always struggled to settle down.

“Are you still planning to hitch a ride if reinforcements are called?” Kalani asked. She was nearly impossible to hear when she approached, her stealth skills better than mine. I’d been fussing with the drying strips of meat by the already-finished curing shed for the past hour, my eyes on the guys and dragon building the second one nearby. With the air still a little chilled with the last vestiges of winter, nobody had tried to keep me company. Kalani was not deterred by such circumstances; she was the most badass woman I’d ever met, and I had a bit of a girl crush on her.

She looked like a regal queen as she stood next to me. Her posture was perfect, confident, and her body decked out in leather hand-tooled by either her mate or Cosima. Weapons hung from her in various places too, and that included an ancient naga rifle—one that still worked, and with deadly results. If anyone should have been part of the reinforcements standing by to fly to the crashed ship, it was her. She’d chosen to stay behind and be part of the force guarding Haven instead.

I shrugged because I wasn’t quite sure if she approved or disapproved of this plan. At least it appeared she hadn’t told on me yet. If she had, I was pretty sure some hunter would be watching me. Zathar’s orders, for my own protection. “I know the ship; they don’t. I’m a good shot too, and an even better hunter than any of them.” Well, perhaps not better, but I could keep up, do my part.

Kalani’s expression said she believed me, calm, serene. There was even a thoughtful nod. Then her gaze shifted, and she turned to watch the guys as they worked to erect the second shed’s tall roof beams. Her mate was with them, his scales glittering like midnight beneath the violet Serant sun. He’d left his axe at home, but that didn’t make him any less impressive. There was only one other naga who rivaled him in size: Krashe, the former warlord of the Bitter Storm naga.

Automatically, my eyes flicked across the hillside to where the warlord could usually be found—at the site of the second greenhouse—and, sure enough, he was there. His head bent low over elaborate plans drawn very precisely with charcoal on leather skins. He had Vera and his mate, Naomi, with him, and both women were probably overloading him with input he didn’t need at this stage. His expression remained peaceful, however, and his tail was partially curled around his mate’s growing waist. Another pregnant woman, one of several around the camp.

Not that I minded that, not at all, but it was just another way in which I felt like I didn’t fit in. The unmated males had been relentless during the winter, trying to woo me and the four girls who had managed to escape the crashed ship. For over three months, they’d been pretty persistent and very sneaky, finding ways around Zathar’s very strict rules about approaching us.

At least all it took was an actual touch to make them move on, and I’d taken the gamble very early on to let them all try. In fact, I’d made it my business to shake the hand of every newcomer, just to make sure they knew not to bother. Which was why I felt pretty comfortable sneaking along on this trip. In a sea of guys vying for a human mate, I was off the list.

I checked the dragon again, then my bag and bow waiting nearby, so I could race into action just like everyone else. Zathar had told me I couldn’t go, for my own safety. His rules were usually fair; I didn’t for a minute doubt he’d made the decision with only my best interests at heart. I was going to try to leave anyway. The restlessness, perhaps just boredom, and a little hint of guilt over not having done more while Jolene was rescuing everyone on the ship. All of it was weighing on me.

The whistle that cut across the clearing was so sudden and sharp that I froze when I should have been moving. That was it, that was the call for immediate backup at the crashed ship’s site. The dragon dropped the beam to the side like it was on fire, and the males scrambled into practiced, cohesive action. To fit into that choreographed dance looked almost impossible, but I was going to try anyway.

Snatching up my weapons and pack, I gave Kalani a nod, and then I broke into a run. Ducking around the back of the finished shed and cutting across the building site of the new one, I raced for the dragon’s massive golden flank. I’d picked my route carefully so I’d be entirely out of sight of Zathar, who was at the entrance to Ahoshaga. At the back of the dragon, I was also lost in the hustle and not immediately visible to Zsekhet, the dragon rider. I was certain Zathar would have told him the exact number of people in this party. My name wouldn’t be on the list.

The trick was convincing the naga hunters hustling onto the dragon’s back that I belonged there. Once we were up in the air, I was pretty certain they wouldn’t stop for anything. It was very lucky that Joxra was the last one in line, and he said nothing as he boosted me up the dragon’s flank. The former Bitter Storm warrior had a bit of a reputation as a hothead who clashed regularly with Zathar. Even if he knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, he might not care.

Joxra had arrived here with Cosima and Zsekhet when they escaped Bitter Storm territory. He’d come with several friends, as well as a small female naga baby and two slightly bigger male younglings. I’d first assumed they were his children. He had no issue leaving the baby in Farah’s tender care, though, acting more like an uncle than a father. That’s when I’d learned they were the children of his dead brother.

He thought nothing of letting them be raised by the community rather than a single parent. Just as he thought nothing of leaping onto the dragon’s back for what could be an extended—or even deadly—mission away from them. I liked being untethered, free to go where I wanted, but in his place, I didn’t think I would be so casual about it. It was, however, not my place, and we were from very different cultures. I tried not to judge.

I worked rapidly to secure the buckles on my pilfered flight harness, like I was supposed to. Something I’d asked Cosima to practice with me before Zathar had decided I couldn’t come. The dragonrider’s mate was much quicker at it than I was, but my buckles were still secure in no time. Joxra was faster, and he leaned in and silently yanked on each buckle to check it. I tried not to fume inside, not to consider that patronizing. Any other time and place, what he did was common sense. In fact… I twisted and started yanking on his buckles in turn, my bold act met with a husky chuckle. “Thank you, female.”

“Hey,” a voice went up, but it wasn’t coming from anyone on the dragon itself. I could feel it bunch beneath my thighs as the beast gathered itself to leap into the air at the command of Zsekhet. The call came from the ground, but close by. I looked, though every instinct in me told me to duck low and hide. Kalani’s mate, who was also staying behind, had approached and was frowning up at me with a gaze full of accusation. “You’re not supposed to be there!” he said.

Kalani came to my rescue before her mate could turn toward Zsekhet to stop him from taking off. Her eyes met mine once before she grabbed hold of Iave’s shoulder and pulled him down, murmuring in his ear. Heart pounding in my throat, I looked up, past the line of naga hunters seated along the dragon’s spine, all the way to where Zsekhet rode at the base of the beast’s long neck. Had he seen this? Was he going to throw me off anyhow?

Joxra’s hands had already slid to the buckles holding me in place, hovering there as he waited to see what Zsekhet would do, just like me. “Sorry, human. It was a good attempt,” he whispered, proving he knew full well I wasn’t supposed to be there. He definitely scored points for that, but the red-and-orange-flecked male wasn’t my mate, and he never would be. With his streak of insolence, he might have been fun, but I liked having him as a friend in my corner even better.

Zsekhet glanced over his shoulder, his golden scales glittering in the exact same way as the dragon’s massive scales did. Dark hair and black horns made him stand out among his peers, but something else did too: Zsekhet had a zest for life that drew people to him. I’d been told he’d used that to his advantage when seducing his mate, Cosima. There was a twinkle that flared briefly in his golden gaze, there and gone again. I was pretty sure I’d imagined the wink entirely.

With a whooshing noise, he faced forward, and the dragon leaped. We raced skyward with a rush of wind, my hair whipping wildly around my face. Some of the naga hunters weren’t so fond of flying, clinging with tight fists to the flight harness or the spikes that lined Sesethul’s massive back. Others did not mind, but I had a feeling most naga much preferred having their feet—or, er… tail—on solid ground.

Joxra had slapped the tip of his tail over the hand holding my bow to keep it from flying from my grip. He let go when the dragon leveled off, and I twisted to warn him that I had it. “I can hold my own, got it?” This wasn’t going to work if he and the others were just going to hover protectively around me. They had respect for my skills with the bow during practice, and they’d respected them when we had rescued those on the crashed ship. I’d been one of the few sent into the ship, even; that wasn’t a job for the faint of heart.

He dropped his tail, and the bow caught the full force of the wind just like the rest of me did. But I had it, I did. There was no way I’d let my best weapon slip from my grip. Joxra didn’t take offense, or if he did, he didn’t show it. His red face tilted into the rush of wind the dragon’s wings pummeled into submission with each downward stroke. His copper-tinted hair was restrained by braids and beads, and some of those decorations looked deceptively sharp.

He was handsome; there was no denying it. When I looked forward, appraising the hunters in various shades clinging to Sesethul’s back, I had to admit they all were. Some more rugged than others, but all exotic and powerful. There wasn’t a single guy here who was out of shape, and they were all incredibly skilled with their chosen weapons. I knew because I’d watched them spar. They even sparred with Kalani sometimes, but I wasn’t brave enough for that.

Yet none of them were my mate, and I was happy with that too. Unlike the girls who’d been rescued with me three months earlier, they’d already come around and now actively hoped one of the guys would be theirs. This new group, recently awakened from stasis, would be exactly the same in no time.

The flight was longer than I recalled, yet it was short at the same time. My heart rate soared when the crashed ship came into view in the distance. It didn’t look the same as last time, which had only been three days ago. More and more snow had begun to melt as the temperatures rose. Spring was in full swing now, but last week, it had still felt like winter stubbornly persisted. With much of the bulk of the ship no longer covered in snow, it looked like a great black monument sticking oddly out of the purple-hued plains.

Hills rolled toward it from one side, covered in dense forest. It was the direction we’d come from, and I knew this was where the group that had remained behind had made their camp. I searched for any sign of them but saw no smoke rising from campfires. Leaning to the side, I peered down Sesethul’s flank at the ground rapidly passing beneath us as he descended. The forest was a little more open here, and I was pretty sure I saw the glitter of blue scales. Was that an ally or an enemy?

“Thunder Rock warriors, but only a handful,” Joxra murmured. “There are several Sun Fang to the east,” he said, pointing. I followed his hand and saw what he’d seen: more scales, these a more muted brown but glittering with orange flecks. Those had to be Sun Fang, allies that had been part of the party that had rescued me last winter. Something had changed, and they’d flipped sides…

I was not the only one leaning to the side to get a good look. There did not appear to be any fighting going on, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t already happened. As fast as Sesethul had flown, it had still been well over an hour before we’d gotten here. How quickly had the group with the ship called for aid? In time for us to arrive before anyone was injured?

The dragon landed beside the ship, out in the open by the partially rebuilt palisade that surrounded the airlock. They’d been busy, and had perhaps moved their camp behind these walls after we’d left three days earlier. It looked in disarray from the outside, the wood scorched from earlier fights and splintered by arrows and spears in places. When Corin led a group out through the crooked gate to greet us, I knew we all drew a breath of relief.

I was one of the first to have my buckles undone and slide to the ground. My bow was at the ready as I went to greet Corin’s mate, Min-Ji. She peered at me in surprise from behind the raised coils of his silvery-blue tail. “What are you doing here, Jasmine?” she asked, drawing all eyes my way.

The ground rocked beneath my feet, a shuddering, wavy sort of feeling that was hard to put into words. For a split second, I thought it was the dragon’s doing, his tail whipping wildly against the ground behind his body. Then recognition sizzled through my brain. “Earthquake!” I screamed before the rest of the warriors could climb down. “It’s an earthquake!” I flung my hands at Zsekhet, still mounted at the base of Sesethul’s neck. “Take off! Take off now!”

He did not hesitate, screaming for the males to hold on as he made the beast leap into the air. I tumbled as the ground rocked again, the rumbling fiercer this time. It occurred to me then that fighting was the least of our worries. This earthquake was going to send the superstitious attackers running, but if it got any worse… these plains might become unstable. I’d only just thought that when the quake came in full force. Corin was ordering everyone into the ship, and I struggled to find my footing and do the same.

The palisade opening was up ahead, the airlock not far beyond it. The ship would be safe; it was made to withstand escaping a planet’s atmosphere and traveling faster than the speed of light. It might sink, but the earthquake would not harm it. I pumped my feet, my hands holding tightly to my bow and my backpack. The quiver of arrows thumped heavily against my hip with each step I took across the bucking, seesawing ground.

“Jasmine!” Joxra shouted, and his tail slammed into me, crushing me to the ground. Arrows sailed over my head, a spear piercing the ground uncomfortably close to my hand. I rolled and saw another wave of projectiles sailing down toward me, right as the ground opened up and swallowed me whole. There was only darkness after that.

Chapter 1

Ekkire

This time it was definite, I told myself. I’d left Haven after a long but interesting winter, filled with far too much company for a male like me. I’d given the humans a chance and sated my curiosity about all these hunters from many different Clans working together. Now it was time to travel alone, to give in to the itch to roam. It was time to be a proper Water Weaver male: collect lush fabrics and set out to trade them in distant lands. Collect treasures along the way and perhaps convince a naga female with nice emerald scales to have a youngling or two with me.

That was the plan; that was what life should look like. I had let myself get tempted, and tempted again when Zeidon had found his Farah. If even a Water Weaver male could make Haven his home, fit in with the Clan of outcasts… maybe I could too. Except I’d never craved company the way Zeidon always did. My friend could talk your ear off over a fire, and he always had at least three rescued animals to nurture. Of course he fit in there. I didn’t, because I was exactly the kind of male a Water Weaver male should be.

Still, when I’d set out from Haven a few days ago, I’d headed toward the massive sky wreck full of sleeping humans. It was my last attempt to assure myself I’d made the right choice. If none of the thousands aboard that ship called to me, it proved I was right. I was a Water Weaver through and through. And I had been right. Corin had let me tour the massive ship under the watchful gaze of his mate, Min-Ji, and I’d discovered no scent that called to me, no face that held impossible allure. My mate was not human.

The cohesiveness, and the peacefulness that came with it, of the group of various hunters at Haven had rubbed off on me, however. When I’d left the sky wreck and began my long, meandering way toward the Water Weaver lands in the distance, it had never left me. I’d spotted both the azure of Thunder Rock and the brown and orange of the Sun Fang clan not far from the sky wreck. Loyalty to the friends I’d made at Haven had called to me, and I’d hurried back with a warning.

It was strange, hovering right there by the mouth of the sky wreck as I waited for the impending attack with the others. I should have left then; I’d already done more than was expected of me. Yet I waited, and I worried, just as much as they did, that the reinforcements Corin had called for would not arrive in time. I gripped my trident as if I intended to stand my ground and fight with them, and the anticipation of the fight coursed through my veins.

Maybe I only thought I’d made my peace with the lack of a human mate. The grip of my fist around my favorite weapon told me I still clung to a faint hint of hope. I couldn’t explain it—how the humans intrigued me so much that their mere presence made me stray from my chosen path. It was madness.

When I saw the dragon in the sky racing toward us, I knew I wasn’t needed here, and I slipped away. Silently retreating. This was not my fight, I told myself, as I vanished beneath the treeline. There, the sun became cooler, filtered through the dark purple leaves beginning to sprout everywhere with spring’s approach. I shook my head and tried to shake the disappointment coursing through me with the motion, too.

Time to head home. Then I thought of that word and considered what it meant to me. A Water Weaver male roamed the wilds most of his life, trading, hunting, and providing for the village through his absence. The only time we stuck close was when females were in heat, or when our youngling was born. I had not been lucky in that regard, but having seen Haven, I wondered if I’d be satisfied with such a small part in the rearing of my child. If it was a boy, once weaned, he would be my responsibility entirely. That was the closest to constant companionship most males ever got. Having a son.

No, that did not sound at all satisfying now that I thought about it. A youngling I could not hold or touch, if she were a daughter, made me ache; a son I had to take everywhere on my travels seemed too dangerous. There would still be loneliness, heartache, danger. No Water Weaver female ever shared her nest for more than a night. If no human was mine, and a naga female sounded like a bad deal, I’d stay alone.

Yes, I’d made up my mind now. It would be empty, but I’d fill my days with traveling. I already had a reputation as the naga that roamed farther and wider than any other ever had. I’d trek across the Serqethos Desert to see what was beyond it, cross the Acheray Range, and trade with naga that might live there. Yes, that’s what I’d do. I did not need a mate, didn’t want a mate. It was as simple as that. Fate had decided for me, and now I was making peace with that choice.

The soft, rocking motion of the earth beneath my tail interrupted my thoughts. I jerked upright, rearing back on my tail as I scanned around me. That was the tremor of an earthquake; there was no doubt about it. I’d experienced an earthquake once, in the far west, while visiting a coastal village of silver naga. A tidal wave had come afterward, sweeping through the village until nothing was left but mud and broken homes.

I eyed the lower plains behind me, where the sky wreck had partially burrowed into the wet, unstable ground. Then I looked up at the mountains in the distance and winced when I saw how a second rocking wave of the earth dislodged a stone avalanche. It came thundering down, the sound reaching my sharp ears even across the vast distance still between me and the mountain. Sun Fang had an outpost on that mountain peak, I realized. That was not good. A tidal wave was not the same as an avalanche, but the result… just as devastating.

The shakes were getting worse, and trees were groaning, creaking, then toppling all around me. I had to make up my mind, and fast. Go back to the sky wreck and help with what was going to be massive devastation there, or hurry to that outpost in case there were survivors?

I was on a hillside, with a perfect view across the plains and the wetlands in the distance. It felt like a safe spot, and then suddenly it wasn’t. The ground split and rent open beneath my tail, and I was forced to fling myself to safety. For what felt like hours but was closer to minutes, I was so busy saving myself that I could spare no thoughts for the others.

When the ground finally stopped shaking, mud and dirt slid slowly back into place, but the landscape had irrevocably changed. Trees had toppled and splintered; some had been swallowed whole by fissures in the ground that had opened up. The hills looked like they’d been caught in that tidal wave I recalled, devastation without the water.

I had my body anchored around one tree that had managed to stand its ground. Slightly lopsided, the thick trunk had remained rooted in a chunk of earth that was remarkably calm. Calm was not the word I’d use to describe what had happened to the sky wreck and the plains it had rested on. Partially sunk, the massive ship looked like Serant had tried to eat it. A beast far bigger than the dragon had clawed the plains to pieces, dragging furrows and gullies big enough to perhaps become a permanent change to the land.

My sharp eyes saw a lot, like the palisade being gone entirely, or the way the dark entrance to the wreck had vanished under the dirt. I also spotted the dragon circling overhead, most of the reinforcements it was supposed to bring still clinging to its back. There was no sign of Corin anywhere, though, and I hoped that meant he’d withdrawn into the sky wreck. Hoped it was safer in there than it had been out here.

I had to withdraw the precious spyglass from my backpack to gaze at the hillside and plains further away and search for Thunder Rock and Sun Fang’s attack party. How had they fared? Unprotected by the sky ship’s metal hull or the safety of the dragon’s flight… The area they’d been in looked as devastated as the one I’d survived. That meant there was a good chance there were survivors, didn’t it?

I hesitated. Should I go to them to check for survivors? They had tried to mount yet another attack on the fallen skyship. As a Water Weaver male, we prided ourselves on being welcome everywhere we went, friends with every clan. That had once included Bitter Storm, even though they shunned all outsiders. Yet the males at the sky wreck, those were the ones I truly knew. With them, I’d shared countless meals and hunts, and they’d always made a place for me at any of their campfires.

I had to be very careful as I wound my way back down the hills toward the sky wreck. The ground was extremely treacherous and still very unstable in many places. One false move and I might find myself trapped in a hole impossible to climb out of. I had to double back twice when my path was blocked by a deep gully too wide to cross. Thus, it took me nearly an hour to cross a distance that would normally take ten minutes.

The dragon had already dropped off its riders, but it had retreated back into the sky to watch from a distance. I could only assume this was because the beast might be too heavy for the still, occasionally crumbling ground to support. Zsekhet might fear Sesethul could get trapped or injured if it stayed on the ground and an aftershock came. He’d be right. The land would take days to fully settle, and one massive tremor might not be the end of it yet.

“Hello!” I called out as I climbed out of a deep furrow I’d had no choice but to cross. This was, I was certain, the area where the naga had been when the earthquake struck. It was clearly the spot those on the dragon had also decided required a search for survivors. Already, I could tell they’d pulled a male from beneath the rubble. He was swearing, but at first glance appeared unscathed, despite being partially buried.

“Joxra, are you hurt?” I asked as I approached. “I came back in case you needed another pair of hands here…” I glanced about, but wasn’t sure who was supposed to be in charge right now. Regardless of leadership, males were already working closely together to begin digging out the entrance to the sky wreck.

Joxra shook off more of the dirt clinging to his red scales, his expression furious. “I’m fine! It’s Jasmine. Jasmine’s in here somewhere! We’ve got to find her!” I’d never seen the former Bitter Storm male so agitated before. His expression was so guilt-stricken that I wondered if he had something to do with her disappearance. Or perhaps she was his mate, and he was beside himself with concern.

“She wasn’t supposed to be here!” Joxra added, shaking off the hand of the Thunder Rock male holding him up. He twisted on his tail, then winced, subsiding back against Ezho’s still-proffered arm with another vicious curse. “It was just me and her who climbed down. It was her warning that got the dragon skybound in time, and the others all retreated to safety inside the sky wreck. We have to find her!”

I shifted uneasily on my tail and glanced around. With so many massive furrows and unstable holes, it was going to take a while to search them all. Worse… a small human female was unlikely to have survived this. I could tell from Ezho’s grim look that he thought the same as I did. “We are searching, Joxra, but you must rest. You’ve broken your tail in three places, brother. If you are not careful, you could become partially paralyzed…”

Joxra gave Ezho a look that was deadly. He cared, it appeared, very little for his own health right now. Ezho was correct, however: breaks in his tail could have devastating results if not healed by a Shaman soon. It was also apparent that Joxra was not going to settle until he was certain this human female, Jasmine, was found. One glance at the other naga hunters told me they had their hands full, likely as much for Joxra’s sake as for those trapped inside the sky wreck right now. If Corin was in there, he was as good as any Shaman and could potentially heal Joxra’s injuries in no time at all.

My eyes lifted higher, and I rose on my tail to glance into the distance, where I knew the Sun Fang and Thunder Rock males might be dealing with their own crisis. They did not need another pair of hands to dig here, and they seemed certain only this Jasmine was lost in the muck outside. Lost, and presumed dead. I could perhaps save another life or two if I headed for the attack party’s last location. No matter what I thought of their reason for attacking, I did not feel they deserved to die.

Then I looked back at Joxra and saw the plain distress on his face, as well as the agony he must have been feeling from his injuries—injuries he had been trying to hide so he could search for her personally, at any cost to himself. “I will search for her, Joxra. You can count on me.” The words had been spoken before I could fully consider the ramifications. It meant not helping the others in the hills. It meant staying here a little longer, again.

The way Joxra’s expression filled with relief made me feel good, though. It was exactly that kind of feeling that had enticed me to stay, or to come back again and again, to Haven. Working together with brothers, males of different clans, with scales of different colors, yet united all the same.

“You’d do that, Ekkire?” Joxra bit out through clenched teeth. The pain was definitely getting the best of him now. I helped Ezho lay him down, then watched as the former Thunder Rock male fussed over the former Bitter Storm male, trying to make him more comfortable. I locked eyes with Joxra and nodded.

“I will check the gullies and cracks for her presence. But I do not have her scent.” I rose higher on my tail to glance around and identify the best options. I suspected she’d been near Joxra when the quake started, and he confirmed it, so the starting point had to be where they’d dug Joxra from the muck. “Mud seems to have churned toward the hills and mountains when water welled up from an underground spring.” I indicated the spot and shuddered to think about what it must have been like, trapped in such churning, fast-flowing mud.

“If I find her, I will send a message,” I told him firmly. I eyed the mountains in the distance. “If not, I will continue on that way,” I said, pointing to the mountains. “There is a Sun Fang outpost there that must have been swept away by a rock avalanche. I will check on them for potential survivors next.” As Joxra had passed out as soon as I said, “If I find her,” I directed the last part at Ezho. He nodded in confirmation, and off I went.

My sense of loyalty to the naga at Haven was very satisfied by this choice. I was helping them, potentially still helping the Sun Fang people living at the outpost. Yet I avoided helping those who planned to attack Haven’s people, and the humans, directly. I’d search for this female, recover her body, and perhaps ease the healing of Joxra’s body by doing so. That was a worthwhile cause.

Chapter 2

Jasmine

“Damn it! Work, would you?” I snarled in frustration at the pair of twigs I was holding. Getting separated from the rest of the rescue party had not been part of the plan. Finding myself stuck in a gully ripped into the land by a recent earthquake was definitely not the plan either. I’d been trying to work my way out of the narrow rip in the earth for the past couple of hours. Separated from my bow and any supplies, I had to rely on anything I could find.

Eyeing the violet sky above me, what little I could see of it, I worried about the approaching night and the sting of winter it would bring. I worried even more about a potential aftershock. If the earth was rocked with another tremble, even one caused by damage from the first, this gully could collapse right on top of me. I had to get out, but with darkness rapidly approaching, I needed light too.

I was extremely lucky I hadn’t gotten more seriously injured during the quake. Black and blue, yes. Stiff as hell, also yes. Nothing was broken or bleeding, and that was a massive win I counted in my favor. I hoped the others at the crashed ship had been as lucky, but I feared the worst. Joxra had stood right next to me when the quake started, and the ground had opened up beneath my feet. I knew he’d thrown himself on top of me to protect me, and then we’d been ripped apart in the chaos.

When I woke a few hours ago, there’d been no sign of him anywhere. I’d looked as long as I could, and shouted for help, hoping those who’d been safe atop the dragon could hear or see me. Nothing, though, no response, not so much as a sound beyond the earth settling around me and the rush of muddy water at my feet.

I knew I was incredibly lucky to be alive and not buried under all that dirt rising on either side of me. I had also deduced that an underground well must have created some kind of muddy rush of water that had swept me through this newly opened gully. With no hint of the crashed ship visible in the sliver of sky I could see, I had to assume I’d been swept along quite some distance. No wonder they couldn’t find me.

Going back was not an option either; the water was still coming, and it was ice cold. I’d die of exposure, or get swept along by the current when it got stronger. The water also meant the gully walls would become less stable. No, the safest way out of this was to find a good spot to climb out, or to follow it—traveling away from the crashed ship—and hope it rose back to the plains at some point.

The sticks were too wet to make a fire with. I had to conclude that all too soon, which left me no choice but to keep going, for now. Slowly, then, because I sure as hell could not risk twisting my ankle. Moving would also keep my blood pumping and hasten the drying of my soggy, mud-covered clothes. The sticks were a commodity, though—even soggy—so I tucked them carefully into my belt as I walked, my eyes on the ground, scanning for anything else I could use and carefully watching the treacherous terrain.

“I need fire, shelter, then drinking water,” I muttered to myself. I listed all the things I knew about surviving outdoors with very little, and that was a long list. None of it was quite suited for an alien world like Serant, and none of it had prepared me for surviving an earthquake. I would, though, because I never took anything lying down. “A weapon would be good too,” I said to myself.

That was one of the first things I’d done when I’d woken in the hold of the crashed ship. I’d been surrounded by men and women condemned by the UAR for various reasons. I knew better than anyone how swiftly and harshly the United Alliance of Races judged people. No crime, big or small, escaped the only punishment they had: execution. I’d always believed it was a way for the UAR to control the population; now I knew better. They needed bodies to sell into slavery in other galaxies, like this one. Except this ship had crashed on Serant, which was not uncommon, I’d heard. Ships crashed here all the time. There were never any survivors, though, until lately.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered under my breath. Of all the shitty planets to crash on, I’d ended up on this one. At least I was alive, and I’d done my part, too. I’d helped Jolene gather as many of the vulnerable as possible and taught them how to protect themselves and each other. I’d never expected to see such a prime example of strength in numbers, but giving a dozen girls slings and rocks was enough to create a rain of stones that had scared off even the most hardened criminals.

Living in a world controlled by the UAR, every day had felt like survival, and I’d done so many things I wasn’t proud of just to make it through. Day by day, sometimes at the cost of others. Competition had been shockingly fierce in my field, and as a girl in a male-dominated world, I’d sometimes been forced to resort to very unsavory tactics, for me, to keep my job.

That’s perhaps why I’d wanted so badly to come back to the crashed ship and help more of the humans there. If I could just do another good deed, help another person or naga, prove that I was a valuable asset even though I had boobs, perhaps I’d never have to do that kind of thing again.

Darkness was falling rapidly now, and even though I was keeping in constant motion to stay warm, I began shivering. It wasn’t fully dark, though, which allowed me to keep up the pace as much as I could. A strange light pierced the sky on one side of the gully, something I’d never seen before. I wondered what it was, but only briefly. I had more pressing issues: the cold was beginning to set in, and I still hadn’t found a way out, or a way to make a fire so I could get warm.

As I walked, I’d gathered as many sticks and pieces of wood as I could find, but they were damp and had washed through this crevice the same way I had. They weren’t going to be any good for starting a fire, not without better supplies. Even my teeth were beginning to clack together now. I had to risk it, had to brave the darkness and pick up the pace for warmth. So far, the gully walls had been wet, slippery, and very unstable. I was pretty sure I had much farther to go before a suitable climbing spot came up.

I really didn’t want to die of exposure the first time I was out of sight of the naga hunters. That would suck, and it would just prove their point. No, I was going to come out on top, show I didn’t need anyone to survive out here, least of all a mate. Teeth chattering, I thought of the one topic that got me fired up right now: that whole mating situation.

I knew Zathar had all these rules in place to protect the unmated women from unwanted attention, but still… The expectations were there. Every single hunter was trying to convince the women to touch them to see if they were meant to be, every day. With more males showing up from time to time, especially now that more humans had been found.

It had not escaped my notice, either, that all the women from that first group who arrived here had been paired off. How could I trust that the whole glowing sigil thing was actually random chance, not something the guys controlled if they saw what they liked? How free to choose had any of those women been? Thinking about it was getting my blood pumping, but then I thought of the happy faces. I had to admit, even to myself, that they certainly looked in love, cared for. Heck, those mated guys doted on their mates even more than the unmated guys did on the single ladies. “Still don’t want one,” I said out loud.

The water at the bottom of the gully had trickled down to a tiny little stream, and I had to cross it when the bank on the other side seemed easier to walk. When was this crack going to end? I’d been walking for at least two hours now. Had this crack shot off toward the wet, soggy plains where the crashed ship had ended up, or up to higher ground? The hills, the mountains, and the forest? That had been the place the naga from Haven had used as their staging ground to rescue me and the others before. It was the kind of terrain I was certain would offer me the best chance at survival. Knowing my luck of late, though, that wasn’t happening.

“Female, do you need help?” a voice called out in the darkness. I stiffened, my head jerking up to pinpoint the source of whoever had spoken. Naga, I knew that right away, though I could understand him thanks to the update my translator implants had received. A male voice, deep and growly, but that was pretty much how all of them sounded.

There, high above me at the edge of the gully, safely on high ground, I saw his eyes glow green in the dark like a cat’s, but nothing else. Green… I racked my brain to try and remember what that meant. Wasn’t that Water Weaver? Those guys were all green, weren’t they? There weren’t many of those at Haven. One, in fact—Zeidon—but he was mated to Farah. That meant this guy was a complete stranger, a stranger who might not know what a human was, or feel the same drive to protect me the others all felt.

Still, if he was curious enough to get me out of this damn trench, that would even the odds. “Can you help me out of here?” I called up at him. “If you can toss down some rope, that would be grand.” His eyes blinked closed slowly, also very like a cat, then back open again. Oh… realization struck when he did not move. He couldn’t understand what I’d said; this was a one-way street.

This guy did not have translators like many of the trusted aspirants had—like Haven did. Which meant there was only one way he could ever understand what I said: if he was my mate. If he touched me, and his sigils lit up, that supposedly meant some kind of telepathic bond would allow us to understand one another.

That information was part of the talk Vera, Zathar’s mate, had given all of us when we’d arrived at Haven. There were five of us girls, as well as eight men. That had been three months ago. Then I’d heard it all again three days ago, when seven more girls had been rescued from the crashed ship—a rescue I’d been part of, and one I was proud to have pulled off with the group.

I began shaking more violently the longer I stood still, my armful of damp wood still clutched to my muddy chest. Did I want to convince him to get me out, and how was I going to do that if he didn’t understand UAR Common? With a sigh, I carefully put the wood down at my feet, and then I gestured up at him with my hands. “Pick me up, rope, come on, you know what I need! Get me out of here.” I mimed tossing a rope, I mimed climbing, and I felt like an idiot doing it. It was getting so much colder, too; it was beginning to seep into my bones. My fingers were growing stiff, my shaking growing slower, which was a bad sign, a very bad sign.

This was getting me nowhere. If I stood still any longer, I’d freeze to death. Bending down, I picked up the bits of wood I’d gathered for a fire and resumed walking. “Fuck you, then. I’ll find my own way out.” The green eyes blinked at me, and then they disappeared. I kept walking, but a hint of fear crawled down my spine. It was so wet down here; if he wasn’t going to help me out of this gully, I’d have to take the risk myself.

My eyes started scanning for the most likely spot, but it still looked no better than it had forty minutes ago. Then I still had a hint of daylight; now I could only see by the strange light coming from the left side of the gully. North, if I wasn’t mistaken. When I spotted a place where several roots stuck out of the steep, slippery muck, I decided this was as good as it was going to get.

I tucked the wood into the front of my coat, secured my belt, and shook out my hands. My hair was muddy, though mostly dry, and crunched as I pushed the strands behind my ears and out of the way. Yuck. It was a wonder he’d even recognized that I was female beneath all that mud. I doubted he would have been able to catch much of a scent, either.

“Here goes nothing,” I said to myself, and I curled a fist around the first bit of root I could reach, right above my head. I tested it very carefully to see if it could hold my weight, then pulled myself up and started to reach for the next, much smaller and thinner handhold. That one shifted, then broke, and I swore in frustration.

“Stand back, I’m tossing down the rope now,” the male voice called. This time, he was right above, at the top of the very edge I’d just attempted to climb. I slid back down, hand stinging as I released the one root that had held me. He’d come back! Or maybe he’d never left; he’d just needed to get his rope or something. He was watching me move, just a pair of blinking eyes, and as soon as I was clear of the muddy wall, he tossed his rope down toward me. The end landed with a splat in the muck at my feet.

I picked it up with stiff fingers, pulled on it to test that it was secure, and then considered the best way to ascend. Not with assistance from that muddy wall, that was certain. “Coming up!” I called out, and then I leaped, grabbed hold of the rope high above my head, and used a foot lock with my feet to secure my position. That allowed me to use my hands to grab higher on the rope before releasing the foot lock and twisting my body up to secure the same lock with my feet again, higher up.

This was not a technique easy for anyone to do; it required a lot of core body strength, but it was as familiar as breathing to me. It worked even when the rope and my boots were a little crusted with mud in places.

I had almost reached the top when a soft sound caught my attention. It was dangerous to pause when my body was this bruised, tired, and cold. Yet the soft, mewling noise pulled so poignantly at my heart that I couldn’t help myself. Too dark to see much beneath the slightly overhanging lip of the ground here, I was guided by sound alone.

Not scared of spiders, I still felt a little freaked out brushing my hand through the tendrils of roots sticking out of the muddy wall. I touched something warm and soft, and a pair of eyes blinked open, shimmering silver. A small sleara. I recognized those almond-shaped eyes immediately, as there were several of the cute little miniature dragons at Haven. My heart twisted in my chest because this one was very tiny, and clearly caught in the roots.

I worked quickly to free her, all one-handed because I could not risk losing my balance while standing on just the foot lock on the rope. Once I had her by the neck, I dragged her toward me, then tucked her into my already stuffed coat. She clung with sharp claws to my chest and the damp wood I’d scavenged. Good enough. With one last push of effort, I hauled myself up the rope the rest of the way.

My rescuer, a Water Weaver naga for sure, kept his distance, his tail coiling out of my way. He did not offer me a hand to assist me over the edge, not even a coil of his tail. I opened my mouth to say something about that, but then discovered he’d never secured his end of the rope to anything at all. He’d been holding the freaking end in his hands—and with it, my life. He was utterly mad!

“Are you crazy?” I exclaimed. “What if you dropped me? I could have plunged to my freaking death! Why didn’t you just tie the rope to a tree?” I glanced around, then discovered that most of the trees around us all leaned awkwardly one way or another, and many more had completely toppled. At least I now had one clear answer: the gully had led toward the hills and the mountain far in the distance.

My rescuer just blinked at me with big, emerald eyes, and he said absolutely nothing. The rope was pulled up, coiled in careful rolls, and secured to the side of the backpack he was carrying. “Are you hurt, female? You were not expected to survive. Joxra was very concerned for your well-being. I suggest you hurry back to the sky wreck.” He flung a hand along the gully, back the way I’d come. Wow, he couldn’t wait to be rid of me, could he?

At least that answered one thing: he did know of humans and Haven; he even knew Joxra had survived the earthquake. I was very relieved, but as much as I wanted to comply and hurry back, I was simply too cold and tired to attempt such a hike in the dark. There was no shortage of wood up here, though, including twigs and branches that might actually be dry enough for a good fire.

“Is Joxra okay?” I asked. “Anyone else hurt? That was a really bad earthquake.” Unsure how to get this across, I flapped my hand back toward where I assumed the crashed ship must be. “Joxra, Corin, Zsekhet?” I tried, hoping the names of the members of Haven I knew were supposed to be at the ship rang a bell. Something did move across his expression, but he was very hard to read.

My rescuer was an emerald green, but in the dark his hair seemed black. His eyes glowed like a cat’s when they caught the meager light, a bright emerald green that was extremely pretty. The rest of him was all dark shapes—far too many thick, muscled coils—and pointy bits sticking out that had to be weapons. If I thought I’d have more of an advantage up here compared to down in the gully, I was mistaken. This guy looked deadly.

“They are all fine. Only Joxra was injured. I was asked to find you.” He answered as if he were chewing on lemons as he said it, like the whole thing was distasteful. Well then, I guessed he didn’t like humans all that much, but at least he’d agreed to rescue me if I was alive, which probably meant he wasn’t going to kill me in my sleep. Or, you know, while we were awake either, because he definitely didn’t need the advantage of me sleeping to overpower me.

I eyed the terrain downhill, then appraised the state of my body. No, I was definitely at my limits; I wasn’t going anywhere tonight. I’d move away from the edge of this gully for safety, then focus on making a fire to get warm. Hugging my arms around my waist for warmth, I became aware of the burden I’d tucked into the front of my thick fur coat. Part of it was just twigs and wood I thought I might need to make a fire, and part of it was the tiny sleara. She had not made a sound, hadn’t even moved, and now I wondered if she was even alive.

I lifted the edge of my collar and peered inside, and a pair of very silver eyes blinked up at me. She looked terrified, so I lowered the fur back over her and decided to leave her for now. With the sleara secure, I turned and faced the woods. “I’m going to go that way to set up camp for the night,” I said, and then I walked off. Was he going to follow me? Doubtful.

Chapter 3

Ekkire

She was alive. It was a truth I struggled to wrap my head around as I watched her walk off into the forest. She was going the wrong way, even though I’d pointed clearly to where she should go. How was she alive? She should have been crushed by the rocks and dirt, or shattered by the rapid mudflow I’d followed down this gully. I’d crossed over to another one several times that now bisected the land to my left as well. Yet she’d ultimately been in the gully I’d deemed most likely. Most likely to have died in, yet here she was.

Stubbornly, she walked beneath listing trees and past toppled giants, oblivious to the direction she actually should have gone in. What was even more concerning, she was bulging oddly at the front in strange, lumpy shapes, and I was pretty sure I scented a sleara. I’d scented one when she’d paused right at the top of the rope. I had feared she was about to fall and braced myself to snatch her up with my tail. She’d proven oddly adept at climbing until then. Now I realized she might have found a wounded sleara. One who had been victim to the same mud wash she’d been.

Humans, I thought as I followed her silently through the trees, were so soft-hearted. It was what drew my brethren to them, that softness, that kindness our own females had forgotten how to feel. At Haven, there were several pet sleara, as well as two Ayala. Although I had to admit right away that some of those animals were courtesy of my Water Weaver brother, Zeidon. He was even more soft-hearted when it came to animals, always taking in strays and caring for them. Srazz, though—his Ayala friend—was sort of fun to have around. Both Srazz and Zeidon could take care of themselves, but this human and her injured sleara? Doubtful.

I sped up a little when I discovered she’d reached a clearing sheltered on one side by a large boulder. It was the perfect place for a Slithrazer to lie in wait, and she was the perfect bite-sized morsel for such a predator. I did not have time for this, and I’d never been the kind of male who was good at watching younglings. My job should have been over when I found her, but since she was alive, it now felt like my responsibility to make sure she stayed that way until she was back with the Haven hunters.

“Wait!” I began to call out, but to my surprise she slowed, dropping into a crouch and craning her head around carefully to search for danger. I discovered she had not been idle while walking, either; she’d gathered rocks. Now she hurled them with precision into various dense spots of underbrush, throwing them hard, too, so they crashed into the bushes with a lot of noise. It was a good tactic to startle a predator out of hiding; most—Slithrazer included—preferred to avoid a fight.

Sitting back, my hands tight around the handle of my trident, I observed what she would do next. Once she’d thrown all her rocks in exactly the spots where I’d have worried a predator was hiding, she rose. She wasn’t done, though. She’d picked up a good-sized branch and went around poking under rocks and slapping more bushes to really ensure it was safe. Then she began gathering wood for a fire.

Even more impressive: though her hands were stiff and clumsy, she knew how to make fire without the aid of a fire starter. It took her a long time, and she was swearing in her strange, alien language as she did it. She’d gathered all the right supplies: small twigs, bigger branches, the fluffy, combustible interior of an early spring flower. She’d crafted a fire bow with a bit of woven string from grass she’d harvested, and two twigs.

I told myself that if she could light that fire on her own, my responsibilities ended here. She knew how to take care of herself far better than I’d expected. Which meant that perhaps she was not lost despite my directions; she’d just decided to make camp first. Since it was dark, and humans had terrible vision in the dark, that made sense. Granted, it wasn’t nearly so dark as it should be tonight. A strange, bright light came from the north, rising like a pillar into the sky. It made me very uneasy, that light, but it was also very far away, so there was very little I could do about it. It was a matter for the Shamans.

Eventually she crowed in triumph, her nose wrinkling in a way that was unexpectedly cute. The fire began blazing, and she was very careful to feed the flames until she had a decent campfire going. Placing it near the rock wall, she’d also cleverly ensured she was out of the wind, and the stone, heated by her flames, would radiate warmth onto her back later in the night. As she set about making camp with nearly no supplies at all, I had to begrudgingly admit that she’d done it exactly as I would have.

Yet I still found myself unable to slip away in the dark. Was my task truly over now? I couldn’t decide, and something else niggled at the back of my head. It would be easier to ignore it after I’d made up my mind multiple times and finally left Haven. Easier, but it would gnaw at me, I knew that too. It would always remain an open question, a what if? She could be my mate… This female, her scent was still covered by the mud from the earthquake. Though I had caught hints of it that seemed familiar. She had to have been at Haven before, while I was there. Had I somehow missed her when I’d checked each female with a slight, unobtrusive touch?

She looked different in the firelight, her features still obscured by the mud she’d been dragged through. I was pretty sure I’d inventoried every color humans could come in by now, which was far less than the many naga I’d encountered on my travels. Yet this female, she appeared to have pink hair. Pink. It hung by her left temple in a big, muddy hank, and it tempted me to reach out and check if it was real.

“Well...areyougoingtocomeoverandsharemyfire? Orareyougoingtosulkinthetreesallnight?” Her words were clearly directed at me, though I could not understand them. They clung together in lyrical waves of sound, as if she were singing and talking at the same time. It was impossible to decipher even individual words, yet I knew she was inviting me to join her anyway. Not just that, she was calmly letting me know she was aware of my presence. I was impressed.

I approached her fire slowly, my mind still stuck on the potential that could be, wondering if I was willing to reach out and check. No, I decided. I’d rather not know. The call of the wild was too strong for me, not like it was for Zeidon, who loved tinkering and collecting too much to travel extensively. A human mate would bind me to Haven, to one place, and I could not let that happen.

Circling around, I checked for predators anyway, not because I thought she’d done a bad job, it was simply force of habit. I settled down across the fire from her on my coils a moment later, my eyes on the mud-crusted lines of her face. She was soft, round, scaleless. She also appeared to be angry, but I was never sure about human expressions. “What? Didn’tthinkI’ddoneagoodjob?” she said. Not so lyrical now; her tone had gotten clipped and short.

Angry, I was certain of it, but since I had done nothing wrong, she must be angry at her muddy state, not at me. It would be highly uncomfortable to be so muddy, especially when wearing coverings. To avoid getting that way, I regularly oiled my scales so dirt slid right off. It was a basic grooming ritual all younglings were taught, and now I wondered if perhaps humans had failed to learn it. Should I offer her my flask of oil? Not before she’d cleaned up, I decided.

Sliding my backpack from my shoulders, I pulled it in front of me and started going through my supplies. I’d gathered fibers to create more rope along the way today, certain I’d need it in the mountains and in case there were Sun Fang survivors near their outpost. Besides a lot of rope, I also carried furs for sleeping and plenty of food. My waterskin was freshly filled, but it would hardly be enough to clean all of her. There used to be a spring nearby; I wondered if it was still there or if it had been destroyed by the earthquake.

I tossed her the waterskin, letting it sail across the fire in a careless arc. She caught it, her fingers already moving less stiffly as she undid the clasp and took a drink. “Thanks,” she said, not as angry as before. I took that one word to mean she was grateful, thanking me, and I nodded. Once she’d drunk her fill, I offered her a scrap of fabric woven by the females of my clan.

She took that too, but she was very conservative with the water, dipping only a tiny portion of the cloth in it. Not to clean, though at first it looked that way. Lifting the stiff collar of her upper covering, she lowered it inside, toward those temptingly soft mounds most humans had. A very tiny white snout appeared, lapping rapidly at the wet cloth. I swore, of course! She was already pandering to the little creature she’d found, the one she’d risked her fragile neck for by hanging from the rope earlier. Humans… they had no sense!

Rising, I began restlessly pacing, uncertain what to do. Torn again with the desire to leave, and this inexplicable need to stay and make sure she was safe. She didn’t need me, I told myself. Clearly, she didn’t because she’d made a fire and properly secured her campground. She didn’t need help, even if she was as irrational as all the others when it came to small, useless animals. I could send a signal to the naga at the sky wreck, and they’d retrieve her. She’d be fine… There were still others the earthquake might have injured, or worse, who could be in need of my help right now.

I sat back down on my coils, fascinated when she finally began using a tiny portion of the water to clean her face. What was revealed were definitely features I had not seen before. Her skin was a soft cream color, her eyes a warm brown with a velvet sort of texture, similar to some of the richer fabrics my people produced. Her chin was narrow and pointed, her nose a delicate slope, and her eyebrows tiny dark arches. Of course, this was when fate decided to show me a human face far more tempting than any of the others I’d seen before. Just as I’d decided I didn’t want a human mate, or was it that very choice that made her seem more tempting?

She was talking, but the lyrical sounds were just music, and I could not follow anything she said. It was clear that, as spellbound as she had me, she had the same effect on the sleara she’d rescued. A very small female juvenile from the looks of it, a rare, shimmering white too. Not an easy color out here in the wild, one that would probably see her get eaten now that all the snow had melted. This female finally clambered out of the human’s shirt to look around. She crouched low in the human’s lap, sniffing at the fire and looking at the human as she crooned things at the creature.

When the human began pulling sticks and bits of wood out of the fur covering she wore, I raised a nubbed brow in surprise. What had she been carrying those around for? The sleara looked as confused as I felt, and she tossed the wood carelessly aside. The little creature pounced, seeming to think it was a game, white wings quivering along its tiny back as it attempted to drag the biggest stick back to the human. “Youwantoplayfetch?” my human laughed, and she tossed the stick again, much to the sleara’s delight. I reared a little higher on my tail and watched this unfold, certain both of them had lost their minds.

Perhaps it was hunger; they were both so starved they’d gone crazy. I pulled one of my favorite types of ration out of my pack and offered it across the fire to the human. The leaf-folded package was heavy from the fat-rich cake filled with grains, dried fruits, nuts, and spices. I liked it because it was sweet and it packed a lot of energy, but most hunters preferred a more meat-heavy variety. I watched tensely as she took it, clearly recognizing what I had offered her. Her nibble was tentative, then clearly delighted; even I could recognize that. “Thanks, thisisgreat,” she said around a mouthful. That word again; it had to mean thank you.

Then she broke off a piece and offered it to the sleara. The creature sniffed it, nibbled, and then pulled up her nose and pounced on the stick again instead. Oh great, it only ate fresh meat, did it? Some sleara were pickier than others… One with scales like fresh snow certainly looked like she came with demands.

I heaved myself upright, then very demonstratively placed my pack by the fire. I gave her a warning look, then turned to the sleara, who’d shaken all her previous fears and was worrying the stick with her tiny teeth as if she were a ferocious slithrazer, or perhaps even a rakworm. “Stay out of my pack. I will fetch you proper food.”

Then I slipped into the trees with several tasks in mind: check the water source and get more water for the human, hunt fresh game to feed the sleara, and send a message to the hunters at the sky wreck to tell them the human was alive. After that, I assured myself, my responsibilities ended, and I was free to head toward the destroyed outpost to rescue possible Sun Fang survivors.

Plans, they never worked out the way you wanted, did they?

Chapter 4

Jasmine

This was new. I chewed thoughtfully on what had to be the tastiest ration bar I’d had to date on this planet, perhaps ever. It wasn’t quite chocolate, but boy was is it good. He’d put all kinds of nuts and fruit in it, but also something that definitely carried the bar almost into candy bar territory. Sweet, but not too sweet. As far as I knew, the naga didn’t enjoy or even taste sweet all that much. I also knew the hunters prepared their own food and rations for hunting and traveling, so this had to be this guy’s special blend. It revealed something about him but I wasn’t quite sure what yet. Perhaps simply that he had different taste buds than his buddies.

“Now what?” I asked the miniature dragon still gnawing on one of my damp sticks from the gully. I’d been trying to toss them now that I had drier wood, a lot of it, to pick from. It looked like the little beastie had decided they were hers now. That was a thing, if I recalled. Both Kiwi and Buzz liked to collect things for their nests back at Haven. Though Buzz seemed to like discarded cables (or sometimes not quite discarded, yet) and Kiwi was very fond of soft grass and glittering stones, especially green ones. I guessed this one liked sticks…

“I can’t believe he’s gone to get food, and I’m pretty sure it’s food for you,” I said to the little dragon. She paused mid-gnaw to raise her swirling mercury eyes toward my face, cocked her head, and then chirped. That definitely said something about him, didn’t it? He was so grumpy, and I could tell that with certainty now that I’d seen his face in the light of the fire. Yet he’d gone out to hunt fresh meat for the sleara so she wouldn’t be hungry. I hadn’t asked him to; it hadn’t even crossed my mind. He’d just done it… it was sweet.

Not so sweet was the patronizing way he’d double-checked that the camp location was safe before he approached, or the way he’d watched me from the bushes, thinking I didn’t know he was there. He was just like the others, convinced I couldn’t take care of myself out here. Granted, he had found me in the sorriest-looking state I could ever recall being in. I was a bedraggled, soggy, and extremely muddy mess, and that was just what I looked like right now. Beneath my clothing, I knew I was black and blue, my muscles stiff and sore, and though I was warming up, I was still too cold.

At least things had begun looking up. If I could keep my eyes open long enough, I might actually make it through the night. With a full belly, I was definitely beginning to feel sluggish and drowsy. Faintly, I worried these could also be signs I had a concussion. I’d been out cold for some time while the raging mud wash had carried me along. By some miracle, I hadn’t drowned, but I must have hit my head on something. I gingerly felt along the back of my skull, through my hair, but the dry mud made my hair stiff and bumps hard to discover. Frankly, my entire head ached, so going simply by where it hurt wasn’t helping me narrow it down.

I rose, joints creaking, and rolled my shoulders, shaking out my legs. “First, I need an ample supply of wood to get through the night. Then, better shelter so I don’t freeze to death.” I set out to do that, but I found myself glancing at the light in the sky in the distance. That was very concerning, that beam of light blazing toward the sky. North of me were wetlands, hills, and, I was pretty sure, the Serqethos Desert, until far beyond that, the North Pole. Neither the desert nor the icecap of this world were particularly suited for habitation, so what was that?

I’d finished gathering the wood and begun cutting down branches already sprouting leaves this early in spring to lie on. That’s when he returned. Silent as a wraith, I had to admit that his sudden appearance did startle me a little. He was so big, too, compared to me, and his tail meant he made very different noises in the grass than a human or other two-legged creature might.

“I have returned,” he stated, holding a pair of feathered birds aloft, tied together with string at the feet. Instantly, the tiny sleara lifted her ivory head and sniffed eagerly. I eyed the birds, which were a little skinny after the long, cold winter. The pair definitely wasn’t enough to feed all three of us, but it was too much for just the sleara.

“Thank you,” I said, dropping my leafy branches on the ground by the fire. I saw his eyes dart to them, their eerie, slitted pupils contracting. He was probably thinking I was an idiot, and that those weren’t suitable for burning unless I wanted a whole lot of smoke. He couldn’t understand me, so I wasn’t going to explain my actions to him. It would be a waste of time.

He freed one of the skinny birds and offered it to the sleara whole. The bird, though thin after a cold winter, was easily as big as the tiny dragon. She did not seem to have an issue with this, eagerly pouncing and digging into the bird’s softer belly with sharp teeth. I winced, seeing too much meat go to waste when resources were tight. Half that bird still would have made a very good breakfast for me, but not after the sleara had her way with it. She was not a clean eater, but thankfully she’d come to the naga’s side of the fire to feed. My sleeping spot remained clean, or would, if I could get rid of more of the stupid mud.

Then I reconsidered. As much as it sucked, all that mud had dried on me by the fire, and it was adding a layer of insulation. It was spring, but you wouldn’t know it from the way the temperatures had dropped now that it was dark. To survive, I wasn’t too bothered about being dirty. I changed my mind when my persistent naga companion began pulling furs out of his backpack. Thick, lush, and definitely very warm. I looked at them, but I wasn’t going to ask. No way.

“Finish building your nest, female. Then you must wash, or these furs will get dirty,” he said, and he shook the biggest one enticingly. “I know you can understand me,” he added. The fur rippled, and the warm smell of male, spice, and leather drifted my way. Oh fuck, that was probably what he smelled like, and I hated how much I liked the scent. That hadn’t happened yet, I’d been so incredibly indifferent to every guy I’d met out here. I didn’t need to find him attractive, even if it was simply his scent.

I picked up the waterskin he’d handed me before and jiggled it. “It would be a waste of water; there’s just too much mud, and nothing clean to change into.” He stared at me, his emerald eyes piercing from across the fire. I could see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to figure out what I’d said. His hands were busy, and so was his tail. While he stared, he’d folded the furs across the top of his backpack, and his tail was busy plucking feathers from the second bird.

“There is no shortage of water,” he said eventually, cocking his head. “I checked when I hunted; the nearby spring has survived the earthquake and grown into a sizable stream. You can empty the waterskin, and I will refill it.” Well, wasn’t that generous of him? I wasn’t sure why I was feeling so hostile; I’d had no problem working together with the other hunters before. They had treated me with respect, though I couldn’t help but feel like I had a whole lot to prove.

This guy? He got under my skin so fast, and he wasn’t even doing anything bad, not at first glance. Perhaps it was the way he kept staring that unnerved me. Injured and exhausted, I really wasn’t at my best to tangle with a stranger who couldn’t understand me. He seemed quite insistent that I clean up, too, trying to entice me with the furs to do it. Was that a ploy to get me naked? To get a glimpse of human skin? It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been expected to put on a show—or more—to please whoever I was with.

Usually, it had been clients I was supposed to give the wilderness experience of a lifetime, and they thought I came with the price. That had been a matter of survival, and this was hardly different, was it? The bottom line was, I could probably tough it out for a night in muddy clothes with just the fire for warmth. One night, and then I could hike downhill to where the crashed ship was and get dry clothes and furs from the hunters there with absolutely zero strings attached…

“Wash, human,” he insisted again. The tip of his long, green tail coiled around the fire and jabbed at the waterskin. “Take off your clothing, wash, and then warm yourself with my furs. The Serant night will get much colder still.” It was the threat that the temperature was going to keep plummeting that convinced me the furs were my best option. I could be stubborn about this, but was gambling with the temperatures a risk I wanted to take? He wanted a show? Well, I’d give him one then, damn it. He could ogle this battered and bruised curiosity all he wanted, but I’d cut off his hands if he tried to touch.

With a huff, I stepped closer to the fire, and then I began stripping the dirty, muddy clothes from my body. I was sore, scratched up in some places, and already turning blue in far too many parts of my body. It was not a pretty sight, and maybe that would put him off so he’d leave me the fuck alone. The sooner he got the message that I wasn’t interested in being his mate, the better.

I started with the stiff, crusted laces on my boots. Once I’d kicked those off, I undid my belt and dropped it on the ground with a thud. I did not like being that far away from my knife, but the fact was, it hardly mattered. A small pocket knife wasn’t a defense against a full-grown naga male with scales like armor. It wouldn’t do much against the predators out here either, like the Slithrazers I’d been told hunted in these parts.

My jacket was torn at the hem, made from thick leather the hunters had brought me, and stitched crudely together by my own hands. It was the warmest article of clothing I had, but it looked dirty beyond salvation. My outer layers came off with difficulty, but the inner clothes were less stained. My undershirt was the one I’d worn during my “execution” by the UAR: thin white fabric that clung wetly to my curves as I pulled it over my head. The sports bra beneath also had to go, and I yanked the zipper at the front down with a hiss. Fury danced through my veins so hot I did not feel the cold.

Raising my eyes to him, I thought I’d find him staring, but he was gone. When I’d started, he’d been on the other side of the fire, plucking his kill and preparing to roast it over my fire. Now, only the little sleara was still chewing away on a bone, curled up in the spot beside the backpack he’d abandoned. Confused, I stared, then turned my head and searched the dark forest around me. No sign, he was just gone…

Chapter 5

Ekkire

She was angry. I was beginning to recognize that emotion on her smudged face. She wore it often. Angry to get clean? Angry about being warm? This female made absolutely no sense at all; it was extremely frustrating. For the first time, I wondered if I shouldn’t have gotten those strange devices that allowed a male to understand humans when unmated. It had seemed pointless, and the supply was limited. There were other males more eager for the chance.

Why did she not want to get clean? Surely she understood that getting into the warm furs I offered was her best chance to get through the cold night? I’d begun to remember how fragile humans were, and they were definitely not as capable of resisting the cold as a naga was. I’d actually shed my tunic since the thaw had set in, because I was too warm otherwise. A night without furs was not an issue either; I wasn’t planning to sleep. She, however, looked like she needed every bit of rest and heat she could get.

There was so much fury in her movements, her glare, when she began taking her strange foot coverings off. I actually withdrew, trying to give her space. Then I considered that her clothing needed to be cleaned urgently. My tunic, the one I didn’t need, she could wear that for now. I pulled it out of my backpack and set it atop the furs so she could easily grab it.

Then I looked up, and that was a mistake. A huge mistake. She was nearly bare, her lower coverings almost all gone, as well as the large upper furs she’d worn that had concealed much of her shape. By the sacred streams and all else that a Water Weaver male held dear… she was beautiful. It was my first time seeing a human bare, but not my first time being able to fully appreciate their form. I’d come to Haven last year, before the winter, and seen many of the humans dressed in formfitting tunics and leg coverings. Their shapes obvious, varied, and all enticing in their own way. None of them compared to what this female looked like without her coverings. None.

I jerked back, nearly crushing the sleara with a carelessly placed coil of my tail. I hadn’t meant to look and intrude on her privacy, either; it was an accident, an instinctive sort of glance when I knew better. Damn it, I’d decided there was no mate for me at all, human or naga. I did not need to have this temptation engraved on my brain, there to stay forever.

Her skin was soft and pale, but in many places sported shocking splotches of color. Dark blue, purple, red, I’d never seen a human look that varied. Her hips were small but curvy, her legs sleek lines, and her feet shockingly tiny for appendages that were supposed to keep her upright when walking. Look away, damn it, look away! This was wrong, and I was beginning to understand her fury, yet my eyes were glued to her shape.

The jacket was gone, revealing a trim belly outlined by the wet fabric of her shirt. White, see-through, it outlined the sweet curve of her breasts. I was despicable for staring, and with a horrified, furious snarl, I spun away and retreated. Something was happening inside of me that had never happened before: my cock stirred in its pouch. It grew painfully hard and pressed against my slit, eager to extrude. This was a response I was familiar with, but never this fierce, and never in response to a female.

Aching, I raced blindly into the tumbled forest, throwing my body over fallen trees and around listing trunks without care for my safety. I raced through the forest as if chased by beasts, but it was only the wildly churning thoughts in my own mind that urged me to put distance between her and me. What I’d done was wrong, and this all-powerful attraction had to end. I had decided I could not take a mate; she, or the offspring that followed such a liaison, would forever alter my life—pin me down. I wanted it anyway.

At the edge of the gully from which I’d pulled her, I came to a stop, nearly sliding over the slick edge into the darkness below. My chest heaved like bellows, cold air burning into my lungs, and hot air expelling in great clouds of steam in front of my face. I had not raced so heedlessly through a forest since I was a youngling, driving my father mad with my passion to explore. Then, it had been excitement, the thrill of a hunt, or a new discovery waiting around the river bend. Tonight, I had rushed away with such speed, driven by fear and shame and powerful desire.

I did not even know her name. I could have asked for it, since she would have understood the question. She could have told me, and I could have told her mine, but I didn’t. I thought keeping her nameless would make it easier to keep seeing her as a task—a burden, a delay—until I could race headlong into the mountains to save any potential Sun Fang injured at the outpost.

The gully had begun churning with more water, and it chilled me when I saw it. Cooling my passion, I considered what might have happened had I not found her earlier. The rising water would have swept her away, and she would never have made it up any of the gully walls without assistance. She had been quick with the rope, clever in the way she’d used her feet and hands to climb. She would not have been fast enough had she remained down there to get out of the path of this rushing floodwater.

I lifted my head, then turned my gaze toward the unnatural light to the north. Below that, deep in the darkness on the grassy plains, the sky wreck and the Haven naga remained. With the dragon there, I knew they would be capable of holding back any force from Thunder Rock or Sun Fang. That was where my human would be safe once she’d recovered enough to make the trek back. Now though…

My mind flashed with images of her pale, in places strangely mottled, skin. So soft, so cold, so vulnerable. She was alone by that fire; the sleara hardly counted as protection. Though a Slithrazer on its own was unlikely to approach, the quake had changed the landscape. I could not be certain she was safe.

My body had already decided for me, moving before I’d come to the only conclusion I could make: I had to go back. As despicable as my reaction to her vulnerable, bare state had been, she was safer in my presence. It was my duty to see to her safety until she could be returned to Haven’s hunters. Once back, I needed to have a word with them anyway. Whoever had thought to bring her to such a dangerous place deserved to have some sense knocked into their thick skulls. Was it Zsekhet? Joxra? I doubted it was Zathar; he was a good, wise leader.

The forest was beginning to grow darker, though it did not seem like the light in the north was dimming. A cloud layer had covered the stars and the distant moon. There was still plenty of light to see by, to retrace the tracks I’d made in my earlier haste. I erased them as I went with careful yet furious precision. My mind conjured up all the reasons this camp should remain obscure. The firelight was a beacon that would be visible even from afar, especially with so many trees uprooted. There were so many threats for a human: slithrazer, Sun Fang, Thunder Rock, even the smaller predators might try to take a bite out of her in these circumstances.

My heart was pounding, not from exertion, but from eagerness to see her again. I was thinking of all the things I should say upon my return, but I’d never been good with words. You didn’t have to be when most of your life was spent alone. I halted at the edge of the fire’s light, all words dying on my tongue. She was asleep.

After washing, I discovered she’d undergone a transformation. Her hair was not brown but black as night, with one long lock a bright, luminous pink. Her face was smooth and round, chin and nose delicate and soft. No scales hardened her features, and her expression was almost… sweet in repose. Long black lashes fanned against the upper slopes of her cheeks in black crescents. Her mouth was pink, and also temptingly soft. Only a mark on her temple interrupted the smooth line of flesh: a scrape of dried blood. A cut through fragile skin.

So close had she come to death that morning, but she’d survived. Safe and sound, so she could return to Joxra and the others. Now I wondered once again: was Joxra her mate? Had I missed that information in my rush to leave Haven? It would explain why he was so anxious, so careless of his terrible wounds, to go find her. It was what I would do if she were mine. The twisting, strange feeling in my gut was something I couldn’t explain. It swept through me, catching me by surprise in the same way my shocking lust for her earlier had. If she was Joxra’s, I had to stay away, and I could never let desire sweep through me again as it had earlier.

It was better if I looked away, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking. She was curled up tightly in the furs I’d laid out for her. Her body was small atop only the tiniest of nests she’d created with fresh branches and leaves, as well as many handfuls of grass. The little sleara had curled up against her chest, a tiny white snout peeking out at the top of the furs. My gaze snagged on the shoulder that was visible at the edge, clad in the far too large tunic I’d worn when the winter cold had gotten too much for me. A primal sense of satisfaction rose inside me that I could not ignore, no matter how hard I tried. She was wearing my clothes, lying in my furs, and she was under my watch right now.

I felt so conflicted I almost left again, but I couldn’t do that; it would leave her unprotected. Settling onto my coils, I prepared for a long watch instead. I’d make sure she was safe, ready to make the trek back to the sky wreck in the morning. While I waited, I’d check my supplies and eat the second bird I’d caught earlier.

By the time morning came and she began to stir, I’d firmly decided on my next course of action: see her off, leave for the Sun Fang outpost, and never think of her again. To make sure I could see her off guilt-free, I’d washed her clothing and made sure it had dried by the fire I’d kept well-fed all night. I’d also crafted her a pouch and filled it with my spare waterskin and all the rations I could spare. My most arduous task that night had been crafting a bow she could use. I’d discovered a quiver with arrows among her discarded clothing, but not the bow. It was very hard to correctly craft a weapon when I did not know her strength, but I thought I’d done all right.

Her eyes were still that improbably velvet brown when she opened them; the sight took my breath away. She blinked sleepily, then stretched with a groan. The sleara was dislodged from her chest and chirped indignantly with a very distinct, “Chirp kee kee!” Its narrow head sniffed and pale whiskers wiggled while its softer, round ears twitched back and to the side. Its eyes swirled silver, then softened as the chirp turned excited. I realized that, like me, the sleara had recognized Jasmine’s face and was happy to see it.

“Oh,” she groaned again, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes, her pink hair tangling with her fingers. “Fuck, Ihurt.” I did not know what that meant either, but she rose to a sitting position and shifted to cradle the small animal against her bosom. “Damn, baby, youresoftasapeach. Ithoughtyouwereadragon! Youreallfuzzy. WhatshouldIcallyou? Peach? Moon?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine, finally acknowledging my presence. When she spoke again, it felt like she was talking directly to me. “Oh, Iknow…” Her head lowered, lashes shuttering her extraordinary eyes, and her cheeks began to grow a soft pink. “WhatdoyouthinkofDove? Youreprettylikeadove!” Her eyes flicked to the pile of sticks next to the furs, “andyouliketobuildanesttoo.”

I’d never wanted to understand a human as badly as I did then. She crooned at the sleara, and the little creature drank up those words with purrs and chirps, draping her small body in the female’s hands and shamelessly begging for a petting. A petting she received. “Youlikethat? Okay, Dove, itis.”

My chest ached, and my tail tingled from the base of my spine all the way down to the tip. It ached, I realized, to reach out and touch her. To answer the question burning in my mind: was she mine? No, she was Joxra’s, I firmly told myself, shifting away slowly. She was taken, and I needed to get her back to her injured mate, her badly injured mate.

Chapter 6

Jasmine

I cradled little Dove to my chest and pretended I wasn’t all flustered to discover he was still here. What did you say to a naga stranger in the morning? Especially after I’d stripped for him and he’d left me all confused and mad. Had he watched or not? I still didn’t know, and it was disturbing to discover I was mildly disappointed at the thought that he hadn’t watched at all. He was certainly watching me now, his emerald eyes locked on my face like I held all the answers in the universe. It was intense. I’d never been looked at like that before.

“Well, uh, morning, I guess?” I said, and I slid the furs off my legs to inspect the damage now that I had more light. It was much later than I’d planned to wake; the violet Serant sun had already risen well above the trees. The fire was also still blazing, and there was only one answer to why that was: he’d fed it through the night. I knew very well he didn’t need those flames to stay warm himself; he’d done that for me.

He huffed, a deep, throaty sort of noise in response to my greeting. Then he shifted back on his coils so rapidly I thought he’d burned himself. I shifted to my knees, my hand reaching for a knife on a belt I wasn’t wearing. There was nothing around us that could have alarmed him, I concluded, as I quickly scanned the forest. His eyes were huge, his expression furious as he turned away. Had I… offended him?

I glanced back down, finally getting a look at my bare legs. There were bruises and scrapes everywhere; I was a mess, but I wasn’t indecent with the fur tunic hanging down to my knees. I was pretty sure most naga females wore less. I only had one example to base that on, however. Sazzie only wore a midriff-baring top, and sometimes a cloak when it was snowing. What was his problem? Was this what had happened last night too? Clearly, I’d completely misunderstood his intentions when he insisted I wash and undress. Now I felt bad for judging him so harshly.

“It’s okay,” I said to him, waving my hand in what I hoped was a calming manner. Those bright eyes had narrowed and were definitely locked on my legs, his serpentine body coiled tight and upraised, like he was poised to strike. My skin broke out in goosebumps as I considered that. This was the gaze of a predator, but I’d never been easy prey. Damned if I’d let him make me feel that way after all I’d been through.

I opted for the “he’s a skittish horse, not a dangerous lion about to strike” approach, shifting the fur back over my lap and placing Dove safely behind me. “It’s okay, thanks for the furs and the tunic, by the way…” I made my voice soft and gentle, and my expression non-confrontational. Eyes on his chest, not his face; his very massive, muscular green chest. He swayed on his tail, ever so slowly, as if he were torn between moving closer and moving away.

“I washed your clothes,” he snarled, and that really was a snarl, so furious and grumpy that the words flung through the air like projectiles. It was a good thing I’d grown thick skin over the years; you had to when dealing with the jerks I had. The statement made me flick my eyes down to the campfire and the supplies scattered around it. My clothes… He was right. They lay drying on the grass by the fire, from socks to coat, to panties and boots. He’d cleaned all of it. Even my self-made quiver and arrows had been freed of any mud and carefully placed next to the furs I was sitting in.

Part of me wanted to bristle with annoyance that he’d taken care of me, as if that were a slight against my own abilities. The bigger part of me was incredibly grateful. It would have been horrible to have to put muddy clothes back on today. I’d have had no choice, it was spring, but spring didn’t mean warm. I’d need pants and boots, very badly. Silent, I pulled the nearby pants toward me and fingered the dry fabric. I’d rescued the cotton leggings from my execution as an extra layer, but I’d crafted crude leggings from leather to go over them.

Leather, I knew, got very stiff when it had been wet and allowed to dry without proper care, especially when near a heat source. It also lost its shape when drying. Though it was tempting to think it was different with alien leather, I knew better. I’d already worked with the stuff for months at this point, and that had included teaching Cosima to rectify her mistakes. No, this had taken him a lot of effort.

“What did you do? How?” I asked as I stroked my hand over the smooth leather of my leggings. Soft as ever, perhaps even softer than before my mud bath yesterday, and that shouldn’t be possible. The only noticeable change was a shift in color. They’d gone from a dark grayish lavender to this beautiful deep red-tan, and I had no idea Serant leather could get that hue.

He couldn’t understand me, but he must have deduced what I’d said from the way my attention had gone to the clothes. He lowered himself on his tail and moved a little closer, the tip flicking through the air and briefly yanking my eyes toward it. Had we touched yet? I didn’t recall, but probably not. I should do that soon and exclude him as my mate, but I was oddly hesitant to do so. He seemed to hold himself so distant, like he didn’t want to risk touching me at all.

“I wiped the mud off with absorbent moss,” he said, pointing at the thick gray covering of alien plants on the side of a nearby tree. “Then I worked it to stay supple and oiled it to restore its texture. It has stained the leather, but that is better than wearing leather stiff as bark, yes?” His face held stern lines, the brows ridged and sharp over his eyes, but his expression briefly softened into something very earnest.

“Thank you,” I said to him, meaning it. He must have invested hours in the task, and he’d done a marvelous job. Even the fur on my coat was still silky and warm. It was a small miracle, and it would make my journey back down to the crashed ship so much easier today. Even if it was a little awkward to realize he’d washed my panties and sports bra, too. They were lying prominently displayed on a rock by the fire, right between the two of us.

“Sssank yousss?” he said. “This means you are pleased?” My belly twisted, warmth spreading through me. He looked immensely satisfied as he asked the question, and somehow I found that cute. Cute that he’d asked me that, and made the attempt to speak human words when his strange naga mouth and split tongue weren’t designed to do so.

I nodded, ignoring the empty rumbling of my belly, and began gathering my clean clothes so I could shimmy into them beneath the furs. Dove briefly tried to chew on the sleeve of my coat, then attacked the laces on my boots, but she was distracted the moment I tossed one of her twigs for her to fetch. It was probably my imagination, but my naga companion appeared relieved that I wasn’t stripping naked in front of him again. Noted, I’d learned my lesson not to assume it was the same here as it had been on Earth.

Once dressed, he offered me more gifts I hadn’t been expecting: warm meat he’d kept wrapped in some leaves to the side, as well as another ration bar to go with it, and some fresh dark purple leaves I didn’t recognize. He told me to eat them, so I did, and was surprised by the flavor, similar to arugula. Okay, so he’d cooked me breakfast, and that included a salad. I thought these guys were strictly carnivores? Dove certainly wasn’t interested in anything but the juicy meat, though she had to content herself with licking the grease from my fingers. No, that wasn’t true either; the naga produced a small rodent no bigger than his thumb for her. He’d thought of everyone.

I couldn’t keep calling him the naga in my head now; he was being too nice. “I’m Jasmine,” I said to him, tapping my chest, pleasantly warm and toasty in my dry clothes. “What’s your name?” I pointed at his chest, tapped my own again, and repeated my name before pointing at Dove and saying her name.

“You wish to know my name, female?” he drawled. His hands were busy, always busy, I’d begun to learn. He’d been carving something with an obsidian stone knife—arrow shafts maybe—and he lowered those agile hands to briefly pause what he was doing. His stare was unreadable, but then his shockingly lush mouth slowly began to tilt into something very close to a smile. He had called me female, and normally that definitely rubbed me the wrong way, except this was Serant and all the guys called each other male and the women female. “I am Ekkire of the Water Weavers,” he said, and he tapped his chest with his fist, the knife gleaming darkly between his fingers.

Ekkire. That name sounded vaguely familiar; maybe I’d heard it spoken by some of the hunters at Haven. He knew them; it was not strange to think they’d talked of him. I tried to recall if I knew anything else about him, but nothing came to mind. He was still a stranger—just a surprisingly kind one—even if he seemed to have only one type of expression: grumpy. Even when introducing himself, he looked angry about doing so. Yet that smile, that almost-smile… I hadn’t imagined that.

“You must hurry back to the sky wreck, Djasssmih,” he insisted, rising to point with his knife-wielding hand downhill to the wetlands below. “There have been no more quakes, and Joxra is anxiously awaiting your return.” He ducked and held up a large pouch. “I prepared your supplies.” Then he held up something else. “And a weapon.” He’d made a bow for me. It was a pale ivory, the wood bared of any bark, with a thicker handle, flattened curves, and narrow tips. Sinew made up the bowstring, twisted tightly in place.

It looked very similar to the bow I’d made for myself and lost in the earthquake. That was no coincidence, as I’d turned to the hunters here to construct my favorite weapon. They knew what wood to use and what sinew was best for the string. My mouth practically salivated as I saw the weapon, my hands eagerly reaching. Yes! A weapon, this was by far the best gift out of all the things he’d already done for me. I’d definitely make it back just fine on my own with a weapon to defend myself.

He handed it to me, then lifted my quiver with the tip of his tail and offered that too. The wood felt familiar in my hands, but also too light. Something twisted in my stomach at the discovery, but I was too giddy to pay it the attention I should have. Taking an arrow, I notched it, then drew back the string. Too easy. This was a very light bow, probably more suited to a child than to a trained archer like me. I held my breath as disappointment grew heavier, thicker.

The arrow flew true when I released it, thunking into a tree trunk across the clearing. It didn’t lodge deep and, sadly, dangled down before falling to the ground. I growled in frustration, my temper beginning to boil. No, I shouldn’t, this wasn’t a purposeful slight. I took a deep breath, and another, but it was a struggle. Why did I have to prove myself over and over? Why did everyone always underestimate me?

Ekkire eyed the fallen arrow, then looked at me. His eyes trailed over my arms, but they were obscured by the thick fur sleeves of my coat. His mouth twisted into a grimace, and then he shook his head. “That’s no good,” he told me, and held out his hand for the bow. I wanted to snap at him, warn him that I was a fantastic archer and that it was the bow, not me, that caused that sad result. His tail flicked the bow from my fingers without ever touching my skin, before I could say anything.

“You get angry easily, female,” he remarked, turning away and undoing the string on the bow with a very casual move of his hand. He pinned the wood of the bow to a rock and went to work cutting about three inches off each end, his hands quick and confident as he moved. I was lost for words as I stared, shocked that he’d call me out on being mad like that. I was not mad all the time, though my temper did flare easily. He was the grumpy, snarly one, not me, but that would be petulant to point out.

I crossed my arms over my chest, gave him a glare that probably only confirmed his statement, and waited. He was shortening the bow, which was a quick way to make it a bit heavier, even if it wasn’t ideal. It would help a little, but I’d still have to make a new bow to my own specifications. He offered the shortened bow to me moments later, restrung into a shorter, and thus tighter, curve. I tested it with little faith, but the arrow still flew true, and this time it lodged with a satisfying thump in the trunk of the tree and stayed there.

There was only one way to respond to that: “Thank you.” I swallowed the last remnants of my temper. I shouldn’t feel so self-conscious, so quickly, like I was being thought of as incompetent. He had never met a human before, how was he supposed to know my strength? He might be frowning all the time, and he might clearly have a thing about coming close and touching me, but his acts were all kind. He might be the only single male I’d met on this planet who didn’t try to hit on me.

“Good,” he said. “That will scare off wildlife until you can reach the sky wreck.” He made a muffled growling noise when he discovered that Dove had fetched my first arrow and chewed partially through the shaft with her sharp little teeth. His always-busy hands flicked through the pile of arrows he’d been creating. It was only when he handed me the pouch and offered me my quiver again that I realized he wanted me to get going.

He began putting out the fire, gathering his furs and packing all his supplies, the camp vanishing without a trace in a matter of minutes. Dove protested when he tried sweeping her pile of sticks away along with the grass and branches I’d used to sleep on. She growled, posturing with her tiny, silvery wings, and he dropped his tail with a silent glare.

“It is that way. You must walk fast to reach them before sunset.” He pointed, then crossed his arms over his massive green chest. He had a trident lying across his backpack and wore only a leather belt, braces around his wrists, and a piece of armor across one shoulder. There was no sign of a bow or arrows, but there was no doubting he’d known exactly how to make them. He’d packed far faster than I’d managed to strap my new arrows and quiver to my belt. His body shivered with repressed energy, and his eyes constantly flicked to the mountains behind me.

I was in his way; he had places to be, and he definitely didn’t fancy spending more time with me. Fine, I was going to consider this a vote of confidence in my skills. He thought I’d be okay making my way back to the crashed ship on my own, and he’d be right. This worked for both of us.

Putting on a cheerful smile, I waved at him. “Well, thanks for the help! And the bow.” I lifted the weapon and waved it in the air. “I’ll be on my way then, and you can be on yours. Have a good one!” He stared at me as if I’d just sprouted a second head, not understanding a single word I’d said. He made no move to follow me as I walked past him. He remained frozen in place, his hands tightening around the long staff of his trident. Sharp brow ridges lowered deep over his eyes, and his mouth tilted into what felt like disapproval.

A shiver shot down my spine, and I hurried to pick Dove up from the ground, her now-splintered arrow dangling from her mouth. I collected her sticks too, because who cared anyway, right? He already thought I was weird; that expression said he didn’t like me, and I’d never see him again anyway. Might as well make my new little friend happy by keeping her collection together.

With sticks, sleara, and several more supplies than I’d started with gathered, I set off. I did not look over my shoulder as I passed him, and I pretended it didn’t hurt either when he yanked a coil aside as if afraid I’d touch him. “Bye!” I said again, waving once and injecting more false cheer into my tone. He was not going to call me out on being easily angered again.

The sun had risen higher while I’d eaten and tested that bow, but it was still early enough that I should have plenty of time to reach the crashed ship. I couldn’t quite see it from here, but I was certain it couldn’t be more than a brisk four- or five-hour walk. Easy peasy, even with bruised ribs and more bruising on my backside than I’d ever had before. The stiffness would disappear the more I moved.

The terrain was a ravaged mess after the earthquake had ripped gullies and furrows through the land. Toppled trees lay in my path, but I climbed over them or went around them. While Dove fluttered around my head or scouted ahead, I whistled under my breath as I walked. The skin on the back of my neck prickled, warning me that I was being watched. As quickly as the forest had swallowed me and obscured him from sight, I did not think I’d fully shaken Ekkire.

Fine, that didn’t bother me. I’d just pick up the pace so he’d leave me alone sooner rather than later. Dove was all the company I’d need for as long as she wanted to stay with me.

Chapter 7

Ekkire

She’d left. Good. Finally, I could resume my own journey and travel into the mountains. This was my responsibility as a naga male, and as a friend to those I knew at the outpost. Yet my coils remained rooted to the spot long after her determined footsteps had faded away. I was done with her. She was Joxra’s mate, and it was to him she was returning. Her aim with the bow had been impeccable, and during daylight, it was unlikely any predators would bother her. She was going to be perfectly fine.

Swinging my backpack onto my shoulders, I turned and followed her downhill toward the sky wreck. Predators, yes, I had no doubt she could scare them off when needed. The slithrazers would be sleeping anyway. It was the survivors of the Thunder Rock attack party I was suddenly worried about. I’d chosen to abandon them to their fate to search for Jasmine, and then to head to the outpost. They had chosen their fate by coming here to attack humans resting peacefully. That did not mean they’d quietly retreated or forgotten about their planned attack.

My mind filled with images of what they’d do if they came across Jasmine with her small, far too light bow. The sting of such an arrow would scare off a slithrazer and make it turn tail. It wouldn’t even penetrate a naga’s scales. Stung with something like that, I’d just be pissed. Suddenly the landscape was dotted with dozens of potential hiding places for enemy naga lying in wait.

I tried to reason out what they might have done after the earthquake struck yesterday. Some might have been hurt, injured, or even dead. Any survivors would have aided them first, and then they might have retreated to regroup. If I knew Sun Fang—and I did—they likely would have done that, but the warriors from Thunder Rock? No, they would have doubled down. Perhaps they even blamed the presence of the humans for the earthquake itself. Some of those hunters were extremely superstitious. It kept the older outcast males from Thunder Rock from joining those at Haven, because Ahoshaga was a cave of the ancestors and was supposed to be haunted.

My pace increased until I was rushing downhill, completely in the wrong direction for the Sun Fang outpost. My mind kept supplying me with all kinds of images of what could have gone wrong due to my carelessness. How could I have been so stupid as to assume she was safe to travel the rest of the way back to the sky wreck alone? So what if she could shoot a bow and knew how to make fire with just a bit of string and some twigs? Competence in survival skills didn’t equal the ability to fight off full-grown naga males, and they were out there. I’d been fooling myself into thinking they’d either not survived the quake or were now too busy to make a problem.

I’d been the only one who’d laid eyes on the gathering attack force. It was me who’d come back to warn Corin and his group at the sky wreck of the impending attack in time for them to summon reinforcements. I’d seen who was in charge of the attacking group: Msera. He’d become the new Thunder Rock Queen’s favorite and had gained much in status and power during the long winter. He would not give up on his quest to destroy the humans, not until he was stopped. If he was one of the survivors, he’d be on this hillside, ever closer to the sky wreck and full of righteous fury when he discovered tiny, vulnerable Jasmine.

Jasmine, with the lush pink and black hair and a furious glare in her velvety brown eyes. Jasmine, who knew how to handle a bow and had all the survival skills of a hunter. Jasmine, who spat fire with her eyes and coaxed loyalty out of a frightened sleara like a siren. The female who belonged to Joxra, I reminded myself, but that did not absolve me of the responsibility to protect her. My pace only picked up as my mind calculated the path of the sun in the sky. How long had I waited in indecision before I followed her? What kind of trouble could she have gotten into in such a short time?

It hadn’t been short, though. I’d hovered in that clearing for nearly half an hour, cursing myself for being unable to move from the spot. She was so far away already. How had I not caught up to her yet? Unless… they’d already caught her. They could have killed her and tossed her corpse into one of the newly formed gullies. To my left was the one she’d been trapped in, and it was still raging with churning mud and water. I’d never find her if she was in there.

A feeling struck me then that was so powerful it felt like I was dying. A tightening of my throat, a pounding in my chest so fierce it felt like my heart was about to burst. The sense of failure was so powerful I couldn’t shake it, couldn’t dislodge it no matter how firmly I tried to tell myself I would have heard something if she was under attack. Sound carried in the hills, especially with so many of the trees still lacking foliage. The sound of a scream, a spear striking, a warrior’s cry. I’d have heard it.

The sleara’s sharp screech howled through the air just then. It sent chills down my spine, scales rattling not just on my back but all the way down my tail. It could have been any sleara, but I was certain it was Dove, the sleara she’d named that morning. Slowing down to hide my approach was possibly one of the hardest things I’d ever done. I strained my ears, listening for more sounds, but the sleara was now silent.

I heard… the wind in the trees, the soft flutter of birds in the branches, and the pounding of my own heart. Then, very faintly, I could hear Jasmine’s voice. She was furious, but when wasn’t she? Her tone rose and fell in a sharp cadence. If she was talking, she was alive; that was all that mattered.

I hunkered down low against the ground, stowing my backpack beneath the roots of a fallen tree. Then I began to approach, slowly, stealthily. As long as she spoke, she was breathing, and I counted on that. My tongue flicked out, drew scent particles in, and pressed them to the roof of my mouth in rapid motions. Analyzing, I teased out the notes that made up the environment and all those in it: Jasmine’s sweet, delicate scent now that she was clean of mud; the sleara’s silky pelt. There were male scents too—Msera, two unfamiliar, and another from Thunder Rock whose name I couldn’t recall right now.

Msera spoke over her, his tone sharp, even more furious than she was. “You are an abomination! You and your kind bring death and disease. I will regret nothing when I slay you.” He sounded like those from Bitter Storm, who had long shunned all technology and any naga not of the same scale color. Only we, the Water Weavers, had been allowed safe passage through their territory to trade for the rich, coveted fabrics our females wove.

I saw them a moment later, all four warriors fanned out around her with their spears aimed directly at her throat. One of them was bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder, and I could only surmise the fresh injury had been caused by the now-broken bow lying on the ground at her feet. She was magnificent in her fur coat, braced on her legs, bow raised in front of her as if she intended to battle them even outnumbered. So brave, for a human.

The sleara clung to her shoulder and had perhaps warned her of the approaching danger. Outnumbered, this would be a tough fight, even for me, but she seemed fearless. I tasted only fury in the air, and confusion from the naga. They did not understand why she did not cower in the face of what certainly looked like her final moments.

I had the element of surprise as I curled closer and formulated my plan of attack. Had I not had that, I might have hesitated to charge in. Later, I wondered why I had not hesitated over far more important reasons. Being a Water Weaver male meant being neutral, and I’d decided to leave Haven to be true to my own Clan. I should never have attacked anyone at all and risked my status as a trading partner with an influential Clan like Thunder Rock. But I did.

As Msera began listing the horrible way he intended to kill her, I circled. When the wounded one pitched in with plans on how to make her pay for shooting him, I nearly lunged without thinking. How far had they fallen? I had not realized that they had changed as surely as my time at Haven had changed me. These males thought nothing of hurting someone they’d never met, and who’d never harmed them. Well, granted she’d shot one of them, but I had no doubt he’d deserved it. In fact, I was impressed she’d managed to hurt him as badly as he was with that puny little bow.

When the closest one moved to strike, I was in place, my tail whipping out and my trident striking true. They had not scented me, had not seen me coming. In only a handful of seconds, I’d injured all of them, and then my tail coiled tight around Msera’s throat, and it was all over. I could have snapped his neck then—I wanted to, for the things he’d said—but I could not quite bring myself to do it. The Thunder Rock hunter clawed at my coils and lowered his chin to stab me with his horn.

My grip grew tighter, and now he was clawing for air. He deserved to die for the things he’d said he’d do. He deserved every moment of agony. I rose above him, leveling my trident at the others until they backed away into the treeline, their expressions furious and bitter.

“What are you doing, Ekkire? Didn’t we share Abseal over the fire only a few nights ago?” Msera spluttered, accusation burning in his eyes. I bared my fangs at him, because none of that mattered, not even a little. Yes, I’d passed through Thunder Rock Village when I left Haven a few days ago. They’d welcomed me then with open arms, but after what he’d threatened to do to Jasmine? Never would I share his Abseal with him again. That seemed to sink in, his pale blue eyes growing wide with confusion, with fear for his life.

My tail tightened, his breathing growing labored, and bones began warping beneath the pressure of my grip. A few more seconds was all it would have taken, but when the tiny sleara screeched… I dropped Msera, tossing him aside, and spun for Jasmine. There wasn’t enough time to do much, I’d allowed myself to get too focused on making Msera pay. This was exactly why I tried never to let my temper get the best of me; it clouded my judgment.

Jasmine had moved back and raised her bow, but that was flimsy protection when two males charged her and the third circled around to strike at my back. The sleara, with no regard for her fragile safety, dove on one of these males with claws outstretched. Jasmine fired her shot, but it barely slowed the second one down.

I moved without thought, acting on pure instinct. A roar sounded, so loud it could have rivaled that of the dragon. Just like the sleara, I disregarded my own safety entirely; I hurled myself toward Jasmine and her attackers. Trident leading, my vision blurring red until all I could see was the fear on her face.

When she screamed in pain, it was like something snapped inside me. I recalled nothing after that beyond the rushing in my ears and a bright glow. As the dust settled, I found myself curled tightly around Jasmine, with the taste of blood in my mouth. Her head was tucked beneath my chin, though even blinded by rage I had avoided hurting her with my horn. So soft, so small, she fit perfectly in my arms. Her features were lit by the soft golden glow.

“Ekkire,” she whispered. “I think my leg is broken…” Her fingers slid against my chest, touching my scales over the furious pounding of my heart. I growled, still struggling to come back from the brink of that all-consuming fury. Her touch, it helped, though. It helped a lot. Until it sank in that I’d understood her; I’d heard that word for word.

Chapter 8

Jasmine

I couldn’t stop touching the scales along his chest, my fingers trembling as I stroked them. They were firm, warm, and surprisingly smooth and soft. Ekkire’s heart was pounding beneath my fingertips, but that was no wonder. I’d never seen any of the naga Hunters at Haven move as fast as he had. Moving at least three dozen feet in the blink of an eye, he’d been there between me and the spear as it came toward me.

A spear… I shifted, suddenly deeply concerned that this spear had actually struck him. My hands clawed at his shoulders as I tried to lift myself high enough to look. Gold glowed from beneath the edge of his pauldron, and it trailed down that chest I’d been patting, too. His wide back was darker than his front, and it appeared completely unharmed. I breathed a sigh of relief, which quickly morphed into a groan of pain. Ah fuck, with the adrenaline wearing off, my leg hurt. Really badly.

Ekkire was like a rock, holding me to his chest, head lowered, eyes glowing. He wasn’t moving. My heart kicked in my chest, was the fight not over? I craned my head around and searched the clearing. A body lay nearby, azure coils all crooked and lax in a way that only came with death. I checked his shoulder and saw the tip of the arrow I’d shot him with still sticking out of the bloody hole. Other than the body, there was no one else in the clearing with us.

Ekkire had me in his arms, my body cradled by the coils of his tail, which actually kept my broken leg immobilized right now. He was glowing not just on his chest, but along his serpentine tail. A golden explosion of light and savage grace. My belly clenched, tightening into a ball as the sight of it sank in. But I had one more matter that was even more important: “Where is Dove? Did they kill her? Did you see her, Ekkire?”

He shook his head like he was coming out of a trance, the deep, mossy green strands of his long hair tangling with mine. “I… I haven’t seen her, Jasmine.” Then he craned his head to gaze around us like I had, his emerald eyes narrowing and the impressive ridges of his brows lowering. “She distracted one of your attackers very bravely,” he murmured, “then I lost sight of anything but you. I think she’s… yes, there!” He flicked the tip of his tail out and plucked something from the dry, gray-purple grass behind the body. It glittered white with the shimmer of a pearl.

Dove lifted her head, wings fluttering, and her tail began sweeping back and forth, much like the wagging tail of a dog. “Chirp kee kee!” she cried, wriggling in Ekkire’s grip. I breathed a sigh of relief; she was all right! Perhaps she’d been dazed for a moment, but as Ekkire released her, she leaped effortlessly through the air toward me. She landed with a thud against my chest, nearly toppling me backward if not for the solid grip of Ekkire’s arms. Pain shot through me, sharp and immediate, and I blinked back tears, biting down on my lip to keep from crying out.

To make matters worse, Ekkire began withdrawing as soon as I had hold of Dove. His arms released my waist, his tail unwound from around me. He was retreating, moving away, and it jostled the break in my leg. I saw stars, and this time I definitely couldn’t hold back the sound of pain. He froze again, his green eyes growing so wide he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, and his freaky split tongue flicked out, tasting the air, tasting me.

“I know,” I snarled through gritted teeth. With one hand, I grabbed hold of his bicep and held on tight. If he abandoned me now, I’d be so freaking pissed, and to hell with him calling me short-tempered. I’d have every fucking right. “I know! Deal with it!”

Dove poked her head up from where she huddled against my chest, sharp claws digging into my coat. Then she nipped him on the chin, hard. He reeled back, growling furiously at the tiny sleara, but she did not back down. Her wings fluttered, slapping me in the face, and she leaped, claws first, and struck him on the side of his head. I thought she’d picked up on my anger and pain and simply lost it. I was wrong.

She was shoving him, shoving him back toward me. I nearly fell out of his lap as he tried once more to shift away. That time, I screamed as the pain that shot through my leg felt like lightning sizzling through my veins. “Ah, by the sacred streams…” he groaned, his arms coming back around me in a rush, tail coiling to support my broken leg again. “I am sorry, Jasmine.”

“Sorry?” I gritted out. “I’m the one with the broken leg, and you’re having a meltdown because you just found out I’m your mate? Priorities, dude! And newsflash: I don’t want to be your mate any more than you want to be mine! We’ll deal with it later!” Figures, I’d find the one freaking male on this planet who didn’t want to get shackled to a human. I was going to pretend that didn’t hurt, didn’t sting even a little. That was exactly what I wanted anyway, wasn’t it? I didn’t need a guy, definitely not one of those ultra-possessive, ultra-doting scaly fellows. I’d never see another hunt again. Screw that.

His expression went from worried to something so furious I nearly flinched back. See, I wasn’t the only one with a short fuse around here. Though I had to admit, even through the pain in my leg and the hurt burning in my chest, that he looked a little silly with Dove clinging to his head.

She had her claws in his long hair, her tail coiled around a braid, and her wings outstretched for balance. Like she was the oddest living hat. More importantly, even when looking absolutely enraged, Ekkire did not try to dislodge her. He didn’t even respond when she bent her head down and nipped his eyebrow with a tiny growl.

Sighing, because anger was hard to hold onto when you were in this much pain, I reached for her. “Come on, Dove. You’ve done enough, sweetie.” She came at my croon, sliding down his hair, claws scraping scales as she dropped from his shoulder into my arms once again. She purred and chirped, nuzzling my chin and nestling against my chest with a whole lot of rubbing. Like a kitten settling onto a pillow for a good nap, but even more affectionate.

“Let me see it,” Ekkire said, the growl still clinging to the edges of his voice. Finally, he moved to get a look at my injury, but there wasn’t much to see through the fabric of my pants. He seemed dubious there was even anything there. His gaze lifted back to my face, as if he was checking whether I was truly hurt, but he didn’t ask. He knew I hadn’t faked that scream.

I had all the required first aid training. I’d needed those certificates to be allowed to take anyone untrained into the wilds. I knew what to do. So I began listing instructions, asking him to find me the items I needed to make a solid splint to secure my leg. It was nearly impossible, now that I’d convinced him to prioritize my injury, to get him to release me. Eventually, he went to get his backpack with supplies and cut fresh branches and bark to make the splint.

Waiting in that clearing, right next to a dead Thunder Rock corpse, was pretty terrifying. For several minutes, I wondered what I’d do if he never came back. If he left me here, how was I going to survive? I had food and water, and a buttload of arrows to go with my bow, but I wouldn’t be able to walk back to the crashed ship. Not in this terrain, I’d have to crawl and risk running into more of those Thunder Rock warriors.

Ekkire was so quiet when he returned that I didn’t hear him until he was almost right next to me. It made goosebumps break out along my spine. That was close, and if he could do that, perhaps an enemy naga could, too. I hated being that vulnerable.

Hovering at my side, he hesitated for a moment, and then, finally, he reached out to touch my shoulder with one hand. Instantly, the sigils along his chest and the front of his tail lit up again with a golden glow. Both of us stared. It was real. This was happening. He really was my mate, and I had no doubt that this was as unexpected to him as it was to me. He didn’t want this, but his sigils lit, he had no choice in the matter.

“We’re gonna cut open my pants first to see how bad the break is. We might have to set it. Have you ever done that before?” I said, distracting myself from the thorny mating issue to focus on the painful now. I’d used my lecturing tone, the one I reserved for those smug, extra-obnoxious clients I’d taken on hikes in the past. It made something curl briefly at the corner of Ekkire’s mouth, and that, in turn, made something twist in my stomach.

“I have set broken arms before for fellow hunters. I believe I know what to do,” he said. He sounded calm, which I found a little reassuring. His hand dropped from my shoulder, but the glow of his sigils did not fade. He’d sneakily begun wrapping his tail around my waist, still coiling more and more of it around me. He took my weight that way, propping me up, but also immobilizing me.

Then, with a grimace he failed to hide, he bent over my leg and got to work. I really tried not to scream as he moved me, or when he assessed the break and pushed it back into alignment with firm hands. It was impossible; the pain was so intense I nearly blacked out. I was grateful his restraining tail meant I couldn’t move, couldn’t try to stop him or get away. I hated him for it at the same time. It wasn’t over until he’d secured a splint of wood and bark around my shin, but by then I hung limply in his grip, exhausted, still aching. I felt wrung out, and my heart was still pounding wildly in my chest, my breathing too fast.

“Here, chew on this. It will help with the pain,” he said, and his hand came up to my face, holding out something dark and fuzzy. Moss? Bark? I wasn’t quite sure, but I was so out of it that I opened my mouth and let him put it on my tongue before I could think it through.

“Now you tell me? Couldn’t we have done that before you set the break?” I grumped, a bitter taste coating my tongue, but a numbness spread through me that was pleasant and warm. It definitely helped, the pain fading to the back of my mind and my heart rate beginning to slow. I became more aware of things around me again, like Dove huddled beneath my chin, cooing and crooning as if she were trying to comfort me. Or Ekkire’s warmth and solid grip around my body with his tail, not restraining, but protective, sheltering. I wasn’t used to such a feeling.

“Would you have taken it?” he said, with a wryness to his tone that made me smile despite myself. Ah, damn it, he was right, I probably wouldn’t have. I’d have been too suspicious of what it was, and whether it was safe for human consumption. Still a risk, but after that agony, I was definitely relieved not to have to feel it anymore. I knew it wouldn’t settle and ease for days, that pain, not unless I got to a healer. Like Corin, who had a device that could restore the break in a matter of hours, or, if it was bad, days.

“Points for that,” I muttered, my thoughts beginning to blur a little. “But that doesn’t mean you know me…” He said nothing to that, but I was vaguely aware of him moving around. My leg still throbbed, now confined in the tight splint so the swelling tissue had nowhere to go. It was the deep, burning kind of ache that, while not sharp and acute, would still be impossible to ignore if not for these primitive painkillers.

Now I just had to figure out how to get back to the crashed ship and Corin’s magic healing device from here...

Chapter 9

Ekkire

Jasmine was my mate. That knowledge sank deep into my bones as I watched over her directly after setting her broken leg. She was my mate; there was no denying it, as my sigils still glowed brightly for her even now. So brave, she’d been strong as I manipulated her broken bones back into place and secured the splint. She’d even tried to give me instructions through the process. There weren’t many hunters who could have gone through something like that without passing out. The fact that she hadn’t was a testament to her strength.

With the crushed Hura tree bark easing her pain, she’d gone limp in my coils, her head leaning back, her eyes hooded. Finally, her breathing was beginning to settle into a normal pattern, and her heart rate was coming down. That was good. Moving her, however… she could not walk with this injury, which meant there was only one option. I would have to carry her all the way back to the sky wreck myself.

I could picture what would happen when we arrived quite clearly. Joxra’s initial relief, if he’d survived his own dreadful injuries. Then their surprise at seeing my mating marks glowing for her. They would assume we would not want to be separated, and they’d never let her out of their sight while she was injured. I could not fault them for that, but it would mean I was trapped—unable to leave and go up to the Sun Fang outpost to help any survivors. The longer I was delayed… I did not want to think about that.

We could wait here, at least a short while, so she could recover. I knew there was no other option, though; she was too wounded for me to take with me. It was wrong to delay getting her to a healer like Corin, who could take away her pain in moments. Thinking about it, I felt a wave of anxious energy crash through me, no doubt courtesy of the mate bond. To ease her pain, I had to get moving now. She had been right to scold me earlier for getting lost in my own shock rather than taking care of her. I’d already failed at being a good provider, the protector she needed; it proved I wasn’t made right for this.

“I can see it, you know?” she murmured, her words all distinct and clear to me now that we were touching. The mate bond did all the work, somehow allowing me to understand what she was saying. It was exactly like the myths of old, from the days when the clans supposedly still mingled, still talked. The way it was at Haven now.

“See what?” I asked her. My mind was already running through a list of things I needed to replace once I got to the sky wreck. It was also trying to come up with the best way to move her. Keeping her leg elevated would reduce swelling, and thus her pain. I’d have to carry her in my arms, which would be… intimate.

“Your desire to be elsewhere. What is it in those mountains that’s calling to you?” she asked. Her chin jutted in the direction of Sun Fang’s outpost. I stilled, my hands freezing on the straps of my backpack. How had she known? Had I been that transparent?

I had a choice here: lock her out, keep her at a distance, or invite her in and tell her what my plans were. I considered that, because I’d never been one to share my plans with anyone. When I left Haven, I had simply gone, and when I left the Water Weaver village, I was also beholden to no one. She would not gain anything by knowing my plan; it would not change what needed to be done.

“The earthquake caused an avalanche of rock high in the mountains, right where I know a Sun Fang outpost is—a small mountain village with several families. I intended to travel there quickly to assist.” I did not tell her I blamed her for the delay, because I didn’t, but I could see on her face that she immediately believed I did.

Her gaze flicked from me to the mountains, and then she craned her head to look in the direction of the sky wreck. Her brow furrowed, proving she was thinking hard, and then she said, “I guess we’ve got some choices to make then.” I listened as she outlined those choices with growing consternation. My chest grew tight in much the same way it had grown painful when I’d thought she’d been in danger, and I’d abandoned her to that fate.

“No,” I snarled when she was done speaking. “Absolutely not.” Abandon her here? Never going to happen, even if she tried to convince me she could use something called “crutches” to make her way back. Taking her with me was out of the question, too, because I would not make her suffer in pain any longer than absolutely necessary. The choices she was outlining weren’t choices, but I appreciated that she was trying.

I recalled her fervent words: “I don’t want to be your mate.” Perhaps she was just trying to get rid of me in the same way I’d attempted to get rid of her ever since we met. Though getting rid of her like she was little more than a piece of garbage to be discarded felt incredibly wrong. No, she wasn’t that. Just inconvenient. Very inconvenient.

“What do you mean, no?” she said, frowning. Her velvety eyes could sparkle with fury quite well. It was a beautiful, glittering sight that I both enjoyed and wanted to dispel. I did not want her to be angry, just like I did not want her to be hurt, but I also didn’t want my life to change. Now, her sleara was staring at me in exactly the same way, and I had this creeping feeling that the pair were ganging up on me.

Taking a deep breath, I moved, though my tail remained around her to keep her comfortably propped up. Backpack on my back, my weapons all secured, good. I handed her the bow I’d made her, and she snatched it from my fingers to clutch against her chest. The sleara had to scramble onto her shoulder to get out of the way, chirping indignantly. Everything was ready; there was nothing more to do here, so I began reaching for her, my scales shivering along my spine in anticipation.

“No, I am not taking you with me. You must see a healer, quickly. No, I am not leaving you behind to make your way back alone. I’m carrying you back to the sky wreck,” I said through gritted teeth. Just thinking of either of those options made me furious. Did she think she was so skilled that, even injured, she’d make it? Or did she think her life was worth so little I’d carelessly abandon it to fate?

I lifted her with my tail, then snatched her into my arms. Her expression was mutinous, but she did not say another word. She’d gone pale as the sleara, her mouth settling into a grim line. “Pain?” I asked, shifting her as carefully as I could to raise her splinted leg without jostling it. She shook her head, but I knew better, so I offered her another wad of Hura bark. That she took it meant she knew how bad it was.

Getting my bearings, I ignored the soft flutter of Dove landing on my shoulder and settling in like she belonged there. Then I began carrying Jasmine downhill, dread filling me with each tree we passed, each rock I went around. She clung to me, wincing even though I tried to move as steadily as possible. The ruined, earthquake-damaged terrain made that hard. I hated that I was hurting her. She should be resting on a soft nest, pampered with treats and warm furs. Not this… yet I also knew she was as much a hunter, a warrior, at heart as many other males I knew. I expected them to be strong, so I was going to respect her strength and expect the same of her.

“Oh fuck, Ekkire, do you hear that?” she suddenly whispered. I had to admit that it was extremely convenient that I could now understand her. Twisting my head left and right, I sampled the air for scents while listening for whatever she’d heard. “Do you think that guy is coming back to finish us off?” she asked, very quietly.

“Yes,” was the short answer, but I didn’t say anything. Msera’s scent had continued to linger in the clearing, but now I picked it up further downhill too. He’d gone to fetch reinforcements. At least a dozen more Thunder Rock. I looked at the slight curve of black visible over the trees in the distance. The sky wreck had sunk into the ground when it opened up beneath it during the quake. It was closer than it looked, but still too far. They would not have sent the Dragon back to Haven, not while a threat still loomed, but that didn’t mean Sesethul was close enough. They would not hear us if we called for help. We were on our own.

“How many are there? I know you know. You’ve got better senses than I do, and even I know they’re out there!” Jasmine was getting impatient, and with the threat of danger, she also sounded stronger. Clearer. I made a choice then, one I knew I would never be able to undo. Had I been able to leave her near the sky wreck and alert them to her presence, I might have still slipped away and forced myself to forget about her. The longer she stayed in my presence, in my arms, the harder leaving her would be.

“Too many. They’re between us and safety. We must go the other way.” I shifted her ever so carefully in my grip until I could raise her above my head. “You must cover our retreat with your bow while I focus on speed. Can you do that, little hunter?” I didn’t realize how badly I’d slipped up, revealing the already intensifying feelings the mating bond inspired in me. Not until I saw the flutter of a smile curve her lips.

“I can do that, just… don’t drop me, kay?” She wasn’t angry when she said it; she was still smiling, and it took my breath away. So soft, so unusual. Her pink hair caught the wind and tangled with the rest of her silky black locks. I settled her very carefully onto my shoulders, securing her broken leg and her good leg against my chest with one arm, as gently as I could. This was going to hurt her, but she just chewed roughly on the third strip of bark I offered her and prepared her weapon.

Turning away from the trap of Thunder Rock warriors waiting ahead, I headed back the way we’d come—back into the mountains, speeding around rocks and over fallen trees. Not so cautious about jarring her now as I was about getting distance between us and these hunters, dead set on killing my brave Jasmine. I heard the whiz of her arrows as she released them before I saw hide or scale of the warriors. They gave chase, though, as soon as they realized we were heading the other way. The scent of blood in the air told me that even with a light bow and tiny arms, Jasmine was finding her mark and doing some damage.

She was magnificent, and truly skilled with that weapon. Her skill rivaled any hunter I knew, and she was tough too. This was not a female who would slow me down while traveling; she’d add to the journey, contribute. I’d barely discovered the truth of this mate bond and its intensity, and already my beliefs were changing. Fate chose for a reason, and perhaps it even chose well.

I thought that perhaps with enough speed I could circle around and double back on them. The gullies and other damage to the land the earthquake had caused made that impossible. There was only one way to go: forward. We needed to keep going uphill, further into the mountains, and as fast as I could. Jasmine was a light burden, and she’d used her bow cleverly to force the pursuing hunters to fall back. It wasn’t going to be enough.

Casting my head left and right, I could think of only one option. It was risky, because the earthquake could have done serious damage here, too. Thunder Rock was highly superstitious, though, and I hoped that would work in our favor. They wouldn’t follow us. Not in there.

Chapter 10

Jasmine

I was so close to fainting. The pain was terrible, but I knew I couldn’t let up, not now. Did I have something to prove? Sure, but this was more about survival than anything. Those Thunder Rock warriors were so close, letting me know they were there even as they stayed out of range of my bow. If I’d had the bow I’d made myself, I could have done serious damage. With this one? I could only scare them enough to make them fall back a little.

They were waiting for me to run out of arrows or pass out, whichever came first. I glanced at the quiver hanging awkwardly from my belt over Ekkire’s shoulder. Only three left. Biting my lip, I held back a groan as Ekkire flung us over a large tree trunk and abruptly swerved to the left. Stars danced in front of my eyes. Three left—that wasn’t much—but I feared passing out might win anyway.

The landscape changed very suddenly; at least, it appeared that way to me. We’d been going uphill, with the gully I’d been trapped in yesterday running on our right. Trees stood or lay everywhere, and the ground had mostly been that sturdy gray-purple Serant grass. Now we were traveling over rock, and several large boulders lay scattered and partially buried in great mounds around us.

I risked a glance ahead, but only for a second, as we were more in the open and I worried Thunder Rock might try to strike. A dark opening, a pile of rocks that looked unnaturally shaped. The segment of a stone tail and a fang the size of my arm, rising from a dirt mound. I knew, even with only those fragmented images, that Ekkire was about to take us into a cave—one that had been used by his ancestors, perhaps entirely man-made.

Moments later, the darkness swallowed us. Dove huddled more tightly into my neck, her wings curling against her small body. She let out a whimper, as if scared, and a similar sound bubbled from my throat. Briefly, all pain was forgotten as the cold, damp air of the cave enveloped me. My hands trembled around my bow, arms aching from holding it up this long. Did they follow? I couldn’t see anything but the bright entrance we’d entered through and the dark of the tunnel.

Squinting, I was certain I saw a shadow flash across the opening, and then another. Ekkire’s glowing sigils were the only light to see by inside the cave itself, and it wasn’t enough. Not yet, when my eyes were struggling to adjust. “They won’t follow, I hope,” Ekkire said. “We’ll be safe in here as soon as we’re out of arrow range…” As he said it, an arrow flew past my head, so close I could feel strands of hair flutter across my face. I hunched lower, but that was awkward when I tried to stay partially turned to watch the entrance.

Another arrow struck the rock next to us, and shards from the arrowhead flung through the air and struck my back. “I don’t think it’s working!” I hissed, the adrenaline of those near misses surging. I lifted my bow, tried to aim for one of the shadows at the entrance, and fired. Certain I’d missed, I hoped it was enough to keep them from following, though I didn’t see why. Nothing was stopping them from coming in here with us, was there? Ekkire seemed certain, right until they proved him wrong.

“It’s not working,” I warned. “They followed us in; I can see their eyes.” A dozen pairs, dancing through the darkness behind us. All in various shades of blue, like diamonds floating in midair. It was very eerie, and accompanied by the sound of furious snarling, growling, and a curse here or there. They didn’t like this, but they were determined to follow us. One of them had to be the same guy Ekkire had chased away, the one with all the nasty promises of what he’d do to me.

“By the sacred streams, what is Msera thinking?” Ekkire muttered, and his pace picked up. I knew how dangerous that was, racing into the darkness in an unknown cave. I had to put all my trust in him, because I saw far less than he did. One wrong step, one wrong move, and we could find ourselves falling into a hole, running headfirst into a dead end, or maybe even finding a predator in its den. This was so risky, but the Thunder Rock hunters showed no sign of giving up the chase. What choice did we have?

The ceiling was getting lower too, so after I fired my last arrow, I was forced to slide off Ekkire’s shoulders and into his arms. That felt safer, much safer, but I still made sure to look over his shoulder at the hunters chasing us. His arms were around me, his chest a protective barrier between me and the arrows still occasionally flying toward us. It was easy to believe he’d keep me safe, at all costs, just like any of the other mated males at Haven would do for their mate. I actually believed, just for a moment, that he wanted me after all.

The world abruptly turned upside down, not even the light from the entrance visible. My stomach lurched up into my chest, the only way I could tell that we were falling. Dove screeched, a sharp chirp kee kee that echoed in the cave, her claws digging into my shoulder as she alighted, and then a very sharp tug on my hair. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to register anything else.

We crashed to the ground far below with a thud, and pain burst bright and sharp through me. I knew I’d passed out, and I had no clue for how long. I just knew that when I came to again, I was in pain—lots of it—but I was alive. Somehow, I’d survived the fall, and I didn’t think my leg had gotten any worse either.

Dove was nuzzling the side of my face, her anxious chirps sounding mournful. At least, I thought that was Dove, but it was so dark in here I couldn’t see a thing. “I’m okay,” I groaned, trying to lift my hand so I could pet her. Okay was a stretch, a very big stretch, and when I discovered my hand was pinned, I panicked. Very briefly. It was Ekkire; he’d curled much of his long tail around me, and I was lying across his chest.

Ekkire. Now the panic turned sharp. He wasn’t moving either, and when I shifted against him, he didn’t respond. “Hey! Wake up, are you okay?” I lowered my head against his chest and heard the thumping of his heart. Alive, for now. It didn’t take a genius to know what had happened. We’d fallen down a shaft in this tunnel, and this stubborn Water Weaver naga had used his own body to break the fall for me.

I managed to free my hands from his coils, and very gently patted his chest and neck. Then I slid them into the silky strands of his long hair and searched the back of his skull with gently prodding fingers. I held my breath as I did it, terrified I’d find strange bumps or a bleeding wound. There was nothing there, not that I could feel, but I knew that meant nothing. Not until he opened his eyes.

“Damn it, didn’t you see this hole?” I muttered, but without any venom. He’d never have fallen into it if he’d seen it, and we wouldn’t be in this hole if not for me. They had no beef with him; it was me they wanted dead. Though, after he’d killed one of them to protect me and nearly killed another, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be nice to him either. I’d pretty much ruined his neutral status with Thunder Rock. Great job, Jasmine. No wonder he didn’t want me.

Dove chirped again from just above my head, and this time when I reached up, I could actually reach her flank. She purred, chirped, and rubbed her head and body against my fingers. “Sorry, baby, you might have chosen the wrong human to make friends with. I promise I’ll try to keep you safe.” As soon as I figured out how to make light, I’d assess the rest of Ekkire’s injuries.

With a lot of swearing, near fainting, and what felt like monumental effort, I heaved the last of Ekkire’s heavy coils off my body. Freed from his grip, I carefully rolled off him, and then I set out searching for the belt around his waist. Surely he carried a ‘light source,’ as the hunters called it. If it wasn’t broken, that would be the fastest solution. Once I could see, I could actually do something.

My hand brushed over abs that flowed in ridges across his belly, the curve of a hip bone, and then touched leather. I winced as I began stroking along that belt to find the various pouches tied to it. If I slipped, I’d touch his groin, and I didn’t want to do that. Well, I did, damn it, but not like this. The first pouch held various bits of string, fluff, and a pair of stones. Fire-making tools. The second was more fitted, like a knife sheath, and it held the light source I was after.

It fit into my palm, a tiny crystal-like device that, with a flick of my thumb, flared to life. A warm, yellow glow filled the area around me. We were in another tunnel, much like the one leading from the entrance into the hillside. It was a narrow, cold place, with one wall dripping with condensation. There were cracks in many places, too, which led me to think the place was highly unstable. If there was another aftershock from the quake, would the whole place collapse on top of us?

A shaft opened above our heads, one that likely hadn’t been there before the earthquake. I expected to see faces above us, but I saw only darkness. There wasn’t even a hint of sunlight from the cave entrance. Had we gone that far inside, or had night fallen?

Stiffly, I lowered the light again and shuffled around to locate the rest of Ekkire’s supplies. Was his backpack still here? Where was my bow? Dove fluttered through the cave at my feet, sometimes at shoulder level. She cooed worriedly at me each time I groaned in pain as I moved. The only option was to hop around using his trident as a crutch, and that thing was heavy.

The tunnel we were in stretched to either side of us, but rocks lay scattered around the shaft overhead—a pile of rubble and dirt that Ekkire was awkwardly lying atop. The walls were smooth and tall above us, so it would be nearly impossible to climb out. Not without a rope, and not while my stupid leg was a hot mess. I still couldn’t quite remember how it had gotten broken in the first place, but I vaguely remembered the sweeping tail and claws of a Thunder Rock hunter bearing down on me.

It was agonizingly slow to check the tunnel for dangers, and even slower to pry Ekkire’s backpack out from under him. Dove tried to help, biting the strap and pulling with all her might, and her presence made me feel a little more hopeful. This was bad, but we were alive; we were going to make it. Once I had the backpack, I searched it, even though Ekkire had warned me not to touch it before. This was life or death; he’d get over it.

No matter how thoroughly I searched, there was no healing device in it. Something many of Haven’s hunters did carry on them, scavenged on their travels, sometimes a gift from a Shaman. He had food, a satchel full of herbs and spices, colorful trinkets, and thick, warm furs to sleep in. We had two waterskins filled to the brim, and at least a dozen knives. There was also a firestarter, but I doubted I’d be able to find enough wood down here for a fire. The snares, those I’d hobbled around to set out, because you never knew what scuttled around in the safety of the dark. Perhaps we’d get lucky.

After that, I had to settle for putting a fur carefully under his head, the rest wrapped around me, and my foot elevated to ease the throbbing pain. With his trident next to me and a knife in hand, I waited. Guarding him, monitoring his breathing and his heart rate, and jumping at every noise. What if I didn’t see Thunder Rock hunters above us because they’d gone the long way around? What if they were on their way right now?

“You hungry?” I whispered to Dove. She was circling Ekkire with her nose to the ground, sniffing at his coils and at the rubble we were on, occasionally pawing at something with an excited little chirp. I could only imagine what she was digging up and eating, but I tried very hard not to think about it.

At the sound of my voice, she fluttered into the air and soared straight into my lap. Circling, tail fluttering, the peachy fuzz of her soft pelt rubbed against my fingers. She settled down in a tiny ball against my belly, wings curled like a shield around her, from which a pair of large, silvery eyes peered out. “Guess not. That’s good.” I was in too much pain to feel any hunger myself, and I worried about Ekkire. He glowed a soft gold because I’d curled against his side, and I took that as a good sign. His sigils would probably not light if he was really wounded, would they?

I’d just begun rooting around in his bag of herbs to see if there was anything that smelled like coffee. Staying awake felt nearly impossible. That’s when he finally woke, his green eyes blinking open suddenly and focusing hazily on my face. I didn’t even think he’d seen anything else, and it was eerie to see how aware of my presence he was even when he was half out of it. “Jasmine,” he groaned, his hand coming up to touch my back. “What happened?”

Oh God, I hoped that didn’t mean he had memory loss; that would be really bad. He also didn’t hesitate to touch me, and sounded so far from his usual gruff self that it made my stomach twist. “What’s the last thing you remember?” I said through dry lips. I leaned into his touch, my eyes scanning his upper body for the millionth time to reassure myself he wasn’t bleeding and didn’t have any broken bones.

“Being chased by Msera and the others into the caves of the ancestors…” he winced, and his other hand went up to touch the back of his head. “The floor just suddenly disappeared beneath my tail. I should have paid better attention.” Then he abruptly jerked upright, his eyes growing wide, their odd vertical pupils contracting. “Your leg, Jasmine. Is it hurt more?” He began scanning me, hands reaching to lift the fur I’d wrapped around me and run them over my body. His sigils glowed brighter.

“I’m okay,” I told him, confused by his reaction and torn between wanting it and wanting to snap at him for getting under my defenses so fast. He wasn’t supposed to care; he’d made it clear he didn’t want a mate, didn’t want me. So why was he acting like my well-being was all he could think about?

“Look, stop it!” I pushed his hand away just as he brushed it under my coat and along my ribs. Somehow, Dove was letting it all happen with twinkling mercury eyes, like it was a game to her to get rocked about, half-trapped between me and the naga male. “I’m fine, no more bruised than before, thanks to you. The cast held, too.”

His eyes went to my leg, and he twisted his torso in a flexible way that no human could manage. “Ah, stars, Jasmine,” he groaned. “I have failed you again. Now we are lost down this tunnel, and you must remain in unnecessary pain until we can circle back to Corin.” He seemed to struggle to move his tail, but he slowly shifted it into more comfortable coils against my back.

“It’s okay, Ekkire. This wasn’t your fault. It was a very clean break, all things considered, and I’m pretty sure you set it correctly. I’ll be okay.” It was sore, so sore. Barring any further jarring of the break, I thought it was okay, for now. If I really needed it, I had faith that a skilled Shaman like Artek could fix it, even if it had already healed crooked. Bonus points: he had good painkillers that were safe for humans.

To distract him, I offered him one of his rations, and he allowed me to urge him back down to rest after eating it. From the look in his eye, he had more to say, so I beat him to it. “Look, the only thing I feel bad about right now is that my friends from Haven still don’t know I’m alive. Other than that, no regrets. Got that?”

His mouth curved, the frown turning from surly to something that bordered on seductive. The change took my breath away. “Oh, they know. I sent them a message. They know you’re with me.” The way he said “with me” made it feel layered, not just a simple we’re in each other’s company kind of thing. No, it sounded like so much more, but that was a mistake, wasn’t it?

Chapter 11

Ekkire

My head was a confused, jumbled mess when I woke. The world tilted at an odd angle I just couldn’t figure out. Not until Jasmine moved and I realized we were on a bit of a slope. My stomach turned, but that was from the concussion. I’d been lucky I hadn’t been more seriously injured in a fall from that height. I’d done what I could to slow our descent, while also trying to protect tiny, fragile Jasmine. Seeing her up and, albeit slowly, moving about made me feel a great deal of relief.

I needed rest—at least another handful of hours—but then I was certain I’d be feeling much better. I always healed fast, and I had far more reasons to get well quickly than ever before. Curling my tail, I shifted to hug more of her body against mine. Emboldened when she did not protest, I reached for her, carefully drawing her into a horizontal position next to me. With a coil of my tail, I lifted her injured leg to elevate it. “I must rest, so do you, and this will keep you warm.”

“Sure,” she sassed, “we’re cuddling purely for heat. That never works out. I can tell you that.” I raised a brow, confused by her words. A hint of possessiveness curled through me, and I struggled to control it. This female, cuddling with another male? It was a picture I couldn’t shake, no matter how badly I tried. She was so soft and small in my arms, and despite her sassy tone, she willingly curled into my chest.

“You cuddle with other males?” I growled, the words out despite my struggle to shove the feeling away. No, I did not have the right to ask this. She did not want a mate. She did not want me, and I’d made her think I did not want her, either. I knew how wrong that was now, but how did I rectify that mistake?

Her finger prodded my chest, a firm stab right between my pectorals. I lowered my chin and stared, wondering if she was trying to point out the still brightly glowing gold of my sigils. Those marks would glow each time we touched, and I wouldn’t be able to control them until after we’d completed our bond. After I’d seeded her.

Ah, stars, why did I think of that? My body grew tight, heat spiraling through my veins and arrowing straight for my cock. It stirred in its pouch, eager to extrude, eager to taste her heat. I couldn’t blame it, I had more control than this. Yanking the furs she’d previously curled around herself, I pulled them over both of us, over my groin, where I pulsed with pleasure bordering on pain.

“Now listen here, buddy!” she snapped, rising on one elbow to glare at me with that beautiful fire sparkling in her velvet-brown eyes. “It’s not your business who I’ve cuddled with in the past, is it? You made it clear you didn’t want me, and the feeling is mutual, it hasn’t changed.” Want me, she said, making it a personal rejection, not a general one. That wasn’t what I’d meant, what I’d felt when meeting her. Not even close.

Perhaps the fogginess still clouding my brain loosened my tongue. I spoke in a way I never would have otherwise, not unless halfway through a bottle of Iave’s most potent Abseal. I just needed her to know: I wanted her. I didn’t want a mate who’d tie me to one place. Those were very different things, and now that I knew who she was, perhaps both were even possible.

“Jasmine,” I started, interrupting her tirade. “If I could have chosen a mate, I couldn’t have chosen anyone better than you. Bold, brave, clever, and so beautiful you take my breath away. You make me ache to have things I did not think were possible, not for a male like me. I roam. I always have, and I always will. That’s why, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath, squirming when the heat in my body—the desire I felt for her—still did not go away. “You make me believe it’s possible. You make me want, so badly… But look where we are. Look at how I failed you with my choices…” I gestured at the tunnel we’d fallen into, up at the shaft above our heads. We were lost because I’d never been down this deep, and that meant it might be days before she could ever get to the healer she needed.

“Stop it! Enough, okay?” Jasmine suddenly pressed her hand over my mouth, startling me into silence more effectively than her words did. She looked furious again. Her glare was so fierce it made my belly tingle, answering a rising passion that translated into heat for her. By the sacred streams, I’d never desired a female like I desired her. She made me lose my mind.

“It is the truth,” I murmured against her palm, and the soft touch of her flesh on my lips only fanned the flames. I’d known it by the campfire, when she’d undressed and I’d caught that first, tantalizing glimpse. My response had been so powerful it had nearly undone me. I’d known that if I could not slip away quickly, I’d never slip away at all.

“No, it isn’t,” she refuted immediately. “You didn’t get us trapped down here; that was an accident. We would still be here even if you had wanted me as your mate.” She bit her lip and lowered her head, and the pink and black of her silky hair slid forward to shield her face. “The truth is, I’ve been running from having a mate too. And it has nothing to do with you, either. So I understand. Okay?”

She tried to slip away then, but her broken leg made her slow. I caught her in my arms and dragged her back against me. “What makes you run, Jasmine?” I asked. She didn’t want to tell me, her face closing up, her eyes turning away. “Who hurt you?” I demanded.

“No one,” she snapped. “Everyone,” she relented. Everyone, a generalization, I hoped. My mate, she was not just wounded physically, but in spirit too. A drop of something struck my scales. Alarmed, I reached for her chin and lifted her head. More wetness clung to her cheeks, to the curl of her lashes; even her eyes looked watery.

“What is this?” I asked, thoroughly alarmed. “Why are your eyes leaking all of a sudden? Are you sick? Injured? What can I do?” She looked so sad, and that wasn’t the Jasmine I’d gotten to know over the past two days. She was bold, she was always furious, and she was so brave she was a hunter in her own right—a warrior I’d gladly have at my back. She’d already proven capable of covering our retreat before, her arrows precise even with a subpar weapon.

“It’s called crying. Didn’t you see that while you were at Haven? Humans do it all the time,” she said, a smile that was still sad tilting the corner of her mouth upward. She was putting on a brave face, but she wasn’t over whatever pain had caused this strange response.

“No.” I shook my head, frowning as I thought back, but very certain I’d seen nothing of the kind at Haven. “Crying is a sound. You do it with your mouth, not your eyes!” She chuckled, then smothered the sound with a hand. I was glad it was cheering her up, but I still very badly needed to know what had made her cry in the first place.

Everyone, she’d said, everyone had hurt her. Had she been hurt at Haven? Zathar would pay for letting that happen on his watch. I could not imagine anyone getting to Jasmine, though, but if she’d been hurt, no wonder she was so easily angry all the time.

“Maybe that’s how naga cry, but with humans, there are tears involved.” She rubbed a finger over her cheek, and then we both stared at the droplet lying on her fingertip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all mushy. Let’s both get some rest, and then we’ll find away out of here tomorrow, together.” She seemed to think that meant the conversation was over and began turning away, but I wouldn’t let her retreat just yet.

“No, you must explain to me who hurt you, and when. Then we will think of a plan to make them pay, together.” I purposefully echoed her last word, hoping to drive home that she had me now. That whatever my previous desire had been, soothing her hurt, avenging her pain, it mattered more.

“Oh…” she said, so startled that I wondered when she’d last had anyone stand up for her. I knew what that was like. I was always alone, but that was by choice; I liked being alone. If I wanted friendship, a brother to watch my back, there were always options. A Water Weaver was welcome at any hearth, and many of my Clanmales were scattered across the land. There were places we’d meet, stories we’d share. I considered Zeidon my closest friend and knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d come to my aid if I asked him. Jasmine’s reaction told me she did not believe she had anyone like that she could trust.

“Look, Ekkire. I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary.” She shook her head, but the tears had begun to dry; that was a good sign. She also stopped pulling away and curled against me instead. I took great satisfaction from that. She was safe with me, and I hoped she knew that. Then Dove piled on, fluttering down from wherever she’d been foraging, to land on my chest beside Jasmine’s head. She circled twice before settling into a tight curl and going to sleep. Now I had two small females sheltering in my coils, and I felt rich beyond compare.

“It is necessary. If you were hurt at Haven, I will take it up with Zathar. He promised the humans they would be safe, and he failed to keep his promise!” As furious as I was about it, I kept my tone down so the little sleara wouldn’t startle. I pinned Jasmine with a fierce stare, though, so she knew how serious I was.

“I don’t need your protection,” she said, bristling like a little Ayala testing her quills. I tried to decipher the statement rather than respond with instinctive fury, with a claim. We weren’t there yet. She wasn’t there yet, even if I was. She was mine to protect, now and forever. She did need me, but perhaps not for protection. Not the way other humans did.

“No, you don’t need it,” I said firmly, “but I’m offering it freely anyway. Perhaps being mates means something different to us than it does to those at Haven. I just know that you don’t have to carry this alone, this hurt.” I gently touched her chest, over her heart, and saw with relief that her features softened, the anger fading.

“Okay, okay,” she nodded. “Yes. But you’re too late. I was talking about my life before, back on Earth. You can’t reach the ones that, uh… need some serious payback. I appreciate it, though, Ekkire. You’re a good guy.” I nodded. Yes, good guy—that worked for me.

When she settled down to rest, I let her, this time. I needed so much sleep myself, I couldn’t afford to stay up much longer. We appeared to be safe, for now. With our fall into this hole, I was certain Msera and those of Thunder Rock with him would have given up the chase. They should never have followed us into the ancestral cave in the first place, and had broken many taboos by doing so. Maybe this was enough to persuade them their superstitions were well-founded. They certainly wouldn’t try to burrow deeper to find us, and would assume we were either dead or trapped.

Still, it took me a long time to fall asleep, listening to the slow breathing of Jasmine and watching the peaceful expression on her delicate face now that she was resting. She was so many things all wrapped in a tiny package, and proof that the fates choose right, even for the most stubborn of males. My mind whirled with possibilities, with a future filled with her smile and companionship on my journeys, with all the obstacles that came with it, and how to overcome those. Would she mind traveling all the time? Could I stand living at Haven with her several months out of the year? I didn’t know. I didn’t have those answers, but I wanted them very badly.

Chapter 12

Jasmine

Waking up curled in Ekkire’s arms was very different from how I’d woken up the morning before. The soft glow of the lightsource still filled the tunnel, but it was impossible to tell if it was morning or still night. I wanted to burrow closer to him, let that enticing scent of his fill my lungs and mark my clothes. I couldn’t remember ever lying with another man this way, and realized this was probably a first. Safe, not pressured—just both of us simply resting. It didn’t need to mean anything else; it simply was.

As I roused more, I began to remember what we’d talked about last night. He had demanded to know who’d hurt me, hellbent on avenging me. Exactly the kind of thing a mated naga male would do for his human. I’d heard more than one “I’ll kill him” or “I’ll kill it,” simply because a girl at Haven had stubbed her toe. What was far harder to shove aside was his fervent promise that I didn’t need to carry my hurt alone. That was… that was intimate, and it had gotten under my defenses in a hurry.

Perhaps he and I weren’t so different, and perhaps he wasn’t the kind of man—male—who would try to change me. I didn’t think Ekkire would coddle me in ways that would make me feel smothered. Maybe, I dared to hope, Ekkire wouldn’t demand of me what I wasn’t ready to give. He seemed far more patient, withdrawn, or just quiet, than any other male I’d met since waking on Serant. Even more eye-opening, he had been as surprised when his sigils lit up as I was, and as unwilling to face them at first. He really had no control over them; this was pure chance. Or maybe it was fate, if I believed in that sort of thing.

Dove had rolled onto her back during the night, paws in the air and wings outstretched. I discovered that Ekkire had cupped a hand around her so she couldn’t slide off, and he was still protectively cradling her even in his sleep. He was seriously at risk of making me like him, a lot. Especially if he kept being that sweet to Dove while it was obvious he did not understand the concept of a pet…

I stared at his face and cataloged all his differences. He was definitely not human, starting with the most obvious: a tail instead of legs, protective scales instead of skin, and a horn jutting from his chin that looked sharp and dangerous. Then there were the finer details, like his split tongue and slit pupils. Long, dark green lashes fanned against the carved slopes of his cheeks, while spiky ridges took the place of his eyebrows.

The color of his scales was this exquisite emerald hue, while his hair was a deep, dark green. Hints of gold swirled at the edges of some scales, while black darkened the edges of others. I traced them with my fingers and was surprised by how soft the scales felt beneath my touch. I’d expected armor, but it felt like warm, slightly bumpy skin. It made me realize I’d never paid any attention to what naga scales felt like before. I’d been at Haven for three months and made it my business to prove to each male there that I wasn’t their mate. I’d done that by touching their scales, and it had never registered how nice they felt.

“What are you doing?” Ekkire said, startling me and catching me red-handed, feeling up his abs. The surly tone of his voice made me feel like I’d done something wrong. However, when I snatched my hand back, he trapped it against his abs with one of his in a lightning-fast move. Heat warmed my cheeks, but there was no anger or accusation in his eyes. I was pretty sure that was heat instead, the kind that made my toes curl. On just the one foot, though, the other still hurt far too much for any toe-curling.

“I, uh… I was curious?” I admitted, my voice husky, and it wasn’t from sleep. Dove responded by lifting her head and swiveling to stare at me with her large, silver eyes. She sniffed as if she knew exactly how my thoughts had begun to spiral into the gutter when I’d focused on Ekkire’s abs. With a huff, she seemed to decide it was time to make her retreat. She stretched like a cat, all arched spine and twitching tail, then leaped from Ekkire’s chest to start sniffing around the tunnel we were in.

Ekkire and I both watched her go, the silence between us stretching. He cleared his throat. “Curious? About my… scales?” Oh, he didn’t sound so surly now; he sounded shocked. He sounded like he couldn’t quite fathom why I’d be intrigued by the play of colors over those defined ridges. Maybe he didn’t know how pretty it was, and how attractive I was beginning to find not just his scent, but all of him. He was like a green, scaly version of Poseidon with his trident, and apparently I had a thing for Poseidon-like aliens.

“Yeah,” I said, a little more boldly. He was still confused, and it occurred to me that this guy had never been flirted with in his life. Oh, hell, he might even be a virgin. Now why did that make me feel safe? I leaned a little closer, perching my elbow on his chest. It made me twist my broken leg awkwardly, but it was a dull, deep ache, not a sharp pain.

“I’ve been thinking,” I told him. “You and I, we’re not that different. You wander the world, and I think I know why you do it. It’s this restlessness, isn’t it? This itch in your bones to go, to move, to see new places?” He began nodding with each word I spoke, slowly at first, but much more firmly as I finished, a spark of recognition lighting in his eyes.

“Yesssss,” he hissed. “That’s exactly it! I feel trapped staying in one place, and the itch becomes unbearable until I leave. That is why I am not right for a mate. I could never give you a home.” His tone turned mournful, but it sparked more hope inside my chest. See, this might actually work. It really might. Ekkire was so like me when it came to this need to see new places; it was uncanny. There had to be something to this mate bond thing after all.

“I feel that too, Ekkire. I haven’t wanted a mate because I thought I’d feel trapped, and it sounds like you thought the same…” I left the words hanging there because I was uncertain where I was going with this.

There was one thing I was certain of: I was not ready to commit to anything. This was simply a tentative exploration of what might be if we allowed it to develop. He did not seem to have a clue how to answer, either, but perhaps it didn’t need words. A tilt to his mouth made it curl into this sexy, seductive sort of smile. His eyes filled not with that mournful look of loss, but with a spark of hope. It made something throb inside my chest, not arousal, though that was there too, but something much warmer and much more fragile.

“Ah, Jasmine, you don’t know how much that pleases me to hear. All I need to do is adjust to having company, like a sleara, and we’re all set.” When my eyes widened, a hint of panic sparking in my veins, he threw back his head and began laughing, the sound raspy and hoarse, like he had not laughed in so long he’d almost forgotten how to do it. “It will take me a long time to do that, do not worry, and if not, you could always shoot me.”

Shoot him? The thought was so horrible I reared back and began shaking my head. No, not this guy who’d literally risked dying to prevent me from getting hurt in the fall. The guy who’d dragged his, uh… tail every step of the way, yet proved with gesture after gesture that he was a total sweetheart. Trustworthy, patient, loyal. I knew that to be true even after two days. That very first night, he’d made me realize, shamefacedly, that he was a total gentleman and would never demand the things any of my clients back on Earth had. Never.

So what I said was: “Have you ever kissed a human?” which was a stupid question because, duh, of course he hadn’t. Naga didn’t even know what kissing was until we showed up on this planet last year, or so I’d been told in Vera’s introductory class on naga. Ekkire’s sigils began to glow brighter than ever, a flash of light that almost surpassed that of the light source lying next to us on a rock. He knew what I meant; he must have seen it at Haven, even if he’d somehow missed seeing me.

“The mouth mating, is that what you mean?” he asked, voice so low it came out almost like a growl, a rumble I felt deep in my belly. It made me clench my thighs together and forget all about my broken leg and how much I didn’t want to get close to anyone, least of all a guy. I nodded, my mouth already going dry with anticipation. “No, I have not,” he said simply, with no judgment in his tone. There was curiosity, that heat that lit his eyes and the marks on his chest, but nothing to suggest he thought I was an idiot for even asking.

Taking a deep breath, I took the plunge, leaning in and quickly pressing my mouth to the corner of his. Not quite a kiss, but almost. I began to lift my head, the touch so fast I’d barely felt the texture of his mouth or captured his taste. He caught my hair in his hands, refusing to let me go more than an inch. “No,” he growled. “Do it right or not at all. Do not tease me, Jasmine.”

He tilted his chin, and this time the kiss was full contact. Lips to lips, breath mingling with breath. There was no pain from my leg then, just him filling my senses. I should have felt trapped; he was holding me by my hair, refusing to let me retreat. I felt powerful instead. Ekkire arched beneath me, his long tail shifting across the rubble and winding around me, ever careful of my injury. Only gold and green filled my vision, and the sound of his deep, unfiltered moan filled my ears.

I’d never had a man respond to a simple kiss the way he did. Like I’d shocked him with a live wire, he’d gone tense, but every sound he made was filled with pleasure. “Jasmine, stars… By the sacred streams, I never… I can’t believe… Ah, do it again, I beg you.” His hands might be holding me, his tail might be tangled around me, but I held all the power. I could give, or I could take.

I kissed him again, this time darting my tongue out to press against his lips. He gasped, and I licked the edge of his fang and the roof of his mouth. I lost control then, but I didn’t mind. His pleasure was beautiful to see, but now my own body began to sing. He was a mixture of sweet and savory, a tang of spice; a hint of those special ration bars he made. Rolling us, I found myself spread on the fur I’d worn around my shoulders for warmth. Yet I still didn’t feel trapped.

This kiss awakened something in him that was all passion and tenderness. His touch was soft as he went from gripping my hair to cupping my face. He held himself above me without pinning me, yet he wasn’t using his hands. No, this was all core strength and the balance his tail provided. “Tell me to stop,” he muttered, a sound barely heard over the pounding of my heart. Like hell. I wanted him to make me forget, to kiss me until both of us felt only pleasure.

My hands shot up, finding his hair and the bumpy texture of the scales along the edges of his ears. He groaned at the touch, the kiss deepening when his tongue shot out to tangle with mine. Taking the claim I’d staked and making it more; a dominant stroke of silk, a burst of taste that seared into my brain. It reminded me of what it should feel like between two willing people. The give and take, the freely felt pleasure.

When Ekkire’s hands began to roam, I arched into them, welcoming the touch. Even when he began to shed my coat and peel my shirt from my body, I welcomed it. I was back in college, back in my parents’ home, fumbling around with my first boyfriend. Untainted by everything that came after.

“These kisses, are they mouth-matings only, or can I do this?” Ekkire asked, and then he caught me off guard by dragging his mouth along my chin, down my throat. His fangs nipped the edge of my collarbone with the tiniest pinch of pain, and pleasure shot through me, hard and sharp. I arched, moaned so loudly the sound echoed against the cave walls, and I felt the smirk curl the edges of his mouth in response. “I’ll take that as a yes, little hunter.”

I was in a haze, pleasure fogging my brain. My knuckles ached from gripping his shoulders so hard. He laved my skin with his long, split tongue, dragging it down my throat to the valley between my breasts. My shirt had vanished, slipping with a flutter over my head, but my sports bra stayed in place. I didn’t realize until later that was probably because he didn’t know how to undo it. His hands stroked my skin with reverence, blazing trails of fire over sensitive flesh. I arched beneath him, clinging shamelessly, as he pulled sensations from me I didn’t remember feeling before.

Ekkire might never have kissed anyone before, but he was an eager student, finely tuned in to any sounds I made. When lapping at the slope of my breast made my breathing stutter, he did it again. When his thumb found the hard tip of my nipple through my bra, I moaned, so he circled it over and over. Heat mounted between my thighs, so fierce I knew I was on the verge of something great.

Shifting my good leg beneath him, I managed to hook it around his hip and pull him closer. The press of his body against mine sent me over an edge I hadn’t known I’d been on. Pleasure spiraled as a hot, thick bar branded my core with a shove of his hips. He groaned, twisting above me, and then the sound morphed into a roar.

I saw stars dance across my vision. Pleasure twisted with confusion, my body floating in the shelter of Ekkire’s coils. Everything throbbed, pulsed, and suddenly felt sticky. My belly tingled, then cooled in a way that made me realize it was wet. Wet? How? I blinked the haze from my vision and glanced down, just as Ekkire abruptly began to rear above me. It was the start of a retreat, but he halted because I had yet to release his shoulder or the leg I’d hugged around his hip.

Now, that bit of naga education Vera insisted each human got upon arrival had warned me about the difference in his anatomy. That didn’t mean I was prepared. Ekkire’s cock jutted from a slit at his front, thick as my forearm, shockingly long, and a vibrant emerald. Here, he glowed with golden markings too. It was the tip that caught me off guard, though—split like his tongue, the dual head shifting and moving together. He dripped pearly white fluid, and more of it coated my bare belly. Much more of it.

My skin broke out in goosebumps, and the high of my orgasm began to fade as I registered what had just happened. I’d meant to simply kiss him, to test if I could handle that kind of intimacy without freaking out. I guess the answer was yes, because we’d exploded together. His seed coated my belly and the edge of my pants, but an answering wetness had soaked my panties. He’d made me come just by kissing, touching my breasts, and applying the barest pressure against my clit with that thick erection. Geez… Heat stained my cheeks as I lifted my eyes to his, bracing myself for rejection, for a comment about my easiness. Something scathing.

Ekkire’s eyes were wild and shocked, the scales on his back lifting and rattling with a whispering sort of sound. I knew it was an expression of a hunter’s unease, though they could also do that to vent heat. He was spooked, beyond spooked. He looked like a horse about to bolt.

“Hey,” I whispered. “Hey, are you with me? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I shifted my hand on his shoulder to touch the side of his face, and his eyes jerked to mine, the pupils so narrow they’d almost vanished in a sea of green. Then he shuddered and began to lower himself next to me, his coils shifting, twisting as he released them from around me. Even spooked, he was careful to keep my broken leg elevated and immobilized. It made my heart ache.

“I… Jasmine…” He was lost for words, but when he glanced down at the drying seed on my belly, I began to understand. Hadn’t Vera said something about how naga males were considered to behave shamefully if they showed their cock, and came, before their female allowed it? He reached down and roughly grabbed his still partially hard cock, pressing against it as if he intended to shove it back inside. That had to be painful. I winced.

“No, stop that!” I grabbed his hand and yanked it away, my wrist brushing the writhing tips by accident. A wet smear of seed coated it. “I’m human, not naga, and I don’t care. I mean, I do, but I liked it.” My words came out rushed, tumbling over each other. The scent of him was so intense now: sweet, salty, a bit like caramelized popcorn. I licked my lips, struck by the powerful desire to taste it.

He froze, staring at me with such confusion that I felt this surge of relief. He was definitely so new at all of this, and that made me feel safe. Releasing him, I shifted on the furs, then couldn’t resist the temptation and began raising my wrist to my mouth to taste it. The desire was so powerful, I didn’t think it through until I had almost done it. Whoa, what was I doing?

“I wasn’t supposed to respond that way…” Ekkire said, abruptly shaking off his shock. He appraised my sticky belly with a frown, but I saw the way his cock twitched and grew hard again. Oh, he liked it, he liked seeing me like this. An answering wetness rushed from my core, and I liked it too. His eyes lit, and his tongue darted out in rapid flicks. That wasn’t supposed to be hot, but it was.

I tried a casual shrug as I lowered my arm and tried not to inhale too deeply. It smelled fantastic—his seed—and I really didn’t want to give in to the temptation. “Me neither,” I breathed, “but I don’t regret it. Now help me clean up?” I was starting to feel awkward, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to taint this moment when it had felt so easy, so natural, so far. That was a win I wanted to cherish.

Chapter 13

Ekkire

I struggled not to grab my cock again and shove the misbehaving member back into its pouch. That would be painful, but it was what a naga female would expect of me. I had no idea how inflaming mouth-mating, a kiss, was going to be. That made me feel like an idiot, because it was in the name: mouth-mating. It implied some very primal things. Things I wanted to do again and again.

Jasmine lay out on the furs beneath me, her silky skin all mine to touch, and all of her secret places mine to taste. To fill, to seed. Agh… damn it, my cock was never going to go down if I kept thinking things like this. She looked too delectable, and so mine I struggled not to stake my claim even further. My seed covered her bare belly in ropes of white, more of it than I’d ever come before. My scent filled the air, covering hers, and that made me feel a very primal sort of satisfaction. No male would think she was unclaimed now.

“Wash, uhm, at least wipe it off so I don’t get cold? I assume we must preserve our water for now?” Jasmine’s quiet voice drew me from the primitive thoughts running through my brain. Cold? I looked down, saw the sight of my seed painting her flesh, and my cock twitched again, another spurt bursting from the tip with a rush of pleasure.

Groaning, I turned away so the sight wouldn’t further tempt me. “We can spare some water,” I told her, even though I wasn’t sure of it. She didn’t want to keep my seed on her and remain uncomfortable, and it was my duty to take care of her. I gathered the waterskin and a piece of cloth to clean her with. When I turned back, I was struck anew by the sight of her and shuddered. Ah, stars, she was so beautiful.

“I can do it,” she said, reaching for the cloth I’d carefully dribbled water on. I yanked it back, holding it high enough that she could not reach it. No, this was my task, my seed, and my female. I was doing this. She didn’t ask again, relaxing against the fur as I lowered the cloth to wipe the stickiness from her skin.

“How come you have these colored spots, little hunter?” I asked her as I gently cleaned her skin. Her belly was a soft, creamy white, but on the left side, dark blue and, in places, red or black mottled her flesh. “I do not believe I’ve seen other humans with spots like this.” I focused on the spots, not the way she felt beneath my fingers, or how she seemed all heat and softness at my touch—trusting me to take care of her, rather than biting and bristling in defense.

She blinked at me like I’d said something very confusing, then glanced down at where I was wiping her skin. She swallowed audibly, her small, round tongue darting out to wet her lips. My cock responded to that too, though I didn’t know why—only that it looked so tempting.

“Uhm, those spots are bruises, Ekkire. They’re from the earthquake. They’ll heal. I’m black and blue like that all over.” She said it very casually, almost like an afterthought, as if something else distracted her. A quiet horror settled in me, though, and finally the impossible desire still raging through me began to ebb.

I glanced at her hip and then at the many black-and-blue smudges that decorated her left side and both arms. I recalled the image of how she’d stripped the other night by the fire, too. How those discolorations had marked her legs, thighs, and shins. Those were injuries? How was she even moving? She had already been so badly injured and never said a word, never uttered a complaint! I knew what a bruise felt like, damn it, because naga bruised too, we just didn’t discolor from it. At least not in a visible way, as our scales covered any marks.

“Jasmine…” It was a moan that slipped from my mouth. I might have my raging body back under control thanks to this revelation, but it didn’t feel good. I’d let her walk back alone while she was hurt. “Why didn’t you say something? I could have… we shouldn’t have…” Oh, this female, she made me a mess inside. I’d always been bad with words, but around her, I was abysmal.

Her mouth quirked into a smile that was so soft and sweet I felt like I didn’t deserve it. “Hey, Ekkire, I could have said so, but I didn’t, and you didn’t know. Besides, it’s not serious, just sore. I’ve had worse.” Had worse? I reared back, horrified, and that made her raise a hand to her mouth and smother a laugh. Was that supposed to make me feel better?

“Sorry, what I mean is, I’m a tough girl. I didn’t say anything because I could handle it. I’m fine! Come on, let’s get this sorted so we can move. We need to find a way back to the surface so we can rescue your Sun Fang friends.” By the sacred streams and lakes; she still thought we could help those at the outpost? I began to shake my head, intending to tell her that the only thing we were doing was finding our way back to the sky wreck. Then I snapped my mouth shut and considered this.

She was a warrior, an archer with skills that rivaled those of Sun Fang, and they were the best archers around. If Zeidon told me he was fine, I would believe him in a heartbeat. Jasmine was asking me to do the same, to believe that she had judged her physical injuries correctly and knew her own strengths. I hated it, so much, but I lowered myself onto my coils and nodded.

“Yes,” I agreed, the word snapping out of me with a snarl. “We must find our way out as soon as possible.” I left it at that. My mouth set in a grim line as I finished cleaning the last of my seed from her flesh. Not so covered by mine, her own essence perfumed the air between us, tempting me to fall back into the powerful passion she’d evoked with her kiss. I reminded myself firmly of her injuries, her broken leg being the worst. No, I would not touch her again until she invited me.

Jasmine was terrible at sitting on the fur while I packed what supplies we had back into my backpack and checked the snares she’d somehow set out last night. She ate with a mutinous look on her face, feeding bits of meat to Dove, who fluttered around her feet with excited chirps. Clean, she’d pulled her shirt and fur coat back on, but she still looked uncomfortable. No wonder, even her backside had been covered by the dark marks. Bruises. I was fuming inside with the knowledge.

At least the sleep had restored my head to clarity and taken care of my bruised tail from the fall. “How long does it take for those bruises to heal? And the leg, how long does it take a broken bone to heal?” I demanded as I handed her Dove after the sleara had tried to get into my backpack a third time. The little animal chirped like she actually enjoyed being held, rubbing her head against my finger, and then all over Jasmine.

“Ah, the bruises take a week, probably a couple when they’re this black. The leg? At least six weeks, if nothing goes wrong.” Six weeks. Weeks. I needed to find her a Shaman, fast. I was not leaving her in that kind of pain for so long!

She protested vehemently when I picked her up, but at least she was practical enough to know we’d move much faster if I carried her. “Fine, but no coddling, Ekkire. I’m fine.” She was not fine, and after an hour of following my nose through the tunnels of this ancient cave, she knew it too. Her leg hurt, and even though I was very careful, moving simply wasn’t good for her. Sometimes I had to climb over debris, or the tunnel got so narrow we could only slip through it sideways. Those moments were tough.

A sheen of sweat clung to her brow, and the back of her neck was clammy too. Her mouth twisted into a fierce grimace, and her cheeks filled with a tinge of red. She was in pain, and she was struggling to mask it. “There’s nothing we can do about it,” she told me. “Just keep going. I think there’s a bit of light up ahead.”

We’d discussed our direction at each crossing carefully, debating our options before making a choice. I knew these types of tunnels, their basic layout. She brought interesting insights, such as the freshness of a scent, the breeze or lack thereof, and more. She was not wrong now, either; a sliver of light did appear to come from up ahead. We might have found our way out.

“You could chew some more Hura bark,” I suggested, and with my tail, I carefully pulled open the drawstring on the pouch I’d secured to my belt. I offered her a strip, and though she frowned, she took it. Dove had curled in her arms and now lifted her nose in the air as if she wanted to taste the bark. The sleara had an unhealthy obsession with anything stick-like. Nearly a dozen of her twigs hung in a bundle from the side of my backpack, just for her.

She wasn’t getting this bit of bark, though. With a laugh, Jasmine warned her away and quickly stuck the strip in her mouth. “Sorry,” she said, her cheek bulging. “That’s not safe for you. Find some other stick to claim.” The sleara fluttered off like she planned to do just that, screeching her distinct chirp kee kee sound as she did so.

“Come on, Ekkire. We can get our bearings outside.” I moved at her urging, following the pale shape of the sleara flying ahead of us in the dark. My sigils glowed gently, providing enough light that another light source wasn’t required. Definitely not for me, but even Jasmine didn’t seem to struggle in the soft light.

The Hura bark did ease her pain, slowly reducing her pallor. She seemed more alert as we went through this last narrow tunnel, her eyes scanning the doorways we passed and the shadowed interiors beyond. “I wonder what this place was. Are all old naga settlements underground, or in mountains like this?” I considered my answer very carefully, because unlike most, I had seen far more of what our ancestors had built.

Many clans considered entering a place of the ancestors taboo. Thunder Rock did, Bitter Storm even destroyed what they found, and Copper Spear and Sun Fang only trusted those places they knew of, but nothing else. Definitely not anything new. I’d been to Sereqethos a few times too, and they lived right on the edge of a massive oasis and an even more massive ancient city. Most of those buildings had been covered by sand, but that’s not how they were once built.

I didn’t talk easily, but when I opened my mouth to tell her about the things I’d seen, the stories came easily. It distracted her from her pain, and sometimes I even managed to make her laugh. It was common practice for Water Weaver males to share tales over campfires with those they met to trade, but I’d never been one of those. Sharing my journeys with Jasmine was easy, though, and then she surprised me by telling me some stories of her own.

She opened a world to me I’d never seen, never heard of, but that shared many similarities with Serant. I loved her descriptions of waterfalls of ice she’d once climbed, and she was talented at describing the mountains she’d climbed back on her world, “Earth.” Then she told me a story about a group of men she’d guided through her world’s wilderness. Men who kept making silly mistakes not even the smallest naga youngling would make. It was funny, but it was also disturbing when I realized she had been solely responsible for the lives of seven grown men. Men who’d attracted something as dangerous as a beast called a bear, apparently.

“You are the bravest female I know,” I swore solemnly. “I would have abandoned such idiots to their fate and been done with it.” I had no patience for idiots, and I spoke my mind if things annoyed me. This was why I was better off on my own.

Jasmine laughed, the sound smothered behind her hand, her pretty brown eyes dancing with mirth. “I came this close,” she admitted, lifting her thumb and forefinger and holding them close together. “That was definitely one of the silliest bunches I had the misfortune of taking under my wing. They paid well, though, and we made it back alive and unharmed.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then added, “And I know you wouldn’t have left them behind either. Tan their hides, yes; abandon them, no. That’s not in you, Ekkire. You’ve got too big a heart.”

We were both silent after that, but it was a very warm, companionable silence. I mulled over her words and could not place them. Big heart? She really thought that? I thought she underestimated my dislike for company and for stupid behavior. Jasmine was competent, clever, and had earned my respect. That made all the difference. Those men? I would have left them at the foot of that cliff, chased by the bear creature.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Jasmine said quietly. We were almost at the end of this tunnel, and the light at the end of it was getting brighter. Dove was circling around us, rummaging between rocks and in the dirt, foraging for insects and worms she found with her sharp nose. I had kept a careful eye on her to make sure we did not lose her.

“Am I?” I asked, my hands shifting to adjust her in my grip. I wanted to make sure her leg remained elevated so the swelling stayed down. Now that the Hura bark was working, I had to be extra careful in case she didn’t realize in time that something was wrong.

“Yes, you’re still thinking you would have abandoned them, but I know you wouldn’t. Just like you never abandoned me, and just like you’ve been trying to get to that outpost to help your friends there. You’re a good guy, Ekkire. I see it. I see you.”

She reached up, and her hand brushed the side of my face. She caught me completely by surprise when she leaned up and pressed her mouth to my cheek. The sensation lanced through my body, a path forming from cheek to cock like a flash of lightning. I groaned, my scales rattling in surprise along my spine. “Jasmine… what was that for?”

“Because I decided I like you,” she said. She liked me? “You’re not what I expected.” I didn’t know what to think of that, though she was not what I had expected either—in a good way. Now I wondered if this was what Zeidon had felt when he’d found his mate, Farah.

The exit loomed, however, so I focused on that. Debris littered the tunnel floor, and the last three doorways we passed had collapsed entirely, forever hiding what secrets their rooms might have held. We were very fortunate that carved arches strengthened the main tunnel we were in. Though cracks ran along the walls in places, it had held. The light at the end came filtered through a narrow slit; rubble and dirt had collapsed into the tunnel, almost entirely blocking it.

When we reached it, I flicked my tail through the soil and rock and concluded it might have been here a long time. The entrance had perhaps been further buried, but the earthquake had not started that process. I was going to have to dig us out, but that shouldn’t take long. Though I was big, I always managed to slip through surprisingly small holes. Jasmine was just a tiny little human; she might already be able to crawl out through the existing gap.

“Stay here,” I said, and lowered her to the ground, carefully settling her on the floor and laying out her splinted leg. “I am going to widen the gap and then scout,” I added, unease filling me at the thought of leaving the cover of the caves. I was not certain where on the mountain we were coming out, though I felt certain we’d traveled in the general direction of the outpost. If someone from Thunder Rock knew about this exit, unlikely as it was, they could be lying in wait outside.

Jasmine frowned. “I don’t have any arrows, but if you put me near the gap, I can still watch your back.” I eyed the empty quiver hanging from a strap on her belt and wondered about the wisdom of this. She was definitely a good shot, and I would gladly have her offer that kind of support. She was also badly wounded, and placing her on that uneven, unstable mound of rock and dirt wasn’t going to be good for her.

“I don’t scent anyone,” I assured her. “I don’t think we need to worry; it’s just a precaution.” I wracked my brain to come up with a solution that would make her feel useful. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I didn’t trust her or believe in her skills. Already, I could see that fury, that quick anger, sneak back into her gaze. She had so much to prove, this female. “I swear, Jasmine. I would say the same to any other hunter. I do not doubt your skills or your strength.”

Her shoulders slowly lowered, and then she nodded. “Fine. Go. Be careful, Ekkire.” I clenched my fists around my trident, worried I’d upset her anyway, but certain all the same that this was the right choice. Shrugging my backpack from my shoulders, I placed it next to her, and then I pulled out a ration bar and dropped it in her lap.

Her mouth tilted in a smile, and that finally made me leave. I slid up the crumbly slope, weapon at the ready, my body growing tense. I knew how unlikely it was that Thunder Rock knew of this exit. I didn’t, and I’d been in these hills far more than any of them. I braced myself for the worst anyway.

Chapter 14

Jasmine

I watched Ekkire slither through the narrow opening, and the tunnel became that much darker when he left. Not only because he took the warm glow of his golden sigils with him, but because now I was alone. Cradled against his wide chest, I had not felt cold, but sitting on the cold stone, it seeped into my skin. The stone rapidly cooled my body, though the warm fur coat blocked some of it. We had to be at a higher elevation, because this felt more like winter than spring.

“Where did you go, Dove?” I asked, casting my gaze around to search for the white shape of the small sleara. She was so small, not yet an adult, that she could easily slip into all kinds of nooks and crannies. Apparently, she ate bugs just as happily as the meat that Ekkire had hunted for her. She’d been scavenging for them the entire time we’d been traveling through this dark, underground maze.

These tunnels were nothing like the ones at Ahoshaga, where the rescued humans and their naga mates made their home. That place was warmly lit by glowing crystals in the ceiling. The hallways were pristine and polished to a sheen by the cleaning bots Corin had repaired. A control room operated an advanced climate control system, water supplies, and much more, too. I’d looked inside once and almost felt like I’d stepped onto the bridge of a spaceship. The med bay was also fully functioning, and so was the indoor plumbing—something even I thought was a blessing.

It was nothing like roughing it on a camping trip, or living with the barbaric clans that populated this planet. Very civilized, very advanced. The kind of place many of the girls were relieved to discover, as it kept them at the same level of comfort they were accustomed to. Or as close as was possible, at least.

This tunnel system seemed bigger; we’d traveled through it for hours before finding the way out. Yet not a single light crystal appeared to work, and much of it had collapsed or been damaged. Not all of it was from the recent earthquake, either; this system had been collapsing and decaying for a long time. I was not an archaeologist; I had no clue how old this tunnel system might be, but if I had to guess, I’d say at least several centuries, probably longer.

Water channels had eroded sections of the floor too, cutting it into irregular shapes. Markings on the walls made me suspect the water had, in the past, risen to chest height on me. So this section was prone to flooding. It made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when I noticed that. My recent experience with a flooded water channel, thanks to the earthquake, did not make me feel inclined to take another swim anytime soon.

Ekkire had vanished after widening the narrow gap, disappearing into the violet Serant daylight. It was hard to estimate the time based on just the sliver of light I could see, but I hoped there was still plenty of daylight left for us to resume our journey. Then I felt a pang of guilt. Those at the crashed ship must be worried sick, wondering if I’d survived or not. Now we were even further cut off from them, and from getting word to them. Zathar and Vera were going to be so mad I’d done this.

Then I pictured Jolene’s face: her freckled smile, the blue of her warm eyes, and her frizzy blond hair. Of everyone on this world, I’d say she came closest to being a true friend. She and I had worked as a team to keep the other women safe at the crashed ship. While I’d been rescued at the start of winter, she had been stuck on that ship. We’d only been reunited a few days ago, and she’d been so happy to see me. I was good at putting on a cheerful front to make people feel welcome, but Jolene, she was the real thing. She was going to be worried sick.

I heard the soft chirp kee kee of Dove somewhere nearby, muffled by dirt or rock she’d scurried under. A reminder that I wasn’t alone, even if I felt a heavy mix of guilt and abandonment right now. I should have told Jolene my plan, said goodbye. I wished Ekkire had taken me with him as he scouted, just so I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. That was not a good place to be. I was a stupid mess inside.

“Hey, Dove, where’d you go off to, sweetie?” I called. She was nearby not that long ago, I could hear her soft chirps. She hadn’t gotten stuck again, had she? Worried now, I shifted in my spot, but my leg made it nearly impossible to go search for her. Not when the slope of rubble and dirt was this uneven, and worse, extremely unsteady.

The chirp kee kee came again, from somewhere to my left. I shifted across the floor, dragging myself along with my hands very carefully. “Dove?” I asked again. There was a rock in the pile here that left a gap between it and the dirt. I peered inside but saw absolutely nothing. The lightsource was back in Ekkire’s backpack, several feet away. “Fuck,” I swore, because crawling back to get it felt like an insurmountable task.

“Chirp kee kee?” it came, but much louder this time, and from behind me. I turned, and to my surprise, Dove came soaring out of the tunnel on silent wings. She landed in my lap, tail wagging, and her round ears twitched back. She looked pleased, and incredibly cute. She also couldn’t have been the one who’d made the sound I’d heard earlier. My belly twisted, worry filling me. If that hadn’t been Dove, did that mean another sleara was trapped in the rubble somewhere?

I was beyond relieved when Ekkire showed up a moment later. He stuck his head in through the hole and blocked out most of the light. I still saw the bright, emerald glow of his eyes. “All is clear,” he announced. “I will come down to carry you and our supplies out. Then we will make you a new bow and arrows,” he announced. 

Normally, the promise of crafting me a new bow would have made me ecstatic. It barely registered this time. “Sssht, I think there’s a sleara stuck in this rubble somewhere. It must have gotten trapped in the earthquake, too.” Ekkire’s expression said he didn’t quite believe me, but he slid into the tunnel with his head cocked, eyes searching the rubble and then peering into the darkened crack I’d located.

“Hmm,” he said. That was it. No “oh, you might be right” or “are you certain?” Just a shrug as he lowered himself and began searching the nearby nooks and crannies, tilting his head left and right to get the best angle. If he could twitch his ears to help him locate sound the way Dove could, he would have. His tail brushed past my foot very casually, then the tip curled around my good ankle and clung. The sigils on his body immediately lit and provided light. “In there, I should think. Careful, he’s probably starving by now.”

The backpack was shoved almost into my lap with a coil. He was already reaching into the dark cranny he’d narrowed down as the likely spot. There were no more chirps now, but a soft hissing like that of an angry snake or a furious kitten. My hands fumbled with the pack, trying to pull out a ration bar, which was probably what he wanted.

A moment later, he yelped, then swore roughly, but when he pulled his hand from the cranny, he was holding a sleara. His finger was also bleeding. It was a slate-blue little guy, scrawny, clawing, and hissing in fury. Ekkire had a good grip on him, but it was definitely coming at a price. Even so, he did not release him. “Found him,” he said. He started to offer me the sleara, then seemed to think better of it.

I was a little relieved he didn’t hand me the furious creature. If it had already clawed open or bitten Ekkire until he bled, the sleara was going to shred my skin to ribbons. It didn’t calm down when I tried to offer it food, either. It glared with amethyst fury in its eyes, slate-blue fur standing on end and its wings flapping wildly. “You should let it go; we’ll have to hope he makes it on his own,” I said.

Just as the words left me, the small male sleara calmed, his eyes latching onto Dove. My skin broke out in goosebumps, and I flung my arms around my tiny, pale friend protectively. Was he looking at her like he wanted to eat her? Was that a thing? If a sleara was hungry enough? Did they eat their own? Some animals did that; the animal kingdom could be cruel.

Dove purred and rubbed her head against my hand, sitting all pretty with her wings folded against her back and her tail wrapped around her paws. She seemed entirely oblivious to the other sleara, not even batting an eye when he called out loudly with a chirp kee kee.

“Oh,” Ekkire said, “give me the ration bar. I’ll release him outside.” I flicked the ration bar into his outstretched hand, then suddenly found myself dealing with Dove’s latest find. She slipped from my lap to retrieve it, and dropped the soggy stick on my knee a moment later, eagerly chirping and wriggling her body, silver eyes swirling. She still wasn’t looking at the sleara Ekkire held, though I was certain she had to know he was there.

His tail unwound from around my ankle only at the very last moment, and then he slipped out of the tunnel and disappeared. I watched him go with mixed feelings, worried about the small male sleara and worried about Ekkire’s hand. It took him a while to come back, but I felt less alone now that Dove was here. She was eagerly playing fetch with the stick.

Her body was so much smaller than a dog or cat that it was both adorable and funny to watch. In fact, she was perhaps no bigger than an average-sized rat, though the wings made her seem larger, and her tail was much thicker. A tiny little winged bunny, hopping through the cave, glowing silver in the dark, and chirping in pleasure each time she got her stick. It was enough to melt anyone’s heart.

Eventually, Ekkire returned without the blue sleara male. He slid silently back into the tunnel and said absolutely nothing as he casually tossed the backpack up through the narrow hole. “Did it fly off?” I asked as he dipped to very carefully gather me in his arms. A tiny voice at the back of my head still wanted to protest that I didn’t need his help, but it was much smaller now. Ekkire didn’t think of me as weak or useless. I didn’t have to prove myself to him.

“He did,” the Water Weaver male agreed, his frown so fierce I briefly wondered if I’d done something to upset him. Then I recalled the blood I’d seen on his thumb; he was probably annoyed that the sleara had bitten him. Yeah, that was much more likely. I should probably have a look at that. Heck, that would give me the perfect excuse to fuss over him a little. For some reason, I rather liked that thought. Did anyone ever take care of Ekkire? I knew I didn’t let people in that way, but him? I didn’t think anyone even tried.

It was a very tight fit to squeeze through the hole while he carried me and Dove in his arms. The tiny sleara also didn’t help, clinging to the front of my coat with huge eyes, her wings stretched wide and partly in my face. Apparently, she’d forgotten how big and bright it was outside, because she abruptly burrowed beneath my collar and huddled there, the end of her new, now dusty rather than soggy, stick poking me in the throat.

“Your leg, did I jar it?” Ekkire asked when he finally managed to slide us through. He lifted with his tail, casually raising me several feet higher into the air. The break throbbed fiercely, and it was definitely getting worse again as the Hura bark painkiller wore off. I didn’t really feel like chewing on more of the bitter, musty bark, but I would. The last thing I wanted was to slow us down now.

“You didn’t; you were very careful,” I said. It was easier not to be so testy around him now. I mean, we were practically lovers after that bizarre and intense make-out session this morning. At Haven, I’d felt so trapped; I’d had my hackles up the entire time. Faking being friendly, snapping when I couldn’t, and spending all my time training and trying to get approved to go on hunts. As much as it sucked to have broken my leg and gotten bruised all over, I was feeling so much more like myself out here, with just him.

He didn’t reply, still looking furious, those spiky brow ridges lowered over his eyes. The emerald hue was practically glowing with some intense emotion, too. A feeling began to creep down my spine—apprehension, maybe. Had I upset him in some way after all? I began racking my brain and could only come up with the incident with the sleara. It had bitten him, but I really didn’t think that would have angered him this much. Not when he’d gone out of his way to feed Dove on several occasions.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I was a big girl; I could handle the answer. Besides, we’d built enough of a relationship that I could just ask that, hadn’t we? I actually cared about the answer. His eyes had been on the trees, searching, checking our surroundings. Now they snapped to my face, which began heating because I realized I’d been completely careless myself. I hadn’t checked anything but had relied entirely on Ekkire’s assurance the area was safe. Wow, did I really trust him that much?

“Nothing is wrong, little hunter,” he said. Not the first time he’d called me that, but the first time I heard the petname exactly for what it was: an endearment, not a slight. He called me little not because I lacked skill, but because I really was tiny compared to his massive body and long tail. Why wouldn’t he call me that? His voice had also grown softer, a little less snarly.

When I kept staring, he flicked out his tongue, the split tip briefly tasting the air before vanishing. “I am considering which tree has the best fresh growth to cut a bow rod from. That one seems likely, what do you think?” He pointed with the tip of his tail at a tree to my left. I gazed at it, noting that several new growths were the right thickness and a decent length. Unfortunately, I was not practiced enough yet to recognize if it was even the right tree.

“Okay? I’ve only been here one winter. I’m still learning about the local plants…” It came out sort of angry, and I winced. It wasn’t my fault I didn’t know enough yet. It was hard to get anyone to teach me when snow covered everything. Ekkire wasn’t going to hold that against me, at least, I didn’t think he would.

He didn’t even respond to my tone, well, unless you counted the way his mouth curled just slightly at one corner. “Very well.” He carried me across the rubble-strewn clearing just outside the tunnel toward the tree he’d indicated. Then he explained, in the surliest, gruffest tone ever, what I needed to know about wood selection for bows. It helped, that tone, weirdly enough. Ekkire just didn’t like to talk, and he was always a tad grumpy. He wasn’t put out having to tell me; I was pretty sure he’d sound like that talking to anyone.

When I indicated I definitely knew how to do the crafting part, he cut the branch he’d picked and handed me his knife. “I’ll sort the string,” he announced, and he left me right there, on the edge of the trees, with a knife and a stick of wood in my lap. It made me smile so widely I thought my cheeks might split. No questions, no guarded watching to make sure I knew what I was doing. He took my word for it, and he just went on to do his part. I was so happy right then, I almost broke out into song.

“No, Dove,” I warned when she stuck her head out of my coat and eyed my new bow staff with a glint of avarice in her mercury eyes. “This is my stick,” I warned her, “and it’s way too big for you.” I had to warn her away when she tried to put her teeth on the end, but she was quickly distracted by the curls of bark I began stripping from one side of the rod. Scuttling around nearby, chasing after each strip I cut off, she seemed to have gotten over her fear of the bright outside in a hurry.

When a chirp kee kee sounded from behind my elbow, she froze. We both turned to look and discovered a tiny gray-blue snout peeking out from under a nearby bush. The sleara, he hadn’t left. He looked very wary, something feral glinting in the bright amethyst of his eyes. “It’s okay, boy. I won’t hurt you, promise,” I crooned at him. That made him huff, and he disappeared back under the bush.

Dove had sat down again, with her wings folded and her tail curled. A very pretty, but also closed-off sort of posture. She had her head tilted studiously away from where the blue sleara had disappeared. One paw was perched on the last curl of bark she’d captured.

I thought he’d vanish now, and we’d never see him again, but a moment later he appeared beneath the bush again. A chirp drew my attention back to him, but Dove definitely still didn’t look. He lowered his small snout and nosed a stick forward, rolling it across the dry grass toward me. “Oh, a stick? Is it for Dove?” I asked, surprised. Don’t tell me there were two of them out here who enjoyed sticks. Dove was already being such a weirdo about it. The sleara at Haven all collected shiny things, or edible things.

Dove twitched, but when I said, “Look, Dove. He brought you a stick,” she finally looked. Her eyes grew large at the sight of the mossy, smallish twig, and she pounced on it with an excited skreee. Then she snatched it up and quickly scurried behind my knee for some very satisfied gnawing. I couldn’t be certain, but it looked to me like the small blue male was very satisfied with this.

He disappeared before I could try to entice him with food or perhaps a curl of bark. When Ekkire came back a short while later, there was no trace of him. My green hunter paused, however, and flicked out his tongue. “Did he come back?” he asked, surprised but sounding hopeful.

“Yeah,” I said. “He brought Dove a stick. Do you think he’s trying to court her? Aren’t they both still a little young?” Dove was so small compared to Kiwi and Buzz back at Haven. The blue fellow was only slightly bigger than her, definitely young as well.

Ekkire shrugged. “Juveniles, yes. They are both from nests hatched during winter. They’re both alone, though, and sleara like to flock. He’s probably trying to entice her to be part of his flock.” Hmm, interesting. Too bad Dove seemed more interested in the stick and my presence than anyone else. Poor fellow. With a pang of guilt, I realized I hoped he wouldn’t actually entice Dove away from me. I really liked her company, though it was probably better for her if she was with her own kind, wasn’t it?

“Here’s your string. Do you want to twist it into shape yourself?” He offered me the gathered fibers but didn’t quite lower them into my lap yet. I considered that, but in the end decided he’d done a perfectly fine job last time. We’d be quicker if he did that task.

“How’s your finger?” I tried after we’d worked in silence for a little bit. Dove had settled with her gifted stick, taking far longer with it than I’d ever seen her take with one. Like she was savoring this one a little extra. “The sleara bit you, didn’t he? I saw blood.”

Ekkire froze, eyes dropping to his lap, the string that was beginning to take shape draped across the glimmering green coils of his tail. Then he lifted his hand and flexed it in front of me. “I’m fine. It was a small nip that broke the scales on my thumb, but it will heal.” He showed me the wound, and it was indeed a very small cut straight through the paler green along the pad of his thumb, partially covered by the sharp black claw jutting from it.

“Okay, good. Do you know where we are? What’s our course of action now?” I pointed at the sharp, rising flank of the mountain next to us. We’d come out of it from deep below, having traveled a significant portion through the ancient tunnel system. There was no sign of the wetlands or the crashed ship. The mountain peak Ekkire had been anxious to reach, however, was much closer. It loomed beyond the trees and would perhaps only take us another day, at most, to reach.

“I think,” Ekkire said slowly, his busy hands stilling as he focused on my face. “I think we should travel to the outpost together, look for survivors first. Sun Fang would have sent help too if they could spare it; a healer will be with that party.” I knew why he said that, but I bit my lip and wasn’t reassured. Hadn’t Sun Fang been part of the gathering attack force? Hadn’t they switched sides to join with Thunder Rock to destroy the ship?

And what about the people from Haven? A very large part of me just wanted to stay with Ekkire, to keep this easy company with a man—a male—who didn’t coddle. That was so selfish, though, when Jolene and those at the crashed ship would be so worried. Worse, I hadn’t even checked again to make sure that everyone had survived. I should have asked that when we discovered he could understand me after all.

“I would like that,” I said carefully. “But what about the hunters at the crashed ship? I don’t want them to think they have to search for me.” Zsekhet and Joxra would be worried; Corin would have communicated with Zathar, and then everyone at Haven—especially Jolene—would be distressed. I did not want them to think I was dead.

“Oh, I sent them a message; they know you’re with me,” Ekkire said casually. “Ready? Shall I string it?” I wordlessly handed him the bow I’d just carefully carved. I hadn’t quite finished tapering the ends, but it bent right, I thought. Much heavier than the bow Ekkire had made for me before, but not so heavy I couldn’t work it while injured. He’d sent a message? What was he talking about? I couldn’t quite picture it, because in my book, sending a message tended to involve a device, and I was pretty sure he didn’t own anything that complex.

“I made a kite with a note and sent it up where they’d see it. They must have found it by now. Don’t worry. Unless…” He hesitated, and something dark flashed in his eyes. “You wish to return to Joxra?” he asked. The possessive growl curling through the air between us instantly turned the mood dark, laden with untold things. Claims.

“Joxra?” I sputtered, confused. “No, I barely know the guy. I just want to make sure my friend, Jolene, isn’t super worried about me back at Haven.” It felt nice to call her my friend, that’s what she called me, wasn’t it? The more I thought about it, the more certain I became that Jolene considered me one of hers. I really didn’t want to cause her stress; she’d just been through so much herself. I wanted her to make her home at Haven with the guy she’d fallen in love with and his adorable kids. She needed to do that, guilt-free. She deserved it.

“Oh… He’s not your, uh… He was very concerned for your safety, so I thought…” Very abruptly, he cut himself off and shook his head. His hands had worked even as he’d struggled to speak, carving the ends of my bow and attaching the string. He tested its pull, then handed it to me with a grimace. “Never mind that. If you are not opposed to traveling to the outpost and perhaps accepting healing from the Sun Fang Shaman, we will do that.”

“Ekkire,” I said, that smile, that bright burst of happiness from earlier, coming back. “I’d love that. And for your information, there’s nothing and never has been between me and Joxra, okay? He was probably feeling guilty because he allowed me to come, knowing Zathar forbade me… He’s a bit of a rebel, you know?”

“Oh… I see.” The small section of tail he had curled around my ankle squeezed, just the slightest bit. He still frowned, but I was pretty sure my answer had pleased him.

Chapter 15

Ekkire

I hated how transparent I’d been about the situation with Joxra. My instincts to claim her, to dislike any male who might be a rival, were so strong. I had underestimated how much the drive to mate with her would influence me. It was almost impossible to resist her because she was so… independent, and I admired that very much. Her smile was a delight too, and it kept startling me how incredibly beautiful she was. This small, exquisite female couldn’t possibly be mine, could it?

Now I was even more caught in her trap, simply because she’d strung her bow with such capable hands. She had done it exactly as I would have, and she’d been quick, too. It was clearly something she’d done more than once, and as she fine-tuned the weapon, it was obvious she knew the ins and outs of archery.

It struck me then that taking her to Sun Fang was a risky move. The archers from that clan were the best in Serant. What if one of them caught her eye? She said she did not want to feel trapped, that she did not want a mate for those reasons. What if she’d changed her mind? I did not think Jasmine had a mean bone in her body; she was much too kind. But she was a female, and females did not feel the mate bond the same way males did. She could leave me and think nothing of it. I had not convinced her yet that I wanted her, that I did not think I could let her go now that I knew her. Think? No, I knew it.

She’d requested another Hura strip to chew before we’d set out, and I’d felt terrible for not realizing her pain was getting worse again. She was so good at hiding it, especially when sitting still, with her leg slightly elevated and the cast keeping the break securely immobilized. I was running low on the concentrated bark concoction too, and switching to the fresh stuff was not as good. It got stronger with drying, but that took months. Perhaps I should cut strips from a tree when we crossed one anyway, just to make sure I could replenish what we’d used.

“How many arrows did we manage before we had to go?” Jasmine asked me. She had curled her arm around my neck and was actively looking around. The Hura bark had perked her back up, giving her strength now that the pain wasn’t overpowering everything. We’d only taken a short moment to craft some very simple arrows, the wooden tips hardened in a small fire I’d stoked for just that purpose. She’d also had a cup of warm tea, and though I hadn’t needed it, I’d had some too. The skin of her ankle had felt too cold for my liking.

“Six,” I answered, which was the bare minimum. With this more powerful bow, I had no doubt she’d do serious damage. It might be enough if we encountered trouble. I was extra vigilant as we traveled anyway, worried that Msera might be persistent enough to keep looking. Perhaps he believed we’d both died in that fall, or that I had and it would spell the end for Jasmine anyway. Yet I could not shake the feeling we had not seen the last of him.

“Okay, I can work with that,” she muttered, but she sounded troubled. That smoothed away when she began filling the quiet with questions. Not in an annoying way, but thoughtful ones. “What tree is that? What do you use it for?” And so on. Each time a plant or feature of our surroundings piqued her interest, the questions came. She was trying to learn, and as fast as she could. My Jasmine did not like feeling vulnerable; she controlled her world by knowing exactly how to use it.

After a while, I could predict her next questions, and I found myself quietly pointing out the less obvious things: the still-budding Exar berry shrubs by the edge of a small stream; mushroom veins glittering faintly on the side of a tree, not yet fully sprouted. That would have to wait until the next rainfall. The little things, the things that could make all the difference if she was ever forced to survive on her own.

“Hey, Ekkire,” she said in a hushed tone after we’d been traveling a while. “Am I imagining it, or is that blue sleara following us?” She was not imagining it. I’d sensed him for some time, fluttering overhead, though keeping his distance. Sometimes he’d land and watch us from a high branch or hidden beneath a bush, but he was definitely following. Watching. He should have been hunting to feed himself, but he was hunting us instead. Or maybe it was Dove he was after.

I’d caught a small rodent for Jasmine’s white sleara earlier, and with her belly full, she was content to sleep on Jasmine’s chest. The small female was entirely oblivious to her surroundings, clutching a gnawed-on, mossy twig to her chest. It smelled like dead things, which was probably why she liked it.

“He thinks he can still entice the female,” I answered. “He can try, but she seems thoroughly bonded with you.” It was uncanny how powerfully some of these sleara appeared to bond with a human, or even another naga. Buzz was all Farah’s, but he was extremely fond of Zeidon too. I had always believed there was something special about Zeidon that made animals like him—a natural gift he had. Now, I began to wonder if I had just not given any of the animals around me enough thought.

“When we make camp tonight, I will leave some food out for him,” I added. He’d devoured my ration bar in only three bites, but I wasn’t certain whether that was because he liked it or because he was that hungry. Dove certainly showed no interest, but the diet of slearas covered a very wide range of things.

She reached up to pat my cheek, but she was quieter after that. I worried because she’d gone pale too, and a red hue marked the slopes of her cheeks. She felt hot at the back of her neck, beneath her hair, and I was very tempted to flick my tongue against her forehead. When very sick, one could get a fever, was that what was happening? I needed to find her a healer, but we were now so far from the sky wreck that it would take us days to reach it. I was beginning to worry it wasn’t just about pain now; she might not have days if she was getting a fever.

“There is still a little Hura bark left. Do you want it?” I asked her. She shook her head, telling me to save it, and my worry only increased. Was she being tough, or concerned it was going to get worse and she’d need it then? I started to open my mouth to ask, though I struggled to find the right words. I’d never been so concerned about another person’s well-being before. A sound that definitely wasn’t from the sleara reached my ears.

A voice. At least, I thought it might be one, but it was just the faintest murmur. I froze and cocked my head to listen, while searching the air for any new scents. The wind came from above us, channeled down through the pass. It meant anything coming from behind us was hard to detect, but it wasn’t impossible. I feared Thunder Rock warriors right away, and that meant we needed to take precautions.

“Jasmine,” I whispered, “there might be company. I’m going to put you somewhere safe with a vantage point. I’m trusting you to watch my back while I check it out.” There was a ridge with some elevation to my left; it was partially shrouded by bushes that had already started to sprout a fairly dense cover of leaves. Their soft, purple fronds would serve well to hide her, but there was another reason I picked the spot.

“Bruise these,” I said, tapping the leaves as I carefully set her down. I shrugged out of my backpack and hid it next to her. She immediately did as I said, not questioning my instructions, and a slightly pungent, powerful scent began to fill the air. It would mask her scent, at least for a short while, but I hoped that was all we’d need.

She was definitely warm to the touch, and I really did not like that. All action, she’d stuck her arrows in the dirt in front of her for easy access while sitting, and she’d already notched one of the six to her bow. Her eyes focused on the way we’d come, searching the trees for any sign of danger. “Thunder Rock?” she asked as I fussed with her broken leg, carefully propping it on a fur I drew from my bag to make sure it was supported correctly.

“Yes, perhaps, though there’s another possibility.” It could also be the Sun Fang war party—those who had survived the earthquake near the sky wreck. They would have seen what I had: the rock slide that had swallowed their outpost. If I were their leader, I’d rush to render aid and forget all about a war with sleeping humans and a distant clan of outcasts. It surprised me they’d been willing to join with Thunder Rock in the first place; this kind of thing might have swayed their sentiment… or it might not have. Did they still want to get rid of the “invading” humans or not?

“Go, I’m good. If they try anything, I will shoot them. This bow’s accuracy is probably best within a hundred and fifty feet, though. Don’t go too far.” She pointed at a section of trees clearly visible below her hiding place. From here, she’d have a great vantage point while still staying hidden. Yes, it was the right spot to wait for the approaching naga. I could taste their scents now and was certain they were coming.

With only my trident in hand, I prepared to face them. Jasmine caught my arm before I could slip away. “Good luck,” she muttered, and then she drew me down and pressed a quick kiss to the edge of my jaw. It shot sensation through me, sending my head spinning. As I slid down the hill, covering my tracks to circle to the spot Jasmine had indicated, all I could feel was her mouth on my scales.

I needed to focus, and I reined in my spiraling thoughts with a tight grip. Jasmine’s life could very well depend on how this went; I couldn’t make a mistake. Bracing myself, my trident at the ready, I waited. Their scent was coming to me now that they were closer, and the murmur of voices was more obvious. Male—definitely naga—and with the lilting accent of Sun Fang, if I wasn’t mistaken. That was good, but I didn’t relax. All of this depended on how they responded when they discovered Jasmine was here.

My little hunter had tucked Dove into the front of her thick fur coat, and the little sleara had let her. During her confrontation with Msera and his friends, Dove had valiantly tried to protect Jasmine. Would she try the same this time if this became a conflict? I feared it would be fatal for her if she tried. Unlike the Thunder Rock warriors, whom she could avoid by soaring into the sky, a Sun Fang warrior could shoot her down in a heartbeat.

The slightest rustle to my left reminded me there was another element in the mix. The blue sleara was hanging around too, and rather than watch Jasmine and Dove, he’d chosen this moment to focus on me. He was to my left in a tree, watching with sharp eyes what I was doing. As a reminder, the small cut on my thumb throbbed. He was a fierce fighter, but he was still weakened from hunger, and I doubted he’d be on my side. “Stay put, Hunter,” I quietly told him anyway. “If this becomes a fight, I don’t want you to get hurt.” He hissed, as if this only angered him.

The approaching Sun Fang warriors started to resolve into more distinct shapes across my senses. At least a dozen voices; scents that varied from leather, scales, oil, to the notes that made up individuals. I was not as familiar with these males as I was with those of Thunder Rock, but only because I’d visited Thunder Rock more recently. One scent I did recognize: that of the Sun Fang Shaman’s apprentice. Him, I knew well, and I was surprised to discover he was here. He was the last male I’d expect to have agreed to harm the humans; there couldn’t be a more gentle soul alive.

They had caught my scent too, and the sound of their voices changed, then fell silent. A moment later, one of them emerged from beneath the trees, by silent agreement sent to scout. He was a tall male with a long streak of orange down the side of his tail. The dark brown of his scales glimmered with lush reds and yellows at the edges along his chest and shoulders, then grew muted on his arms and back. He had deep black hair braided back from his temples and twisted into a knot at the back to avoid tangling with the bristling arrows jutting from his quiver. His brow ridges were also a dark black with a highlight of orange, and from beneath them he locked his orange eyes on me right away.

“Water Weaver, what are you doing here?” he called out, the loud call as much for the benefit of his brothers as it was to greet me. Every naga knew a Water Weaver was no enemy; we were welcome everywhere, and while skilled hunters, we never fought for territory or warred with other clans. No clan wanted to offend us, lest we refuse to bring our trade to their females, and Water Weaver fabrics were coveted by all.

“I saw the rock slide that must have devastated your outpost. I have been on my way in the hopes I can offer assistance.” My explanation made the male break out in a wide, welcoming smile, his eyes sparkling. He lowered the bow he’d held in one hand, the arrow he’d had notched vanishing without a trace. From the trees behind him, the others began approaching, no longer cautious but eager to see who I was. Immediately, I recognized a few faces, though the distinctly colored male in the lead was new to me.

“Ekkire!” That was the Shaman’s apprentice calling out. He waved his hands, all smiles. The deep yellow of his scales and hair made him stand out, but that was the nature of Shaman placements all across Serant. Shamans, and their students, went where the council assigned them. He had a wild mane of curly hair that bloomed around his head like rays of sunlight. The kind of male everyone could not help but like, because he was so friendly and outgoing. He was a lot, but even I found myself smiling at his jovial greeting.

Ishmakah rounded on the nearest Sun Fang archer and approached with his arms outstretched, as if he intended to hug me, and I began to rock back on my tail instinctively. I liked him, sure, but not that much. I really preferred it if nobody invaded my space. Well, except Jasmine. I’d carried her all day, and I actually missed having her in my arms. Though you’d have to twist my arm to get me to admit it, I might even miss the soft little snoring noises Dove made when she slept.

The Sun Fang male in the lead, with his unusual colors, held out an arm and physically blocked Ish’s path. “Hang on, Ishmakah. He smells like a human. Why do you have the stink of a human clinging to your scales, Water Weaver?” he demanded. The previously welcoming look was replaced with one of deep distrust.

A shiver shot down my spine, which I managed to hide. It was so rare to meet hostility anywhere I went; I simply wasn’t used to the reaction. I knew that, seeing it was a Sun Fang party, revealing Jasmine was inevitable. Not that I wanted to, but there were too many of them, and we’d been traveling in the same direction. I had to convince this male he had nothing to worry about, and that his dislike of the strange sky beings was misplaced.

“Ilesekh!” Ish said, shocked. “That hardly matters now, does it? Do you not think it was a sign from the heavens that your path was ill-chosen? Disaster struck the moment we agreed to meet at Thunder Rock.” The apprentice flung his hand first in the direction of the ravaged outpost, then back down the mountain flank to where the sky wreck was located.

I knew Ish was not a superstitious man—no shaman was—but, like Thunder Rock, Sun Fang was. It took some slick navigating of their often strange beliefs from time to time. I’d been confronted with it when trading at their main settlement before, and had similar issues at Thunder Rock. They really didn’t want anything to do with the fabrics you carried if they thought you’d traveled with them through an ancestral cave, for example.

This Ilesekh hissed, his eyes narrowing at me, and when he moved forward, his body carried all kinds of hostility. He reached for the knife on his hip, rather than the deadly bow he carried. I shifted my trident protectively in front of me, but that did not halt his motion. Why would it, when the rest of the Sun Fang party shifted forward aggressively with him?

With a screech, the blue sleara abruptly launched himself from the branch above my head. I thought it was getting too dangerous for him and he was simply fleeing. A dozen eyes went up to track his flight, several hands lifting bows as if they couldn’t help themselves. The sleara would barely make a good meal, as small as he was, but they tracked him anyway. Then he dove, plummeting from the sky with his claws outstretched. He was headed directly for the Sun Fang leader, and I reacted instinctively.

“Hunter!” I called out, not certain whether I was calling to the sleara or the male he was attacking. My tail whipped out just as arrows flew, and the knife Ilesekh had pulled slashed toward me. I was too late to stop the knife, but my tail caught the barrage of arrows before they could strike the sleara. I roared in pain as half a dozen obsidian tips cut through my scales and buried deep.

The sleara chirped and darted sideways, then landed on my shoulder and ducked beneath my hair to hide, trembling violently. After that, everyone froze—the dust settling, bows lowering, confused glances shared. “Did that… sleara just try to defend you, Ekkire?” Ishmakah asked tentatively. Then his eyes dropped to the six or so arrows sticking out of the tip of my tail, and I saw him mouth: Did you just defend the sleara?

I reached up to check my ribs, but there was no knife wound, and when I looked at Ilesekh I discovered his blade was simply gone. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, shock written all over his dramatically marked face. Then he flicked his hand to my left, pointing at a nearby tree trunk, and several gasps went up.

“Who shot that arrow?” he demanded. Coiling back on his tail, he raised himself higher to glare at the males gathered behind him. Scai, Srahyi, Misha, three males I knew to be amazing archers. Others I did not know, but I had no doubt were just as skilled. Anyone of them could have pulled off that shot, except they were very much in the wrong place to have done so. I knew there was only one person who could have, and she’d done it to protect me.

“Look at the fletching, Ilesekh. It’s not ours…” Srahyi pointed out with a deep frown. His orange eyes flicked from the arrow that had pinned Ilesekh’s knife, by its woven handle, to a tree, then traced the path it must have taken straight to the ridge where Jasmine was hiding.

“You have backup lying in wait, Water Weaver?” Ilesekh demanded, still furious. He balled his fist and flexed it, but it appeared completely unmarked. Jasmine had shot it right out of his grip without harming him. Clever female. She had protected me without jeopardizing a potentially peaceful resolution. That took skill, that took thinking, and all of it had happened in the blink of an eye.

I rolled my tail, the arrows bristling from my abused flesh. “And I needed it, what is this? Shooting a peaceful trader who offers you help!” Ishmakah shook his head in dismay and immediately lowered himself next to my wounded tail, hands reaching for his satchel to pull out the healing tool he could slide over his palm. I trusted Ish, so I left my tail with him, certain it was in good hands. It hurt, those arrows, but I would do it again if they tried anything. The sleara quivered against my neck, still shaken from his brush with death.

That was curious. I thought I could not understand the bond Jasmine had with Dove. I did not mind the company, or the extra burden of feeding her, but I did not think I needed it. When Hunter huddled against me for safety and comfort, that felt good. I felt like I’d saved someone very important, and he gave me loyalty in turn. He’d dived to protect me; that was just as baffling to begin with. Why would the sleara do that? We hadn’t gotten off to a good start, and all I’d done was feed him a ration bar and then release him.

When Ilesekh moved toward me again, it was with less hostility, his chin tilted down to his neck in what was almost a submissive, apologetic gesture. That did not seem to matter to Hunter, who stuck his head through my hair and hissed furiously in his face. “Easy, Hunter, easy. I don’t think Ilesekh here intends to sink another knife in my side, am I right?” The last I aimed at the Sun Fang leader, and he lowered his head even further, the horn on his chin dipping toward his vulnerable throat.

“No, I will not,” he agreed. Spreading his hands, he began the expected apologies, the rushed words to assure me Sun Fang would never be hostile to Water Weaver males and their oh-so-valuable trade. No, he’d realized right away that he might have just incurred the wrath of every female in his clan by attacking me. I could see on the faces of the males behind him that they were equally dismayed by that prospect. Those who had actually struck me with one of their arrows might be feeling even more concerned I’d hold it over them.

Ish broke the shaft of the first arrow without warning, and a wave of pain burned through my tail. I hissed, “Warn me, Ish. Damn it. It’s been a while since I was last shot…” He tilted his head, yellow face filled with even brighter eyes and the widest, sunniest smile I’d seen in a while. Then he bent right back over my tail and snapped the next arrow in his fist.

“I smell of human,” I said then, while they were all still feeling apologetic. “Because my backup is human,” and then I pointed at the arrow pinning Ilesekh’s knife to the tree. I let that sink in for a second, eyes growing wide, mutters rippling through the group. A human? Yeah, they really didn’t like the idea that some human had shot an arrow with the same sort of skill level they demanded of their hunters. A skill some here might even be hard-pressed to rival. I knew I was; I could not have replicated that shot. I was certain of it.

“Well, where is he then? Bring him out, we must meet this human archer,” Ilesekh barked, his arms crossing over his chest, disbelief coloring his features.

“She,” I said smugly, “and I will bring her out if you swear she has safe passage. She is not here to harm any of you. In fact, she came with me to aid your kin, just like I did.” Then I looked straight at Ish. “And I would consider it a personal favor if you could heal her.”

Chapter 16

Jasmine

My heart was in my throat the entire time Ekkire faced off against that group of naga males. They were all carrying bows and quivers filled to overflowing with arrows. This was not the average hunting party I’d seen come and go at Haven. These guys hung out in my neck of the woods, so to speak. They were archers, which meant my hiding spot on the ridge was not safe. As soon as I shot an arrow, they’d know where I was and return fire. I would not survive a hail of arrows.

Then I’d gone and given away my position anyway. That guy had tried to stab Ekkire, though, and I couldn’t let that happen. My hands were shaking as I held my bow, the wood creaking in my grip. It didn’t help that Dove had nosed her head out of my coat and was now severely distressed that Ekkire, or perhaps the blue sleara, had gotten hurt.

Ekkire though, I was definitely well past the point of liking him and starting to head into “I have a crush on him” territory. He’d allowed himself to get shot with no less than six arrows to protect the sleara. That was crazy! I wanted to yell at him for doing that and kiss him all over to show how much I appreciated it at the same time.

The tension had begun to ease in the group, and I was impressed by how Ekkire had defused the situation. Their leader had started to attack, the sleara had derailed things, and now my Water Weaver guy was solidly in control. It was… hot. He had them right where he wanted them. It made me realize how much power he had, which was surprising. What was it that had suddenly made them bend over backward to apologize? This was about trade, something Ekkire had that they needed.

I tried again to remember what I knew about the Water Weavers, but came up short. Either I hadn’t paid attention to Vera, or she hadn’t mentioned them. Why would she? There had only been one of them at Haven, and he was already mated.

Then he dropped the biggest bomb: that a human had protected him, and that I was female. That seemed to stun them more than anything, but after a brief pause, I was granted sanctuary status. It was the male that stood out—bright, canary yellow—that prompted the obnoxious knife guy to do it. But once I had it, all weapons lowered, and the males began to lower their backpacks and sit down to wait.

I wasn’t moving, though. No way. I mean, not only was my broken leg going to make that impossible, but Ekkire was wounded now too. Six bloody arrows jutted from the narrow tip of his tail. Well, three at this point, because the yellow guy was working on them. He’d slipped a healing device over his hand, so I could only assume he was a Shaman, like Artek.

That was good, very good, because I was pretty sure an infection had started. Adrenaline had sharpened my mind during this altercation, but the fever was already beginning to make me foggy and too hot again. “We’re going to be okay,” I whispered to reassure myself. I hated being vulnerable, and now there was a whole new group of males to prove myself to while I felt like I was at my absolute worst, injured, dirty, tired.

Reaching up, I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. My vision was growing gray at the edges. Below in the clearing, Ekkire told the Shaman to snap off the arrow shafts and leave the wounds for now. I sagged back against the rock behind me rather than watch what happened next, but I knew anyway. Ekkire was too good a guy not to send the Shaman for me right away, at the cost of his own injuries.

My eyelids began to sink shut, lowering in a slow blink. When I opened them again, Ekkire was right next to me, his pretty green face full of concern, and a second pair of eyes peeking at me from beneath his hair. Oh… that’s where the sleara had gone. I guess that meant we had two now, wasn’t that cute?

“Come here, little hunter. Help is not far now,” he said huskily. His hands were careful as he lifted me from the ledge, yet pain scorched through me anyway. My leg felt like it was on fire, but my foot felt numb. In the back of my mind, I vaguely worried a nerve had gotten pinched or damaged; most of me, however, was consumed with the pain. I bit my lip until it bled, holding in the scream that wanted to break free.

“Fuck, Ekkire!” I let out anyway. “I think the leg is a goner. They’re gonna have to amputate.” I was making no sense now, but the feverish thoughts made it hard to think. It was bad, I knew that, but there was a healer right here. It did not make me feel any calmer, and then more pain came in a throbbing, rolling wave. I’d done too much, asked too much of myself, and this was the price I was paying. My body had had enough.

“We are not amputating anything, sweet one. Ish will help you, won’t you, Ish?” Ekkire’s voice was calm and soothing, and the warm wash of his golden sigils felt calming too. The color felt like safety now, something I could trust to protect me. I rolled my head to press it against his shoulder and was promptly licked at the edge of my hairline by a small blue mouth. I must have looked bad if even the feral little guy was offering me sympathy.

The bright yellow face of the Shaman from this Sun Fang party appeared in my field of view. He was beaming so brightly that not just the color of his scales was blinding. If he was in charge of my healing, at least I had no doubt he was eager to do so. Maybe he didn’t mind me being human as much as the others. There had to be hostility, and I braced myself for it; after all, this party of hunters had decided they’d rather join Thunder Rock in eradicating the humans on the crashed ship. They weren’t my friends, even if Ekkire had elicited an offer of sanctuary from them.

“No,” this guy, Ish, hurried to say as he swung his gaze along my body. “We are not amputating anything, I promise.” Then he halted and lifted equally bright yellow eyes to Ekkire’s face. “She can’t understand me, can she? Can she understand you?” He seemed curious rather than worried I’d bite his head off or infect him with some kind of disease. That’s what I imagined the naga feared in dealing with us, the ones that were hostile.

“She can understand all of you,” Ekkire announced, loud enough that it was clear he intended the statement to carry to all of the warriors. My hazy head caught up with the situation then. The majority had sat down, their tails coiled around their bodies and gear. Their leader was slithering back and forth through the dry grass nearby, watching me with deep suspicion on his curiously colored orange-and-brown face. The only one not staring in a way that made my skin crawl was the Shaman.

I bit back another scream when Ekkire and the healer began lowering me onto a fur spread across the ground. My leg was on fire, and black spots danced in front of my eyes. I held the scream in, though, because with that many people staring at me like I was a curiosity, I wasn’t going to put on a show. Just as it seemed we’d made it, my body settling into an awful, prone position on the ground, Dove decided to make her move.

She leaped from the collar of my coat with a little screech, wings flapping wildly. Then she barreled toward the Shaman and struck him square in the face with her claws outstretched. “Dove, no!” I yelled, trying to reach for the little sleara who surely thought she was defending me. Too late, and my body was definitely too slow. She’d drawn blood. The Shaman yelped, rearing back on his tail until he towered over me. Everyone was moving again, reacting, but my body was too tired to do anything else. I collapsed on the furs with a pained moan I definitely could not hold back anymore.

Ekkire caught my little friend in both hands, pulling her off the Shaman’s face and cuddling her against his chest. The Sun Fang leader shouted, furious, “What is it with these beasts? Have they gone mad?” That would have been funny if I wasn’t in pain and terrified for Dove’s life. I knew my guy had her, but could he keep hold of her without hurting her? What if the Shaman struck back? He was bleeding from several gashes on his forehead and cheeks; it looked like she’d absolutely shredded him!

“She was only defending her friend,” Ekkire explained, still struggling to keep hold of the trembling Dove. His tail had slipped free of me in the chaos, and the glow of his sigils had faded. He wouldn’t understand me if I spoke now, but more importantly, I really just wanted him to hold me.

Dove did her “chirp kee kee” so loudly that I winced, but it got the other sleara moving. I’d forgotten he was still there, but now he slipped from Ekkire’s shoulder and flew a circle around us. I could see the Shaman tense up, ready to fend off another attack, but the blue guy didn’t strike. He landed awkwardly on Ekkire’s arm, chirping, cooing, but Dove still didn’t settle. I tried talking to her too, urging her to calm, to settle down. It didn’t seem to convince her I was all right… When the blue guy leaped to the ground, picked up a small twig, and tried to fly back up to offer it to her, she finally stopped screeching, snatching the stick from his mouth, then twisting to lean over Ekkire’s elbow to peer at me with huge, silver eyes. “It’s okay, sweetie. Come chew on your stick over here.” I patted the fur beside my hip weakly.

It was a risk, but Ekkire seemed calm as he released Dove. She fluttered to the spot on the fur I’d patted, rubbing her head against my hip. Then she laid down her new stick, perched a paw on it possessively, and smoothed out some ruffled fur. To my surprise, she did not rebuff the slate-blue sleara when he landed next to her and began grooming her too. I’d been so distracted, staring, that I had not even realized the Shaman had bent back over my leg and resumed his assessment like nothing had happened. He did not even tend to the bloody scratches on his abused face.

Warmth washed over my leg as he powered the healing device around his hand with his mind. At least, that’s how I figured it was working, because there were no handy buttons. These were not the healing devices I recalled from my doctor’s office. The heat bathing my break pushed out the deep, throbbing pain, and my brain began to feel a little clearer.

“How did her leg break?” the healer asked, his tone conversational, a bit distracted. He had all his focus on my leg, which I found immensely reassuring. He was a very big naga, bigger than Ekkire, bigger, in fact, than anyone else present. I could see that as I gazed around and took in the many staring faces. He was like a bear with yellow scales and a massive pile of curly blond hair.

Ekkire slipped closer again now that the sleara had settled, and finally his tail curled in a thick loop around me, helping me prop up against his coils so I wasn’t quite so vulnerable and could better see what was going on. At the first touch of his scales to my skin, the sigils lit up again. That settled something inside me, but it caused a flutter of murmurs among our crowd of suspicious watchers.

“She was swept into a gully the earthquake opened up, then carried along by a wash of water from an underground spring,” Ekkire said. That was not what had broken my leg; that had come from a tail blow from a Thunder Rock warrior. I thought it might even have been the guy with the nasty mouth, but it had happened so fast I couldn’t be sure. Perhaps Ekkire thought the half-truth was better than the full story. After all, these guys had allied themselves with the very guys who’d attacked me.

“Ouch,” this Shaman guy said, his yellow eyes flicking to my face and growing soft and kind. “That you survived is a testament to your strength, tiny sky being. Do not worry, I am a most gifted healer, and you will be walking by nightfall.” Walking by nightfall? I doubted that. I’d seen what those healing devices could do, and healing a broken bone in just a few hours seemed extremely unlikely. For serious injuries like that, Corin always used the healing machines in the med bay on Ahoshaga.

“Doubtful,” I said through gritted teeth. He was still healing my injury with the device, but with his other hand, he’d pulled out a knife and begun cutting the ties of my improvised splint. Since Ekkire remained calm, I told myself I had nothing to worry about, but the knife so close to my body still made me tense.

“She says thank you,” Ekkire said tactfully, rather than conveying my prickly response. I shot him a glare and was surprised when he answered with a smile that was both gentle and warm. I racked my brain; had I seen him smile like that before? Maybe, but right now I definitely couldn’t recall, and I just stared, entranced.

“You are very welcome, sky being. I am delighted to meet you,” the Shaman responded, beaming a smile at me that was indeed very delighted. His words seemed extremely contrary to what this war party had been planning to do. Why was he being nice? Wasn’t he planning to kill my kind?

I started to ask, furious that he’d lie to me when I was already so vulnerable. I hated double talk. Ekkire spoke over my beginning protest, speaking louder than he probably needed to, to silence my suspicious exclamation. “Her name is Jasmine. Jasmine, this is Ishmakah. Ish is still an apprentice, but he is indeed a very gifted healer. We have met several times before,” he added, directing those words to me. I was certain he was trying to tell me I could trust this shaman, err… apprentice. That he knew him well enough to know I was in good hands, and to my surprise, it did help. It helped because I trusted Ekkire.

The healing was beginning to take its toll, though. Or was it the pain I’d been in for days now? My sore, abused body was finally starting to ache less, and with it came an exhaustion so deep it was terrifying. I fought it, fought against the sleep pulling me under as long as I could. In the end, I lost. I trusted Ekkire, did I trust him enough to guard me from all these others while I was at my most vulnerable? There was no choice. Darkness claimed me, and I could only hope I was still safe when I woke up.

Chapter 17

Ekkire

“Ah, thank the stars,” Ish sighed when Jasmine went lax against my coils. She’d passed out, which made me worry, but it seemed to be a relief to my friend. “I was beginning to worry she’d never relax enough. Hold her still; I must align this break properly. Infection has kept it from fusing, and it’s slid.” That sounded very painful; now I was definitely relieved Jasmine was out cold.

She still moaned fitfully when Ishmakah gently manipulated her leg into alignment. Both Hunter and Dove began growling at the sound, but they eased when I shushed them. “Go lie on her chest, little ones. She’ll need your comfort.” That was the place Dove favored, and I had seen how her soft purrs and chirps made Jasmine’s expression ease. To my surprise, this seemed like a good idea to both of them, though I did not believe they could actually understand my words.

Dove climbed onto Jasmine first, her tiny body fitting snugly under her chin. She’d forgotten her stick, the new one Hunter had gotten her earlier in a clever bid to distract her from attacking poor Ish again. Now he picked it up, rose on his small hind legs, and offered it again. When she took it, it was with a lift of a wing that was all invitation. Moments later, the pair were a curled-up little bundle right across her heart. A curl of silky white, another of slate blue, and wings cupped over each other until neither was visible.

“That’s new,” Ish remarked, only briefly lifting his head to glance at the pair before resuming his healing of her broken leg. “Since when do sleara act like… well, that? And how do I get one to cuddle with me?” He grinned, pleased at the idea, and behind him I heard at least one chuckle. The group of Sun Fang warriors had begun to relax; all but Ilesekh looked more curious than hostile.

I was not surprised, as I’d been the same. My initial reaction to discovering the humans—these sky beings integrating with our society—had been a sense of horror too. What would they bring? Disease from far away? Changes, weapons, threats? The moment I’d arrived at Haven, my curiosity getting the better of me, I’d been enchanted, however. That first group of arrivals had mostly been female, and the difference between them and our own females couldn’t have been more obvious.

Even Jasmine, who had been back to her hostile, suspicious ways when confronted with these Sun Fang males and Ish, had a way about her. In this case, it was the sleara that showed her soft, sweet side. The side of female nature that was normal for humans, but a rare, abhorred thing for naga females. You’d never see a female from any clan be so warm, so friendly to another creature, least of all one as vulnerable as a tiny sleara.

They were already intrigued, these Sun Fang warriors. Seeing what they hadn’t known existed, not a threat, but a softness worth cherishing. It helped that she spoke to their hunter natures too, being an expert archer herself. Even in terrible pain, even passed out, she had not released the bow she gripped in one fist. Their expert eyes would see things other hunters might overlook: the craftsmanship of the improvised bow, and the strength it would take to use it, which was considerable and impressive given her size.

I’d gotten distracted assessing the warriors, but Ish was always patient. He made a soft humming noise that drew my attention, and I remembered he’d asked me about the strange behavior of the sleara. “The Shaman Artek believes sleara were once companions—pets—to our ancestors. They are clever and extremely loyal once bonded. There are several humans at Haven who have enticed such a bond from a sleara in the past year.”

“Huh, why the sky beings? Are the sleara more drawn to them?” one of the other hunters pitched in, clearly equally intrigued. I thought it was Scai, one of the few hunters I knew in passing—who asked, “Maybe something in the scent of the sky beings? This one does smell very enticing…” I growled so fiercely it made both sleara lift their heads to stare at me, with Hunter hugging Dove tighter with his wings as if he intended to keep her from rising.

The growl was instinctual, and it came with a flare of gold from my sigils that was impossible not to notice. All of them understood it, but only Ilesekh, their leader, seemed to take objection. His expression grew tight with displeasure, perhaps even disgust.

“She is your mate,” Ish said, awed. “You are most fortunate, Ekkire!” He meant it. The mate bond was all a male hoped for; without it, they risked becoming clanless. A fate that could, in some cases, mean death, cut off from support and companionship. A shaman, or an apprentice shaman, did not need to fear such a fate. They rarely mated at all, as far as I knew, though there were no laws against such things. Of those present here, at least half were young enough to still be without a mate; they knew well the endless hope their sigils lit for them.

Very few clans did not cast males out when they didn’t find their mate by a certain age. My clan didn’t; our females cared so little for the males they’d already sent us roaming. To them, nothing changed in the relationship, mate bond or no mate bond. Sun Fang did cast males out, though no outcasts from their clan had made it to Haven. The fear they’d one day be on their own was very real.

“Yes,” I agreed. “She is mine.” Even when we could return to the sky wreck, or even Haven, I would consider her so. If she wanted to live there and sent me roaming, that was no different from having a naga mate, was it? But I did not believe she would; I believed she’d roam with me, and that future pleased me very much. The decision settled deep in my gut, twining with my bones. A certainty of where I belonged, who I belonged with—something I’d never felt before.

My words settled with a quiet certainty over the group of warriors. Monumental as the shift was that I’d felt inside me, it was noticed by them too. There was hope yet, maybe it was all a misunderstanding, their reason for being here. Then I glanced warily at Ilesekh and knew I could not let down my guard, not around him. He was still hostile, his posture guarded as he glared, arms crossed, at Jasmine like she was a Rakworm about to strike.

The moment stretched out, but only lasted half an hour as the sun marked its passage through the sky in slow increments. Nobody seemed bothered to wait for Ish to finish healing Jasmine, though I felt certain they must be anxious to keep going to the outpost. Only Ilesekh made scathing remarks on her weakness of body. Those I ignored, though I was tempted to reach out and snap his neck for the insults.

Scai came over to finish the job on my tail, breaking the last arrows and extracting the arrowheads. A bandage was going to have to do; I wasn’t pulling Ish from his work on Jasmine, and he didn’t offer. “Sorry we shot you,” Scai offered, a wry grin dancing around his mouth and a twinkle in his orange eyes. He was sorry, but only a little—more entertained by the strangeness of the situation than anything.

I shrugged and then reached out to gently stroke a finger between the wings of the small slate-blue sleara. He made a soft chirping noise, followed by a tiny purring rumble. “He came to my defense. It was only right. You have fast reflexes,” I added, my gaze indicating the rest of the hunters. They’d broken up into small groups and were talking or performing tasks such as making more rope or arrows, preparing tea and warm food for a quick afternoon meal. Some had left to scout ahead. They were a well-oiled hunting party, used to working together.

“So does she,” Scai said, and then he surprised me by freeing the bow from Jasmine’s grip, his hands never even touching her skin. He tested the bow, and then, with a nod, slipped away to return to his backpack and retrieve his tools. Scai, I knew, was one of the best bow makers around, and his bows were readily accepted in trade anywhere. To have him silently tweak the current weapon for efficiency was a great boon, but he went further than that. Slipping into the woods once his tweaks were done, I could only assume it was to get more supplies.

Another half hour passed, Ish lost entirely to the healing he was performing. When he finally opened his eyes, exhaustion lingered on his face. “That was…” he sighed, then blinked as he noticed how far the sun had traveled across the sky. “Oh no, Ilesekh must be furious I took so long.” His gaze flicked from Jasmine, still in an exhausted slumber, to where Ilesekh had finally sat down to eat. His glare at Ish was something else, and my friend squirmed uneasily on the grass.

“But she’s healed. I healed everything,” he added. “The bruises were extensive, the infection burned deep, and the break was bad, but she should be completely fine after waking from this healing sleep.” Leaning a little closer, his voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “You must be careful around Ilesekh. He comes from another outpost and brought with him his distrust of the sky beings. Our Queen does not care, but my teacher, Keir, and Ilesekh are of like minds. It is because of Keir that Ilesekh managed to form this party. I came with them to try and stop them… but the earthquake intervened.”

The history lesson was muttered very quickly, and Ish fell quiet afterward, a mood that was entirely out of character. Only a cursory pass of the healing device was offered to my injured tail, followed by some expert bandaging. Possibly all the time he was willing to risk, with Ilesekh glaring at the further delay. I whisked my tail out of his grip as soon as the last knot was tied. “Let us go; we’ve been here long enough.”

I gathered Jasmine and the sleara inside the fur very carefully, then rose. She was so light, it would be no burden to carry her as we traveled. She could sleep as long as she needed, recover her strength, so she would be strong and ready when we reached the outpost. There, I knew we’d both need to be at our best, but I had no doubt she was up to the challenge. Or would be, after she’d rested. My relief that her injuries were fully healed carried me through the rest of that afternoon, muting the soreness in my tail so it was nothing but a minor nuisance.

We’d help these warriors find their kin, and then we’d retreat through a roundabout, safe route to find our way back to the sky wreck or even Haven. I would take my time doing so, to make sure I had all the time I needed to convince her she wanted me as her mate. Yes, this was a future I liked. Jasmine, bright and smiling, at my side for the rest of our lives. Roaming Serant with me, to satisfy the same itch I felt. It couldn’t be more perfect.

Chapter 18

Jasmine

I woke with a deep sigh and a feeling of well-being I couldn’t recall ever feeling before. Certainly not over the past few days, when my body had been put through the wringer in the worst sort of ways. I stretched, my eyes refusing to open in case this was all a dream. I didn’t want the feeling to go away.

The warm scent that filled my lungs was male, a little salty, but with a hint of tantalizing sweetness. I knew it instantly and rolled to burrow closer with a deep, satisfied inhale. There wasn’t even the slightest twinge in my leg, heck, even the dull ache I’d had in my knee from an old fall was gone. That healer—he’d done top-notch work.

“You’re awake, Jasmine. I know you are,” Ekkire drawled from somewhere right above my head. Though I didn’t really want to rise further into wakefulness, my mind answered the lure of his deep, slightly grumpy voice. He sounded like he was reprimanding me for not looking at him right away, and it made my belly curl with warmth. That was so him, to sound inconvenienced when he was really concerned.

“Five more minutes,” I said, which I probably hadn’t said in at least ten years. Not since I was a teenager who hated school and being trapped indoors. I stretched again, feeling all the places where we touched: his arm beneath my head, his hand on my waist, and the coils of his tail tangled with my legs. There were furs over us, and more of them cushioning our bodies. Warmth filled the space, much of it radiating from him.

I gave in and opened my eyes, and discovered we were inside a small, primitive tent. The space was lit by the golden glow of his sigils. His eyes were chips of bright emerald that began to warm as he met my gaze. “I was worried about you,” he admitted huskily. “I’m not used to that… Ish said you had an infection that started with a cut on your ankle. Any longer without healing, and it could have damaged the healing bone. Once we get to Haven, I’m going to insist on learning how to use a healing device before we go anywhere.”

Oh, wow, I was not awake enough to be told all that. Ekkire rarely talked more than absolutely necessary, and I was a little overwhelmed by the information. Infection? Yeah, I’d realized I’d gotten one, but I hadn’t even realized it was from cuts on my leg, not the break itself. It sounded… bad. Closer than I wanted to cut it. Much closer.

Then his last words began to sink in, and I realized how, well, for lack of a better word, definitive they sounded—like he was already planning for a future that had me in it. Yet at the same time, uncertainty made me think I could just be misinterpreting it. He was so independent; he’d made it clear he had never thought he’d share his life with another, that his lifestyle was unsuited for it. This brush with death… and I knew it was one; an untreated infection could have easily killed me or left me crippled for life. He was only going to think I was fragile all over again, and that I couldn’t be risked out in the wilds of Serant.

“Well, it’s lucky we ran into them, I guess. Where are we?” It was clearly a tent, and I was pretty sure Ekkire hadn’t carried one of those earlier. The furs were his; I recognized the one tucked beneath my chin. It had a very distinct streak of pale lavender along the edge. “And where are Dove and the other sleara?” I wasn’t sure if he had a name yet, but I was certain he was a permanent fixture.

“With Ish,” Ekkire murmured. “It took some convincing, but once he made a nest with Dove’s stick collection, she was appeased. I think Hunter’s protectiveness helped her settle.” So he’d named the blue guy, had he? I liked that; it implied he’d bonded with the sleara the way I had with Dove. He probably would deny it, but I could hear the affection for them in his voice. Damn it, I liked that so much.

“Hunter, is it?” I teased. Then my stomach rumbled, and I wondered how long it had been since I’d last eaten. There was darkness outside our small tent; I could see a sliver of starry sky through a crack in the tent flap. The rustling of the wind through the trees told me we were still in the forest that covered this mountainside. Was this the clearing where we’d encountered those Sun Fang warriors?

“Yes, that was an accident, but it fits,” Ekkire chuckled, and I cherished that rusty sound of amusement. “After you were healed, you needed rest. I carried you as we traveled. Darkness fell as we reached a treacherous pass that needs daylight to traverse after the rock slide. So we’ve made camp.” That meant we were still with the Sun Fang party, still traveling to the outpost to render assistance. I was relieved. Ekkire hadn’t turned back to rush me to Haven when he’d discovered the extent of my injuries. Was that a vote of confidence or just pragmatism?

Ekkire slid a little closer, his coils shifting and pressing against my legs. I relished the feelings he evoked with that touch, the settling of weight across my limbs. It didn’t hurt, not even a little, proving that my leg was healed. Not just my leg—the extensive bruising had also vanished without a trace. This guy, Ish, he’d done an absolutely marvelous job.

“I have come to realize I would not have liked to continue this journey without you, Jasmine,” Ekkire whispered. The warmth of his breath ghosted over my face. I tilted my chin a tad up, and now I could almost kiss the edge of his. The sharp ivory horn that jutted from his jaw gleamed in the glow of his golden sigils. A very dangerous, sharp reminder that he was not human, but a naga. He was very different from the men I’d known and traveled with back on Earth. That was a good thing.

“Hmm, me neither. This has been fun.” His eyebrow quirked in question, his stare turning baffled. I knew what he was thinking: fun? I’d been bruised to hell and back, broken my leg, nearly died of an infection, and survived several attempts on my life. How was that fun? But the rest of it was. I felt more alive than ever, and with Ekkire, I never felt like I had to prove myself anymore.

“I have some food here. You must be starving,” Ekkire said, changing the subject. He shifted and rose on one elbow to grab something from nearby: a bowl of still slightly warm stew. A wooden spoon stuck out of the fragrant food, nearly straight up with how stuffed it was with meat. I sat up myself, took the bowl, and then had a tentative nibble. Yup, it was all meat in there, enhanced by spices and salt, but definitely the kind of sustenance a carnivore would prefer. I doubted this had been made by Ekkire himself, but it was calories—lots of them—which I’d need after being healed.

I sat curled in the loops of his tail, surrounded, warm, sheltered. It was very cozy, and even though we were both silent as I ate, I enjoyed the moment. Once my spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, he took it from me and carefully set it aside. “I can leave the tent so you can sleep undisturbed,” he said with a serious expression. His body half-turned to leave, but his tail tightening around my waist said the opposite.

My hand touched the warm scales, and I noticed the arrow wounds had healed. There was not even a trace of the damage they’d done earlier in the day. That healer really was good, to have done such extensive work on two patients all in one day. That was good; I didn’t want Ekkire to be in pain for his selfless act. I also didn’t want him to leave, like he so politely offered, and it was obvious he didn’t actually want to leave either.

My hand pressed against his tail, soaking in the strength of the muscles beneath my fingers. “No, stay. I really want you to stay.” He turned toward me, his mouth tight and grim, his brow furrowed. With anyone else I might have thought he was mad, but Ekkire… I was pretty sure this expression meant something else, and it was intense. Reaching with both hands, I cupped the sharp lines of his jaw, my thumbs brushing along the smaller scales that covered his cheeks. Then I rose to my knees and kissed him.

He groaned, his body shuddering, reacting instinctively as he hauled me close. Then he slicked his tongue against my lips, proving he remembered what we’d done before. A fast student, his kiss already drove me crazy. The soft brush, then a firmer, possessive claim. The stroke of his tongue against mine, a tangle of warmth and wetness. He caught a rhythm that made me ache, mimicking the act of sex. The split tip of his tongue dragged twin points across the roof of my mouth.

I clung to his shoulders, dug my hands into his silky hair, and scraped my nails over his scalp, a groan vibrating between us that arrowed straight to my clit. It was so fucking sexy—that sound—and so was the way his coils began to tighten around me, coiling, twining, the two of us locked tightly together in his embrace.

“I want you, Jasmine,” he groaned against my lips. “I have never wanted like this before…” The heartfelt confession made me feel empowered, a strength settling deep in my belly. Ekkire wasn’t taking; he wasn’t even asking, as if he didn’t know what to ask for. So I took charge. I pressed a hand against his shoulder, urging him to lie back, which he did with heavy eyes and a flick of his tongue. His lips were wet from our kiss, his eyes glowing. “Like this?” he asked huskily.

I nodded, still on my knees next to him and trapped in several loops of his tail. With a small push, they loosened, and then I could pull my shirt over my head. The sports bra followed with the hiss of the front zipper, and his eyes locked onto my breasts as they were freed. Heat so thick blazed from his eyes, I could almost feel the touch of his gaze. “Jasmine…” he groaned, his body undulating on the fur, but his back staying firmly planted against them, though it clearly took effort to stay there.

“Stay still, let me strip,” I told him, smiling as I lifted my hips enough to shimmy out of my leggings. The leather outer pair was already gone, so that was all it took to strip me down to my panties. He stared at me like I was the most divine thing he’d ever seen, and he didn’t even need words to express it. I felt it—felt how much he desired me, admired me.

Lowering my eyes, I tracked the way tension coiled through his body. The way he clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck corded, his abs tight, and his hands digging into the furs. He wasn’t wearing his belt, so I had an unrestricted view of his cock as it began to slide from his slit, jutting proudly toward the sky. Bright emerald, with a glow of gold in veins crawling up the shaft. The split tip writhed, both ends widening, then twining back together.

I clenched, an ache lancing through my core when I couldn’t help but imagine what that would feel like inside me. Good, I was sure of it, even if he was really big. According to Vera’s very comprehensive instructions, that was less of a problem than it looked, and sure enough, when I touched the tip with a finger, he felt slick. Oily. Another tidbit reminded me not to taste him, because that supposedly would make me go into some kind of heat. It was tempting, though—very tempting—because he smelled mouthwateringly good.

“Ah, stars, Jasmine… Should I not… What do I…” He could not even finish a sentence, his body twitching, that thick cock kicking at the brush of my finger. That made me bold. Surprising myself, I rose just enough to slip my panties off, and then I flung my leg over his hip. It was a little messy as I tried to find the right spot to sit, to touch, but that didn’t matter. Everything I did seemed to excite him, his coils twisting and curling but not quite reaching to grab me, which clearly took momentous effort on his part. Good guy that he was, he was trying his hardest to let me lead, to let me make the choices. How did he know that was exactly what I needed?

Slick with my own desire, I tested my folds with a finger and found them as wet as his bifurcated tip had been. “I need to take this very slow,” I said to him, certain his big size was going to stretch me to the limit. He nodded so wildly his horn nicked his throat, but he seemed completely unaware of the small trickle of blood. I rose to my knees, shifted closer, and circled my fingers around his cock. It was hot to the touch, throbbing in my fist, and his hiss was loud.

“Slow,” I repeated, rubbing myself against the intriguing tips. That was too much for him; his hands finally came off the furs to grab me. Only as far as my hips, the rough texture of his scale-covered hands pressing against my sensitive skin.

“Sorry,” he muttered, his eyes wild and helpless, like he hadn’t meant to do that. His cock was also misbehaving, not letting me rub myself against him, but twisting in my grip. The tips were like a pair of strong, agile fingers. They sought out my heat, pressed against my folds, and my body shook as they stroked my clit. Fuck, that felt good! A rush of wetness dripped from my core in response, and the tips twisted back, as if they sensed it.

The first push inside me felt perfect, those tips twisting, narrower than a normal cock. It was going fast, not slow, but it felt perfect anyway. Lined up, nothing was stopping him from pushing in, but he fought to keep his hips planted on the furs for agonizing seconds. “Jasmine, you are so warm, so soft,” he raved. I widened my stance, knees shifting around his hips on the furs, and he sank in a bit more. No pain, no stretch, just more slick heat as he sank in, pulling himself inside me with those writhing tips.

It felt weird, then it felt good—stroking nerves that set my blood on fire. He did it again when I twitched around him, groaning in pleasure, and then again. His strange cock smoothed the way into my passage with each coiling, writhing move. I lost my concentration then, my legs trembling from the effort of holding myself up above him. He had me, though, his hands growing firm on my hips, holding me in place. His hips moved too, pressing up, then pulling back out instinctively.

Each shove of those hips, each thrust, brought him deeper inside me. Push—an inch—pull, then push again, and another inch would slip in. I did not think I could take all of him; he was too long, but then he changed the angle. With a rush, more filled me, too much. A burn from the stretch shivered through me, but it was quickly replaced with a warm rush of heat.

I glanced down, certain that meant he’d filled me with all he had, and was shocked to discover that still a fistful more remained. I shook my head, but now he was the one in charge, and he nodded. “Yes,” he hissed, “you will. You can. I know it.” He was right, but I shook as he proved it to me. Pleasure bordering on pain with his effort to thrust deeper. Then, suddenly, my clit pressed against his pelvis, and pleasure so bright it ached blinded me. The orgasm was quick as lightning, and my core clenched around him so tightly he briefly couldn’t move. Seconds ticked by, and as I shook through the orgasm, so did he. A wet rush of heat, more wetness. His expression was so fierce, his fangs dug furrows into his bottom lip.

When he began moving again, it was slowly but with a rush of wetness and the sweet, salty scent of his seed. I knew he’d come with me, but he wasn’t done. I nearly was, too tired to hold myself up even with the aid of his hands. He dragged me against his chest, hugged me tight. “Ekkire,” I said, not sure what I was even asking, just that I needed him. He kissed me, and then he hushed me when I opened my mouth to say more.

“Not yet. Let me seed you, Jasmine. Let me seed you, please?” he begged, his gruffness gone, his expression tight and desperate. Pleasure skated up my spine, made my core clench around him. Yes, yes, I wanted it too. I wanted all the crazy pleasure he had to offer, a counterpoint to the pain of the past, proof I could do this right. Create something beautiful with another being.

He pinned me to him, my breasts squashed against his chest but not painfully, scales rubbing with delicious friction against my nipples. His tail coiled, the tip rubbing down my spine, then curved around my ass, and the pressure as he pushed me further onto him was intense. I shattered again, but this time he fucked me through it, his thrusts rough but precise. He kept going until a third crest rose, sinking deep as I came that time and, like he’d promised, seeding me until I felt full. Pressure mounted, the last orgasm bright in its intensity. His seed rushed out of him, more than the first time, and gushed down his shaft and out of me. There was a lot—so much it felt crazy—but Vera had warned me about that too.

“Oh,” I sighed, too weak to do anything but observe as the pleasure slowly began to fade. We stuck together in the mess, his cock still deep inside me, the writhing tip gently stroking me somewhere no one but him could ever reach. “That was lovely,” I murmured, and then I giggled at how silly that sounded, but it was true. That was amazing.

“It was,” Ekkire agreed quietly. “Very lovely, like you.” Then he added, “Thaaank yhous,” in UAR common, proving he still remembered those words. I melted a little more for him. Wow, just wow. I really, really liked this guy, so much. When he cleaned us with a cloth not much later, then tucked me into his coils in the furs with tender hands, I knew I didn’t want to leave his side. Fate, it existed.

Chapter 19

Jasmine

The mood was grim as we set out that morning, and I understood why. It had taken us three long days to get as far as we had; three days since the earthquake had devastated this mountainside. It still looked like a fresh wound up here. The passage we were traveling through was narrow and tricky, made more so by the loose rocks that made our footing unsteady. Well, mine. The naga had fewer issues spreading their weight out with their tail, but it still slipped and slid beneath them.

We were making good progress, but I could see how this would have been absolutely impossible to try in the dark, no matter how good naga eyes were with next to no light. The rockslide had destroyed the original layout of the pass, and the scouts at the front of the party had to map out the safest path for the rest of us. Sometimes I could see them up ahead, signaling directly. Other times, they were just marks carved into the rock or a tree.

“It is not far now,” Ekkire said to me, his eyes pensive as he focused on the mountain peak slightly to our right. It rose tall above us, then broke into a ridge that swung west for what had to be several miles, until it rose even taller there. We’d entered a very impressive mountain range, taller, cooler, and rockier than the one Haven was located in.

“What do we expect to find? Will it be rescue or recovery?” I murmured quietly. Three days, that was a long time. Humans couldn’t survive long without water; three days was the absolute limit for most. If this was Earth and we were here to rescue humans, I’d consider this a recovery mission by now. But it wasn’t Earth, and these were naga, not humans. There was a very big difference.

“Both,” Ekkire responded, his mouth set in a grim line. “There were younglings and females at this outpost. Small as the outpost was, Sun Fang is a big clan, and this was still home to at least ten families.” Ten families? That meant children, and a quiet sort of horror began to fill my belly. No wonder he’d been so dead-set on coming here to render aid. Families probably also meant a group of males that was unmated, so we were possibly talking forty to sixty people. For a primitive settlement in an inhospitable place like this? That was huge.

It wasn’t until he shrugged casually and then moved further up the hill that I realized he’d responded to what I said, but we hadn’t been touching. To be certain, I scanned his body all the way down to the very tip of his tail, but no, he really wasn’t touching me anywhere. I wetted my dry lips with my tongue, horror for the fate of this settlement replaced by a different kind of shock. Not touching, but he still understood me, that could only mean one thing.

I cursed out loud when the realization sank in, then hurriedly waved off Ekkire’s concerned look. How could I have been so stupid? Twice, that’s how often I’d attended Vera’s newcomers lecture on the ins and outs of naga biology and Haven. She had explicitly told us how the mating bond worked, what it looked like, and how it was finalized. Except that last bit had completely slipped my mind in the heat of passion last night. I was such an idiot! I had remembered plenty of other important bits, but not that.

It wasn’t even that I felt trapped, or scared it was the wrong thing for me. That part actually caught me a little off guard, but I was willing to roll with it. No, it was the thought that our actions—thoughtless and passion-inspired—had now taken Ekkire’s choice from him. I had vague hopes we could make this work; we were too much alike for it not to. But we hadn’t discussed it! What if he felt trapped when he realized? What if he hated that he’d now bound himself to me biologically? That wasn’t what I wanted… I wanted him to want me without feeling pressured. Ugh, why did they have these stupid mate bonds in the first place? It was all so complicated!

Dove tried to cheer me up, attempting to pull me from my progressively darker thoughts throughout the next two hours. The hard travel required my focus, though, so I could only stew mildly. I was so reckless… We should have talked last night, not screwed each other’s brains out. What was it with me and men? Why did I always make it so complicated?

Dove chirped from my shoulder, where she’d been clinging for the past fifteen minutes, rubbing against my cheek. She was so sweet, and I just couldn’t stop feeling like I’d doomed our budding relationship. Ekkire… Damn it. I should just ask him, but when was the right time? We were about to walk into a nightmare. He said it was still a rescue, but he hadn’t denied there would be recovery, too. Bodies. Death. Sadness. This wasn’t the place to talk about our future, not even a little.

“It’s okay,” I whispered to the small sleara riding on my shoulder. I reached up to pat her small back and was rewarded with the softest little purr. She was a total sweetheart, picking up on my mood like this and trying to make it better. “We’ll get through this too,” I added. “Where did you leave Hunter?” I cast my gaze around to search for the other sleara and discovered he was flying high above us, darting through the sky in what was clearly a hunting pattern, keen eyes scanning the ground for prey. Why was I not surprised?

My search had made my eyes land on Ekkire, though, and once my gaze had slipped over him, it was drawn back as if by magnets. Gah, I was so into him now. How had that happened? I’d never liked a guy as much as I liked him, and he was so grumpy half the time. It made the moments he sounded sweet feel all the more intense. I knew I wasn’t Miss Sunshine lately, either, but he took that in stride, took it without taking offense.

His scales shimmered a beautiful, jewel green in the afternoon sunlight, hints of purple catching on the edges from the violet rays. Other scales held a darker edge of black, or a hint of gold. I loved how his mossy green hair had been braided to be practical, yet still hung loose nearly all the way down to the middle of his back. It fanned over the closure of the massive backpack of supplies he carried like it weighed nothing. The gleam of his metal trident made him stand out from the Sun Fang hunters even more. Only Zeidon had one of those at Haven, and he was a Water Weaver just like Ekkire.

There was something sleek and confident about the way he moved through the treacherous terrain. The movements of a predator—an athlete—used to pushing himself to the very edge of endurance. As if he sensed my eyes on him, he tilted his head and glanced over his shoulder toward me. His brows lowered into a scowl that almost immediately smoothed out when he saw me. That was almost a smile, wasn’t it? Had he realized yet? The commitment he’d made to me without discussing it?

“We are almost there,” he said, echoing the earlier assurance that it wasn’t far. His “it’s not far” and mine seemed to differ a little in definition, but at least I was up to the task of climbing through this sleet. With my leg healed, I hadn’t struggled to keep up with the rest. My fingers tightened around the new bow I was carrying, a gift from one of the Sun Fang hunters, and I wondered if I was going to need it when we arrived. By all accounts, naga females were really the ones who could not stand us humans. Now I was coming to the aid of several…

I caught the scent of smoke before I saw any sign of fire, but an excited mood took hold of our party then. Fire—cooking fire, to be precise, as it was mixed with the scent of meat—meant there were survivors. We rounded a rock outcropping that had obscured much of what lay ahead from sight. I saw it then: the remains of the outpost. We had arrived.

It was built on a natural plateau on the mountain flank. At least three hundred feet wide, the strip of land was more or less level. Or had been before the rockslide had brought stone and mud down on it. Rubble lay in rough piles that were probably the remains of homes, and much of the mud and larger stones had piled closer to the mountain itself, doing the worst damage there.

Shouts went up from the survivors when they saw us, at least two dozen, both male and female, plus a handful of younglings. They looked ragged, worn, and some did not get up from the fire they had gathered around, too injured to move. Makeshift cots, or “nests,” as the naga called them, had been laid out in neat rows on the flattest stretch of ground. The wounded were being tended here. Further away, several mounds had to be the bodies of those who had not made it. There were only three, which surprised me; it was a very small number of dead for what had been a terrible catastrophe. The damage to the outpost was incredible.

The healer who had worked on me, Ish, rushed ahead of us now, his massive backpack bouncing wildly on his back as he moved. “Tell me who is worst!” he demanded, and many hands pointed. After that, chaos reigned, and I found myself so busy I had no time to think about my future with Ekkire, and whether we’d made a mistake or not.

Nobody even commented on my presence, not even the females, though there were six of them. I received some hostile glares, but that was pretty much it. Ilesekh spoke with what had to be the outpost’s leader, and then we were off to search the rubble in precise grids. I was assigned my own without fuss, but I knew that had to be out of necessity more than anything. They needed every hand they could find to help them find the rest of their people.

I learned, just from quietly listening, that they’d already managed to search the most likely spots—the places where homes had stood. A small group of less-wounded survivors, too injured to assist in clearing rubble but capable of traveling, had been dispatched to the Sun Fang’s main settlement several days away, on the other side of the mountain. They had not believed any help was forthcoming.

It was a grim task, mostly because each grid that was cleared yielded nothing. I’d been shown the list of missing, scrawled on the back of a fur with charcoal, and there were at least a dozen still gone. Among them were three children and a female, the rest all male. Ilesekh had called it lucky, but I wasn’t sure what he’d meant by that, and I’d been afraid to ask. Lucky it wasn’t more? By my count, there were fewer than ten mated pairs; seven wasn’t ten, and that’s how many females there were, the missing one included. Perhaps three had been in the party traveling to the heart of Sun Fang?

I’d just started on my third grid square of about twenty by twenty feet. Using a stick to carefully test the piles of rubble, I listened closely for any sign of life and called out the names from the list at intervals. The naga who were searching had an advantage over me: they had the ability to scent their kin. I couldn’t use a superior sense of smell to do that, and even my hearing was not as good as theirs. It did not surprise me that it was one of them who found the first naga buried deep beneath stone and debris.

They flocked in a hurry to the site to try to free the young male, who, much to my surprise, was still alive. I guess that proved they really could go longer without water. He’d been buried close to the edge of a building, partially sheltered by a wooden beam that had created a pocket around him.

“See, Dove?” I said to the small sleara observing the chaos with me. “That’s what we’re trying to do: find more naga beneath the rock. I don’t suppose I can borrow your nose, can I?” A sleara probably had an even better sense of smell than the naga did, and one thing was now clear to me: this wasn’t going fast enough. Not only was speed an issue if anyone was still alive, but the boy they’d found was practically in an area that had already been searched by the survivors. They should have found him, but they hadn’t.

Dove did her chirp kee kee noise, but softly, like she was contemplating what I’d just said. Ever since we’d entered the site of the former settlement and encountered all these new, unknown naga, she’d stuck close to my side. I’d seen Hunter overhead, watching. He’d once dive-bombed and caught some critter he devoured with great satisfaction—and a lot of mess. I couldn’t see him now, but I heard him answer her call. He was nearby. A moment later, he came winging my way from the direction Ekkire had previously been in, after abandoning his grid to help free the young naga male.

I wriggled my stick into a gap between some rocks, shifted them enough to peer under, and sighed when it appeared there was only more rubble. “This is useless. This is a job for trained search dogs…” Except there weren’t any. Though I had a feeling I could probably train sleara to do the task, that wasn’t going to help much now. Hunter landed next to my stick, sniffing at the rock I had lifted with his tiny snout, his round ears twitching back. Then he growled, which was a tiny, very cute sound coming from such a small creature.

Dove chirped back at him, then fluttered from my shoulder, light as a feather. A silvery shimmer of peach-fuzz fur and bat-like wings, she caught the Serant sun and briefly glowed violet. Then she landed next to Hunter on the rock I’d shifted, and both of them sniffed. As one, they lifted their little snouts and stared with their bright eyes at the ruckus the naga hunters and Ekkire were making, getting the boy they’d found out. Ish was there too, doing first aid even as the young male was trapped.

“That’s what we’re after, more naga survivors. Or bodies, I guess… I don’t suppose you’re smelling any?” I thought I had to be talking to the air here. They cocked their heads cutely, clearly listening, but they couldn’t understand. Dove had been clingy so far, unwilling to go far, while Hunter had been observing from a distance or near Ekkire. Now the pair tucked close and started clambering over the rocks, their little noses to the ground. My heart leaped in my chest at the sight, no way! Did they actually get it? They couldn’t be that smart, could they?

I knew I should not abandon my grid, but when they scuttled across the line into the next one, I followed. Everyone was still busy, very focused on the boy they’d found. They needed all hands on deck to get him out, it seemed. Nobody paid attention to me, not even the wounded or the females and young at the fire, though some had been watching me with suspicion not long ago.

When both Hunter and Dove pounced on a spot marked by two fallen trees, they began excitedly doing their call: “Chirp kee kee!” Dove’s was higher-pitched than Hunter’s, but they were so excited their little voices blended together. I rushed over, ignoring Ekkire calling my name with what might have been a serious note of concern. I didn’t know yet what they’d found, but it was clear they’d found something.

“Hush, babies!” I urged as I dropped to my knees beside them and tried to peer beneath the tangled, bare branches. I gathered both of them in my arms, patting their wriggling bodies until they calmed and fell silent. “Let me see, let me listen,” I said. Behind me, I could hear someone approaching quickly, stones and pebbles rolling, a tail whipping up a dust cloud the wind threw at my back. There was only one person it could be.

Lowering myself, I pressed my ear to the ground and listened more closely. My eyes struggled to penetrate the chaos of debris and darkness. Shadows were faintly purple at their edges, black deep at the back. I thought I heard a moan, a faint murmur. Was that the faintest flash of something orange deep in that tangle of roots? I turned, full of excitement, just as Ekkire reached me, and all I needed to do was point.

He lowered onto his coils, growing slinky against the uneven ground, and partially pressed himself into the opening the little sleara had been so excited about. “Yes!” he crowed. “There are naga here. Three, I scent three!” He rose, caught me around the middle, and eagerly crushed his mouth against mine. The jubilant celebration lasted only a second before he cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted for help. “Jasmine’s found three more! They’re alive too!”

We both reached for the biggest tree first, though it was nearly all Ekkire who managed to lift it and roll it away. Everything happened fast after that, a crowd of naga males descending on the site and digging with careful precision to make sure the debris would not collapse on top of the people buried beneath. I held my breath when the first body was revealed and was relieved when he lifted his head very slowly. Beneath his tightly coiled body, two smaller figures had been carefully protected. This devoted father had protected his younglings at a cost to himself, and now all three were going to make it.

Chapter 20

Jasmine

With two sites to dig people free from, nobody looked at me when I slipped away. I might want people to think I pulled my own weight, that I could help, but lifting boulders was not one of my strengths. So I shifted my new bow on my shoulder and circled back to my grids to start searching again. Thinking it had to be a fluke, I released Dove and Hunter from my coat anyway. “Go on, can you do it again? Find another? Are there more?”

Dove sat down on the toe of my boot and began grooming the silky fuzz on her chest with precise little licks. Then she rubbed her small front paws over her snout and smoothed her whiskers. It was very adorable, but useless. Meanwhile, Hunter, insatiable as he was, began scavenging for tasty bugs. So, with a sigh, I picked up my abandoned stick and started going over my grid again, poking carefully, listening closely, and searching every likely nook and cranny for a sign.

In my concentration, I lost track of the sleara for only a little while. When I looked up again, I discovered they’d fluttered off in a different direction, uphill where it had been deemed unlikely anyone had gotten trapped. Those were the last places any of us were supposed to look. It was where the rockslide had hit first, and everyone had assumed any victims caught in it had been swept further downhill. Our biggest worry was about those who might have gone over the edge of the plateau, not this area up here.

Then the pair of them began digging at a pile of smaller rocks that had collected against the side of a much bigger boulder. Their excited noises were not as obvious as last time, but they were making them. Abandoning my stick once again, I clambered over the rubble to hurry toward them. As soon as I reached the spot, I knew they’d found another. A clawed hand had been uncovered by their digging, the scales a warm nutmeg brown.

Instinct kicked in. I shouted Ekkire’s name to alert him, and then I dropped to my knees and began digging. This naga had been buried; they were probably dead, yet the hand felt warm to the touch. Then the fingers twitched and my heart leaped in my chest, both in shock and relief. So they lived? How? That seemed impossible, but there it was. I freed more of the arm, and it began moving, the shape slender enough that I knew pretty quickly this was the missing female on the list.

Ekkire hadn’t come yet; maybe he hadn’t heard me. I looked, calling for help again, and discovered they were still too focused on the male and his younglings. Even my guy, who stood out with his green scales, was absorbed in clearing the debris off them. They made such a ruckus, they probably didn’t hear me. Fine. This finer rubble and sand were manageable for me. I would clear her head, ensuring her survival, and then get more help.

“Hold on,” I called out firmly, squeezing her wrist once. “I’m going to get you out!” Using my hands and a piece of flat wood I’d found nearby, I dug until her shoulder was free, too. That’s when I discovered how she’d managed to survive being buried alive: her head was in a crevice beneath the massive boulder. It had created an air pocket, and as I carefully opened it up, I could see a hint of light. Somehow, she’d had an air shaft through that crevice that led up to the surface. If not for that, I had no doubt she would have suffocated. It was a miracle.

The female had twitched her hand when we first started digging her out, but now appeared out cold. A kind of hibernation she’d gone into to survive? A deep sort of healing sleep to restore her strength? These naga had all kinds of nifty survival techniques, but I wasn’t sure if that was one of them. Regardless, slumbering and preserving air had allowed her to survive.

She was wedged awkwardly against the boulder, her head beneath it though not pinned. The rest of her was coiled beneath the thick crush of sand and stone. She must have been high up on the slope above the outpost when the rockslide began. It had swept her down toward the village with the rest of the moving mass of rock and dirt. When I cleared another stretch of sand around the opening beneath the rock, her face was fully revealed.

Sharp naga features, a hint of orange freckles across her nose, a horn that jutted sharply from her chin. Her scales allowed sand to slide right off, but it clung to her dark hair. Something else did too—a crust of dried blood, if I wasn’t mistaken. Then she opened her eyes, orange flaring like fire. Alien, narrow pupils contracted as they focused on my face. She hissed, and confusion rapidly became fury. Though trapped, she had one free arm and a lot of will to strike.

I tumbled back, the air rushing past my face telling me just how close those claws had come to taking out my eyes. “Hey! I’m trying to help you!” I exclaimed, but she fought more, bucking against the sand that buried her. She rose just enough to free herself from beneath the boulder, her torso twisting. She was going to strike again, if not at me, then at the pair of sleara that were only now scrambling away from her. Hunter fought against gravity with rapid beats of his wings, throwing himself into the air and to safety, but Dove was not as fast. The naga female tried to strike again, but she was blocked when Hunter crashed his small body into her arm with a screech.

The pair scrambled to safety moments later, while I yanked my bow free, notched an arrow, and aimed it at the furious woman. “Enough!” I screamed. “We were helping you, damn it! Calm the fuck down.” I rose to my feet, the bow pulled tight, the arrow aimed at her in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The threat was real; she sensed it, saw it, and froze in place. A snarl twisted her features, and in response my body flooded with fear, the urge to flee very real. This was a predator cornered and ready to strike at anything. Reason did not return until shouts went up and other naga came rushing in.

Ekkire was among them, and he planted himself solidly between the female and me. While the arriving Sun Fang males shouted at me to put down my bow, Ekkire said nothing as he took up a defensive position. His tail coiled and yanked the little sleara out of the way, dumping them safely at my feet. The rest of him was locked in a stare-down with the naga female I’d tried to free. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, tension rising all around us.

This wasn’t helping; this was… If we weren’t careful, the tide would turn against us very quickly. It wouldn’t matter that she’d attacked me while I’d been trying to help. All they saw was the human who had attacked their vulnerable female. It went against every instinct I had, but I lowered my new bow and the sharply fletched arrow Scrai had made for me. She was still trapped beneath tons of dirt and rock, and Ekkire was here now. He’d never let any harm come to me.

“She attacked me!” the female declared, full of fury. “She tried to stab me in the back while I was trapped!” The accusations flew through the air like missiles, and various Sun Fang warriors shifted uneasily, staring at me with open hostility. Then Ilesekh showed up, his face a mask of fury. He was streaked with dirt from hard work, a testament to his dedication to his people. He took one look at the female and leveled his bow at me. As much as Ekkire rose protectively in front of me, it only took one arrow to get through…

I stepped closer to him, not quite touching, and hunkered protectively down over the pair of sleara. Dove chirped in confusion, but she and Hunter quickly seemed to figure out who the threat was. I grabbed for them just before they tried to launch into the air, and I could only imagine what havoc they had planned if I hadn’t stopped them. Arrows most certainly would have flown, and if one of them got hit, they would not survive it.

“No, stay here,” I demanded when Hunter shouted in fury with his little chirp kee kee noise. It was a distraction, but it did not change the mounting tension this standoff had created. There was growling, posturing; the still partially trapped female screeched in fury. I cast my eyes about, looking for a way out, and realized we’d been surrounded. Only Ilesekh was holding his bow, but that didn’t matter. I’d seen how fast he’d drawn his, and all of them were armed and deadly. We weren’t getting out of this unless they let us…

“You dare strike at my mate?” Ekkire’s snarl was so loud, so rough, I barely picked out the words in it. It carried over the other furious voices, even that of the screeching female, who was rapidly drawing an even bigger crowd to us with the sound. I saw the faces of more males, but also the females who had already regarded me with suspicion before. That was her real backup, the true danger. They were the ones really in charge out here, and if they told the males to kill me, they would not hesitate to do so. Especially not Ilesekh, who seemed to really hate humans.

“My mate,” Ekkire continued, as the sigils along his body began to glow with a bright golden hue. “Who risked her life trying to free you from what would otherwise have been your tomb? My mate, who risked her life to come here and aid your people? You dare accuse her of foul play when it is you who acted without honor!?”

The silence that fell over the area was so profound I could hear the pounding of my own heart. Feel the rapid flutter of the small sleara I held in my hands. They stared, because Ekkire was glowing and he wasn’t even touching me. He curled his tail through the air, drawing all eyes to the agile tip as it coiled my way. Nudging my chin, it hooked around the back of my neck, and with a sudden pull, I lost my balance and fell. Straight into his arms.

“Jasmine is mine. To protect, to cherish, and to avenge if any harm befalls her,” he declared. Gathering me closer, he aimed a glare first at the female, then at Ilesekh. When he lowered his mouth and kissed me, there was no mistaking the move for anything but a claim. It didn’t matter that naga did not kiss, or that females of their own kind would never allow such a thing. They all understood it.

Several males hissed; others made fluttering, whispering noises with their scales. The female, the one who’d started all of this, sank down in her sandy prison. Then she even lowered her eyes. I saw it happen just as Ekkire lifted his mouth from mine, his emerald eyes blazing. I knew then that whatever unspoken things were still between us, worry about this matebond wasn’t one of them. He wanted me, I wanted him, and that was good enough. We would figure out the rest.

He pulled me closer, and when he locked gazes, it was with Ilesekh, who still had not lowered his bow. “Lower it,” the female said. “We do not need to incur the wrath of our Water Weaver trade partner, do we?” When she flicked her gaze from Ilesekh to the other females who’d gathered behind her, I saw why she’d reacted as she had. They looked mad, but not at me. They were glaring at her.

“What just happened?” I whispered as the males began to disperse. Others began digging out the female. Most returned to the task of freeing the father and younglings, or to searching for more survivors. There were still several missing from the list.

Ekkire did not answer until he’d carried me—and, by extension, Dove and Hunter—a good distance away. He looked furious, but I didn’t let that daunt me. His lowered brow was a sight I was well used to seeing by now. “What happened? You nearly died, again! You have damn fast reflexes for a human.” He’d seen that, had he?

I shifted Dove to my shoulder, nudged Hunter up onto Ekkire’s, and then grinned. “Well, I did call for help, but nobody responded. Can’t help it if she woke up grumpy, now can I? Hey, you really plan to keep me? I thought you didn’t want a mate…” His mouth tightened, but I felt weirdly light, extremely happy, bubbling over with the urge to tell him everything. He’d said so many lovely things, things I never thought I’d ever allow a man to say about me. Yet here we were.

“I’ve always wanted a mate; I just didn’t think the right one existed for me. Now I know better.” He crushed me closer, his body winding around me in looping coils. A hug, naga-style, and it made me feel surrounded, sheltered. Perhaps others might say trapped, but I knew Ekkire would never trap me. Even while making his declaration, he’d emphasized my abilities, my strength.

“Same, Ekkire,” I sighed, curling my arms around his neck to hug him back. “I want to travel the world with you. Is that crazy?” His mouth quirked, and the scowl was replaced with something very close to a smile. We kissed, a longer, lingering moment that wasn’t a claim but an affirmation. With touch, we both said to the other: I want you, I see you. I got it now, that mate bond, and the joyous look on Jolene’s face when she’d come to Haven with her mate in tow.

He nuzzled my cheek when the kiss ended naturally, the texture of his scales a delightful contrast against my softer skin. “You are lucky the fabrics my clan males and I bring for trade are so incredibly coveted. It is what made Semirash stand down. She does not want to invoke the fury of the other females if I decide to take away their chance at trade.” Oh, so that’s why she’d called off Ilesekh? Why she’d bowed her head in what had been a clear admission of wrongdoing, at least in my eyes.

I’d seen a few swatches of intriguing fabric in Ekkire’s backpack, but not many. I’d never considered that Ekkire’s word could convince other Water Weaver males to take this place off their list of places to travel to. This must have been why Ilesekh had apologized the day before, too. This was the power Ekkire wielded, implicitly. “You’d do that for me?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but desperate to hear him say it anyway.

“In a heartbeat, Jasmine. I know neither of us planned this, but I could not have chosen better. All I want now is to share my life with you—to travel with you at my side and show you all the wonderful places I’ve seen. We’ll do that together, if you’ll have me?”

“Of course I’ll have you!” I said, and then I pulled him back to me and kissed the living daylights out of him. I knew people were watching as we did. I didn’t care. Let them stare; let them know what it was like when a human accepted a naga male as her mate. This was not a love declaration in the traditional sense, but I did recall Vera’s explanation that naga didn’t use the word love that way. I’d teach him, when I found the courage to say it first.

Chapter 21

Ekkire

I could not bring myself to leave Jasmine’s side. She had insisted on returning to the search, as it wasn’t over yet. Her determination to help people who still stared at her with open hostility… They didn’t deserve it, that’s how it felt. I could only hover at her side and fume quietly as I saw those suspicious glares, especially from the females gathered with the wounded at the improvised camp. Why? Jasmine had never done anything to harm any of these people; the opposite, in fact. Why could they not give her the courtesy of a warm welcome, the way I always received? Because she had legs instead of a tail?

My mate had hunkered down on the ground with Dove and Hunter, and she was petting the pair with delicate fingers. A reward for how they’d found yet another trapped Sun Fang male in the rubble. I did not know how she’d done it, but I knew it was all her. Somehow, in the span of a few hours, she’d trained these little creatures to search for survivors, their incredible sense of smell even more suited for the task than mine or that of any of the hunters here.

It was because they wanted to please her, the same way I did. I could not fault them for thinking that; I was eager to find ways to please her too. Her smile came so easily now, and while I could still see hints of the anger I’d first encountered, it was no longer directed at what I did. “Who’s left on the list?” she asked, breaking me from my thoughts. Her smile was warm and friendly as she lifted her velvet-brown eyes to my face.

“Five, one of them a youngling,” I said. We’d found far more alive than we’d expected, given the timing and the limited resources. Several bodies had also been recovered, but so far, unerringly, those that the small sleara located were all alive. I wondered if that was a specific scent they searched for, or simply a coincidence. Whatever it was, there was no denying that without Jasmine and the small creatures—generally considered pests by most—we would not have found this many at all.

“Okay, you have one more for me?” Jasmine asked, her voice turning cajoling as she stroked the spines of the sleara. They chirped their distinctive call, huddling close. Even I could tell they were getting tired. My mate had kept them supplied with fresh water from her waterskin and offered the ration bars from the pouch on her belt. Hunter always took them, but Dove turned up her nose at anything that wasn’t pure meat. She was holding a stick in her small paws, like it gave her comfort to have it, while more sticks jutted from a pocket on Jasmine’s coat.

“I will get her food,” I said, certainty filling me that this was the right thing to do. Like Jasmine, these sleara deserved my protection and care. I got it now, why she’d rescued Dove that first night, and what the bond brought both of them. When I said it, Hunter lifted his little head, and with a flutter, landed on my shoulder. His slight body settled with a warm weight, like he belonged.

As I slipped away, I couldn’t bring myself to go far. The mood was still grim, and Semirash was still glaring at Jasmine from a distance. The female was a little worse for wear after being buried for three days, but miraculously uninjured; she’d survived the ordeal better than anyone. She was not going to forget her confrontation with Jasmine any time soon and would carry a grudge. That’s what naga females did best, after all.

“Here,” Srahyi offered. An otherwise rather unremarkable male, he stood out only because he tended to be kind. I recalled the many times he’d offered to share his fire in the past, and his food, and any other supplies I might need. No trade expected. This time, he held out a still-warm bird he must have shot with his bow. The feathers were a purple-gray shade that matched the stone that covered everything here. “A thank you for the sleara.”

I took the bird, relieved this meant I didn’t have to go far, just as Jasmine began jogging after the pair. By now, we’d all seen this ritual several times over, and everyone held their breath in anticipation of what they’d find—closer to the edge of the plateau, which was no surprise, as we were running out of places to look at this point. The triumphant find moments later was skirting the edge of danger, and I realized I’d made a fatal mistake too late.

Jasmine began slipping as even her light footsteps disturbed the precariously placed rocks along the edge. The balance was disturbed; pebbles began to roll, then slide—more and more of them. Shouts went up, not just mine, just as the small sleara found their target.

We all saw it, but by then it was too late. The small face of a youngling among the rocks, a hand weakly rising, and Jasmine diving just as the whole ledge gave way. Someone screamed, I roared, and a flutter of wings, pale white and glittering blue, flurried into the sky. It was as if I flew too as I hurled myself to the edge, but I was not close enough to do anything. I could only watch with horror as she vanished from sight, the rush of rock and dirt covering everything behind her.

Others reached the edge first, peering over it as the rush of rock began to settle and the dust began to clear. Ilesekh was among them, but I hardly paid him any attention. “Jasmine!” I shouted, certain I’d just watched my mate plummet to her death. The ledge had a drop and then a steep slope, but I was certain a human sliding down that could not survive it—not when so much rock fell after her.

Ilesekh was shouting too, and it briefly jarred me from my panic. Why did he sound so worried? He could not possibly care about the fate of my mate… “Jasmine!” I shouted again, ignoring the strangeness and edging even closer to the unstable edge as I searched for her. Dove and Hunter landed on my shoulders, one on each side, their chirps as worried as my calls. Incongruously, I was still holding the dead bird that Srahyi had handed me.

“Jasmine! Where are you?” I shouted again, my eyes frantic as I searched for a way to get over the edge myself. I needed rope, and I began yanking it from my backpack with clumsy fingers. My trident clattered to the ground carelessly, and the bird met the same fate. Hunter and Dove both ignored the food to fly up and begin searching downhill for their human. I wished I had wings so I could do the same.

“Here,” another Sun Fang hunter offered me the end of the rope he’d already tied off around a large boulder nearby. I didn’t even know his name, but I took the thick, purple rope and began lowering myself over the edge. It would be dangerous on the lower, steeper slope, but I didn’t care. Many hands came to hold the rope steady as I began my descent. Except Ilesekh, who remained a frantically pacing figure on the ledge to my left.

With a purpose, I could ignore the pounding panic in my veins, though fear clung like a foul taste in the back of my mouth. I heard then that the Sun Fang leader wasn’t screaming for my mate, but calling out another name. The boy, I realized. The youngling Jasmine and the sleara had found just before they fell over the edge. That’s who he was calling for.

I lowered myself farther, my tail coiling to find grip against the rocky slope. At first there was nothing, and I could only lower myself hand over hand. The plateau had a bit of a lip here, overhanging before curling back into the steep slope. When my tail touched rock, it was all loose sleet and pebbles, and they slipped beneath me. Impossible to stand on, the kind of thing that could bury a male alive if he wasn’t careful.

“Over here! Ekkire! I’m here!” Her voice was so close, and it sounded so normal that I was certain I’d imagined it. I’d been scanning that still-rolling, settling slope of rock and dirt, searching the larger pieces of debris for a sign of her, but her voice hadn’t come from below me. I yanked my gaze up and found what was perhaps the most impossible thing I’d ever seen.

There she was, sitting down, legs slightly spread and braced against the slope. Her eyes were bright, red riding her cheeks, and her smile radiant. “I’ve got him! He’s alive! Tell them he’s alive, okay? They don’t need to worry!” It took me far longer than normal to understand what she was saying. I was fixated on her, searching her body for any injuries she might have sustained. I only noticed the small bundle she held, cradled in her lap, after I’d finally managed to tear my eyes from her face.

Then my breath briefly faltered, and I swore roughly. Above me, voices called, asking what was wrong. They could not see that Jasmine had survived, but they must have heard her voice. Excited chirp kee kees drowned out anything I might have said when Dove and Hunter figured out where she was. They barreled past me so fast that, even with their tiny bodies, I felt myself sway from the air their wings displaced. They landed in excited, eager heaps in her lap, right on top of the small bundle she was holding.

“Ilesekh!” I called out, tilting my head up to look at the ridge where the Sun Fang hunter still paced. “He’s all right—your son. Jasmine saved him.” I wasn’t sure how she’d done it; everything had gone so fast, it had been impossible to see. She must have caught the small boy just as he began falling, and somehow managed to direct their tumble over the ledge into this overhang. The only place they would have been safe from all the falling rock and dirt.

The expression on Ilesekh’s dramatically marked face must have looked identical to the one on mine when I heard Jasmine’s voice. The relief I saw there was so profound that my heart went out to the male, and I didn’t even like him. “Mess?” he asked, so breathlessly that it was clear he could scarcely believe the news.

“He’s uninjured but very weak, at least, I think so. I don’t see any obvious wounds.” Jasmine supplied more details, but I only had eyes for the way she held the small naga boy, and the way he clung to her, huge eyes in his tiny face. Was that what it would look like when she held our son in her arms? Why did that make my heart ache with a longing I’d never felt before?

“Ish there?” she asked, calmer than I was, it seemed. I still couldn’t get myself to do anything but stare, clinging to that rope, unable to find solid ground to stand on. She directed me on what to do, calm as can be. “Ask him if I can give him small sips of water and offer him the ration bar in my pocket, okay? Then you need to toss me a spare rope so I can make a bridge to you.”

“What is she saying? Is he breathing?” Ilesekh was waking from his daze and began making demands. As much as I wanted to linger in my own relief—and the strange discovery I’d just made about wanting children—only one thing mattered: get my mate and the youngling to safety.

It was a flurry of activity, much of it guided by Jasmine’s calm voice as she relayed orders to me. Hunter did not get it when Jasmine called for them to fetch, but Dove was quick to retrieve the rope from my hand. The weight was too much for her to carry alone, but even if Hunter did not understand “fetch,” he understood “help Dove.” Just as helping Jasmine was my reason for being, so helping the white sleara was for Hunter.

She cradled the boy with one arm, then tied her end of the rope around a solid root beneath the ledge. Her “bridge” allowed her to shuffle along it so she could reach me. Once she came in sight of those atop the ridge, shouts went up. The boy she held did not stir, but he had his small arms clutched around her neck so tightly she was at risk of choking. Not only had most of the able-bodied Sun Fang hunters gathered to watch, and to hold back Ilesekh, who might otherwise have hurled himself over the edge without a rope to get to his son. So had most of the female survivors and younglings, and any of the wounded capable of moving.

“Go, bring him up,” she told me when she reached me. Her hand patted my side, then curled around the rope I hung from. “I can make the climb alone. Bring him to Ish.” No, I wanted to tell her. No, I was not climbing up without her. I was not leaving her on this tricky slope alone. She was so determined to save a boy who was not her own, from a species so different from her, and from a clan determined to hate her.

Hanging with only one hand from the rope I clung to, she held the boy cradled against her with the other. He’d even coiled his short tail around her waist, squeezing tightly. “Let go, sweetie,” she crooned, the way she also crooned at the sleara. It always made them melt for her, stars, it made me want to melt at her feet. The boy did the same, relaxing in her grip, trusting her when she spoke with such human sweetness. The way no naga female could ever sound, not even to her still-nursing baby.

“She’ll be right behind us, Mess,” I told him, a lump in my throat I could not swallow. “Come to me, and I’ll take you to your father.” The promise of his dad made the lethargic child release his grip slowly. He was so light I barely felt his small weight as I lifted him against my chest. Only when I had him safely cradled in my left arm did I realize a far bigger problem.

I needed both hands to climb back up, but the boy was too weak to cling to me unassisted like he normally might. “Tell them to pull you up. I’ll be secure on this rope,” Jasmine said, reading my thoughts. Her confident gaze met mine, telling me without words that she fully believed she was secure. No fear, just plain confidence in her abilities. I could believe in that; I’d seen her climb a rope before, after all. Not just climb it, but perform a rescue midway. My eyes flicked to Dove, who circled us on outstretched wings with encouraging little chirps.

“Pull us up,” I called out. “I am bringing the boy up.” Several uneasy glances were shared above us, not because they worried about pulling my weight with that rope. There were many of them; it wouldn’t be an issue. No, I knew what they were thinking: leave the female behind? Any naga female would have demanded her right to be rescued first. Whether this was practical or not, the males were used to accommodating those demands. They had probably already considered options and dispatched someone to get more rope.

“Do it!” Jasmine shouted, flinging one hand briefly up to point. “Go!” Even though they could not understand what she said, the command in her tone was obvious. The males leaped into action, Ilesekh the first to reach for the rope and start hauling. My mate brushed her free hand over my hip, then along my tail as I was pulled higher. “I’ll see you shortly, Ekkire. Don’t worry.” It was odd, but I didn’t, though I knew I was leaving her in a situation most would consider precarious.

Once they hauled the boy and me over the edge, many hands dragged us to safety. The child was quickly reunited with his father, but I only spared a short look at their relieved smiles. Ilesekh had come across as a stubborn, hard-edged male, but he was a doting, worried father. He rushed his son to Ishmakah to be checked, his hands petting and stroking as if he could not stop assuring himself the boy was safe.

They were waiting for me with the rope, fully expecting me to go back down to retrieve Jasmine. I’d never forget the utter confusion on Scai’s face when I took the offered rope and lowered it back down to Jasmine without comment. The confusion mounted among the males when I peered over the edge and called to her that it was secure. “Are you not…” Srayhi began to ask, but then they discovered Jasmine was already moving.

Last time, I had only gotten a very short glance at how she did it; this time, I had the full view. Her speed in daylight was also nothing short of astonishing. A fifty-foot-long climb took her barely a handful of seconds, the rope twisting in a quick, sinuous line through her feet. Her body bent and expanded as she alternated between a secure grip with her feet and her hands, hauling herself rapidly higher. She reached the top, barely winded, and allowed me to pick her up with my tail, plucking her from the rope to set her back on her feet on solid ground.

“Uh, is everything okay?” she asked. “Why are they staring?” I did not answer, but pulled her into my arms, bent her back, and claimed her mouth. A feeling mastered me I had no words for. It encompassed many things: how much I cared for her, how much she owned me, heart and soul. Pride for her and her strength, the size of her tender heart.

Then a thought struck me, a thing I had heard males and females alike say to one another in Haven. Words that had puzzled me then, but I understood now. “By all the sacred streams and the stars, I love you, Jasmine.”

Her startled eyes met mine, her head pulling back though I did not let her get far. My heart felt so large inside my chest; I could not stand the thought of letting her go, even a little. I had only ever seen my Jasmine tough and fierce, or full of passion and pleasure. I had seen her weak with illness and pain, and recognized the strength it took to keep going the way she did. She had exposed something very tender about her past, and cried the way humans cried, but that too took strength. Today, in this moment, I saw her tears, and they came from a soft place. These were different.

Alarm flashed through me but was quickly silenced. Her mouth tilted in a smile as she sighed. “You said it first! You beat me to it—wow, Ekkire. I love you too, you know that? You’ve convinced me these mate bonds are real, and they pick right. So very right…”

Chapter 22

Jasmine

That night, by the fire, a celebration began. Things were different since the boy, Mess, had been rescued. I mean, not only had Ekkire figured out the “I love you” part of a relationship completely on his own, he stuck to my side like glue. Yet at the same time, it didn’t feel like I was being smothered. I liked the way his tail kept searching me out, touching me. It just felt like love.

Other changes were in the way the females gazed at me and the way the males now treated me. That was because Ilesekh, the male who’d led the charge before against humans, had now clearly changed his mind. Saving his son had done that, but I would have done it whether it changed his mind or not.

Dove and Hunter were guests of honor, supplied with the best and tastiest bits of meat throughout the evening. It hadn’t been missed by anyone that they’d played a pivotal role in rescuing so many of their people. Too many had still perished, but with their bodies recovered, they could be given a proper send-off. Even more miraculously, none of the settlement’s young had been lost in the end. It was worth celebrating.

An exhausted, pale, but smiling Ish thanked us for our help as he brought over cups of a potent alcoholic drink the naga liked to make. “Abseal? As a healer, I cannot recommend it, but it is tasty anyway,” he said, holding the wooden cups out to us like they were precious. I took mine and inhaled the fragrance, fruity and tangy. It came surprisingly close to wine, but carried a very serious kick. I’d only tried it once, when Haven’s own brewer of the stuff, Iave, handed it out. The naga males were not nearly as affected by it as humans were, but today I was willing to risk a little lowering of the inhibitions. Ekkire had my back.

“Thank you, my friend,” Ekkire said. The two bent their heads together to talk about the condition of Ish’s various patients. Ekkire was all glittering emerald, while Ish was as bright and sunny as a canary—yellow glittering like white gold at the edges, especially across the firm, wide arches of his cheeks. Gah, now I was beginning to realize how nice the guys were on this planet, and I was feeling extra mushy because I was pretty sure the nicest one was mine. Ekkire might not like company, or so he said, but he was meticulous about inquiring after the health and fate of everyone here.

“Oh, does your friend have a communicator? Could he reach one of the other Shamans, like Artek or Haven?” I asked. It had suddenly occurred to me that hoping a message on a kite had been found was enough to assure Haven’s hunters—and Jolene—that I was fine was a little silly. Sure, we had not had a huge amount of choice in the path we’d taken. Those Thunder Rock warriors had blocked our path, but it would be an immense relief to Jolene if she knew I was truly fine. I wasn’t used to having anyone else care about my well-being.

The Shaman’s apprentice and healer did have such an object, though he had never tried to reach Haven with it before. After some fiddling, the best we discovered we could do was route a message through the Sun Fang Shaman, Keir. He could pass it on to the Shaman Council, and they could, in turn, reach Corin at Haven. Now we just had to hope the message of our survival and mating wasn’t lost in translation somewhere. Keir had been the surliest naga I’d ever heard speak, his narrow-eyed glare aimed at me, making it clear he shared Ilesekh’s sentiment about humans.

Just as that business was concluded, someone took up an instrument and people began dancing, some pairing off with their mates and disappearing into the dark. Ekkire was not a dancer, but when I pulled him into a slow dance, he quickly changed his mind, his body curling around me as the two of us swayed slowly to the music.

Younglings were also coming alive, bouncing back from the disaster with laughter and play. It might be nightfall, but nobody was sleeping yet. Instead, the kids were playing a game of tag with Hunter, who kept teasing them until they chased him around. Dove sat huddled on a throne of twigs, many of them found and brought to her by the settlement’s children. Her current favorite—an already recovered Mess, the child I’d saved—had been brought to her with shy reverence and an encouraging nod from his previously hostile father.

The father, Ilesekh, found us an hour later, after he’d tucked the boy tenderly into a nearby nest with plenty of furs to stay warm. “I think I need to share something important with you, both of you,” he said as he approached. He drew us away from the festivities, and we went quietly to a spot that offered some privacy from prying ears.

The change from hostile to accepting had started with the change in Ilesekh’s behavior. Since saving his son, his change of heart about me was obvious, and it had made even the females here act curious but distant. Perhaps it helped that I went armed everywhere, and I’d been invited to compete in some of the archery competitions earlier that evening, at the start of the festivities. I might not have won, but I definitely hadn’t done badly either. Human and small, I was not without fangs, as Ekkire had said.

“What is it?” Ekkire demanded when he deemed we’d gone far enough. He crossed his arms over his chest, hiding the clench of his fist that seemed to indicate he was ready to reach for his trident. Ekkire had a harder time letting go of his anger over the way Ilesekh had treated me. The Sun Fang hunter seemed to take it in stride, perhaps even expecting it.

“I lost my mate due to a piece of the skyship that carried all those humans here…” he said as he flicked his eyes from Ekkire’s tight fist to my face. The orange that marked his brow ridges made any expression look dramatic on his otherwise deep brown face. It caught the distant light of the bonfire and flickered back like flames. “It made me furious, hostile to the newcomers, and… I rashly blamed her death on the sky beings. I see now that was wrong. Ishmakah told me you were victims too, drawn to Serant by powers beyond our understanding…”

I nodded, agreeing even though I knew the truth was more nuanced and would be less to his liking if he knew. If he thought we were convicts, outcasts condemned by our own people, he would not consider our arrival so innocent. That I was sure of. Guiltily, I realized I had not told Ekkire about it either, but of him I had no doubt he wouldn’t care. I could tell him everything, and he’d still believe in me and our future together. That certainty made me smile, even though Ilesekh’s next words were much grimmer.

“After word reached us that Sun Fang assisted Haven in protecting the sky beings last winter… I set out to avenge my mate. I mustered a party of males at Sun Fang’s main settlement with Shaman Keir’s help, then I left Mess here at the outpost with a friend. We met up with Thunder Rock to raze the sky wreck.” He paused and looked away, toward the fire and the nest where his small son was sleeping peacefully. “Msera leads them, and he’s a fanatic. He even dug up a relic from an ancestral cave he believes will ensure the wreck’s total destruction.”

Cold dismay settled into my gut as I considered what kind of relic he could be talking about. A bomb? Was there such a thing just lying around? The more I thought about it, the more I considered it was likely. Hadn’t they still been digging up the occasional World War bomb from cities and forests in old Europe nearly a millennium later?

Ilesekh lowered his chin horn to his vulnerable throat and dipped into what could only be called a bow in front of me. “I am very sorry it took me so long to see the value in having new neighbors, in sharing this world with sky beings such as you, Jasmine. I believe Msera might succeed with this relic. I saw it once; it was big and had glowing lights, indicating it still worked…”

Oh God, that sounded bad. It could still be nothing, but if Thunder Rock really had a bomb, and they planned to use it to blow up the crashed ship? We had to warn them. “You are certain?” Ekkire asked for me, his hand reaching out to snap to Ilesekh’s shoulder and pin him in place. “Where did they plan to set it off? Do we have time to get there to warn them?”

“I…” Ilesekh seemed to brace himself, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps? Msera and his group were in much more disarray than we were after the earthquake. They were only a dozen, and he tried to convince me to stay. So perhaps they were banking on our numbers to help deliver it?” No doubt Ilesekh had been trying to get back to this outpost as quickly as possible, knowing his son was here. It made me think back, what little I remembered of it, and realize he’d been much more patient than I would have been when they paused so Ish could heal me.

“We must go right away. Can you spare any rations for the journey?” Ekkire said, his hand dropping from the Sun Fang warrior to find mine and gently squeeze. I was relieved it was not even a question to my sweet, loyal guy. He really had the biggest heart, always rushing off to help people or animals. I squeezed back, my heart overflowing and clashing with the horrible fear that we’d be too late to warn anyone.

“Ish needs to deliver another message,” I said as soon as Ilesekh assured Ekkire he’d have supplies and rushed off to get them. It would not surprise me if he took them from his own bag, and I vowed to check that it wasn’t going to cost small Mess a meal. We could hunt along the way if needed, or go hungry for a day or two.

With a nod, Ekkire and I went back to find the apprentice, drawing him away from the festivities the same way Ilesekh had taken us aside earlier. The news of a potential bomb rattled the bright-scaled male so much he fumbled as he located the ancient communication device. It nearly dropped between some awkwardly stacked rocks at my feet, but was rescued by a whip-fast flick of Ekkire’s tail. “Calm yourself, Ish. We can only do what we can. Call Keir, then call anyone you can reach.”

Ishmakah began with his teacher, as was no doubt expected of him, reaching out to the Shaman Keir for the second time in short order. If he’d seemed surly before, he was downright furious to answer this time. At Ish’s news, he shrugged and said, “So? That is not our problem. Leave it be, Ishmakah. You must focus on your duties, the naga entrusted to your care.” He disconnected the call after that and left us in stunned silence. Ish most stunned of all.

Then he turned iridescent yellow eyes on me and Ekkire, a fire lit inside them that was all fury. Very much anathema to the soft, cheerful, caring side I’d seen of him so far. “I do not agree,” he snarled. “Trust me, Ekkire, Jasmine. I believe all those on this world are in my care, not just naga, not just those of Sun Fang. I will call my former teachers, though I believe they are out of range at the North Pole right now. Then I will call every student I was with at the Sacred Training Grounds. I will get the message out.”

It was all a chaotic rush after that. Various naga came to help us gather the supplies we needed to travel quickly. Only Ilesekh had known about this potential bomb, but word traveled fast. Scrai, who’d made me my new bow, donated a second quiver full of arrows and elicited a promise from Ekkire that we’d be back for another archery competition in better times. Misha and Srayhi traded out our furs for better, newer ones, and Ilesekh topped up our food supply.

“Ask him if his son won’t go hungry to feed us; I won’t allow that,” I said to Ekkire as he was putting the food into his watertight backpack. Ekkire’s eyes flashed green as he repeated what I’d said, and then, much to my unease, Ilesekh dropped into a bow at my feet. He was babbling some apology for not seeing the goodness in my heart right away, but it was no assurance. I was just being decent, damn it; this wasn’t exactly a high bar.

“Yes,” Ekkire said anyway. “Mess will be well-fed; you need not worry, my little hunter.” I realized immediately that Ekkire had repeated my words with such satisfaction because he knew how they’d be received. Yet he’d also known the answer all along. Sneaky man.

Then we were setting out in the dark. A pair of sleepy, completely knackered sleara were tucked into the front of my coat. I’d been given my own backpack with a set of supplies as well, and a waterproof pouch with extra strings for my bow. Gifts to thank us, to help us on this urgent mission, but only small things they could spare, given the ruins of their outpost. Some warriors had expressed their regret that they could not come with us, and Ekkire had firmly assured them this was enough. They were needed here.

The journey back began in the dark, on little sleep, and I recalled the bad sleet and rubble-covered pass we’d traversed to get here. We’d camped and waited for daylight to do it, because it would be too dangerous otherwise. A descent could be even riskier; we’d need to carefully control our speed. I was already worrying about it, my brain rapidly flicking through options to make it safer.

When we reached the top of the pass, Ekkire kept going, however, not turning into it but heading straight across. “There’s a stream deep enough to swim not far. It has a slight drop, but otherwise continues safely down and heads almost entirely in the right direction.” My mind filled with the dark, churning mud and water that had swept me through the gully formed by the earthquake. My mouth went dry with fear, my gut roiling. Oh no, water? That was his solution? He wanted us to let the current sweep us down the mountain? If we had a canoe I might be game, even a raft perhaps, but a swim?

No vessels, improvised or otherwise, were waiting for us when we reached the stream. Ekkire was quiet and efficient as he adjusted his backpack and checked that his weapons and pouches were all secure. I thought I was masking it as I did the same with my things, even unstringing the new bow and putting the string in the new watertight pouch I’d been given. They must have known we were going this way, that’s what the gift was about… Why did it have to be water?

“You will be safe, even if you can’t swim, little hunter.” Ekkire curled his tail around me and drew me closer, tucking me against his chest and hugging me gently so as not to squash the sleeping pair of sleara. “I am a Water Weaver male; we are born to swim. I have traveled this way many times before. It will bring us down the mountain in hours rather than days.” Oh yeah, rationally, I knew perfectly well that the water was a very fast way to travel. The stream was wide and deep, with a fast-rushing current. Even after the earthquake, I saw no obvious rocks or obstacles in the water, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any downstream or hidden beneath the surface.

My body ached, remembering the cold, and the bruises and aches from my last encounter with water. Everything in me rebelled against the thought of going in. “I can swim,” I spat out, angry with myself for not being stronger than this. I was good at anything outdoors, even water, damn it! This stupid panic wasn’t about to get the better of me, was it? Not when the lives of thousands could depend on it, including Corin and Joxra, who were surely still at the crashed ship.

“I’ve done rafting, canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding. Heck, you name it, I’ve probably done it… This is a stream of nothing,” I pointed out, more to myself than to him. He let me talk, muttering furiously into his chest, his big hand stroking along my spine through the thick fur of my coat. I eyed the water again and estimated it would be cold enough to sap my strength to swim within fifteen minutes, and cause severe hypothermia in less than two hours. Even as a capable swimmer, there was no way I’d make it. I opened my mouth to say that, but Ekkire hushed me with the softest, sweetest of brushes against my lips.

“Hush, it will be fine. I will keep you warm, afloat, and safe. The water is cold, yes, but my body will heat yours, and I am well adapted to these circumstances.” I looked into his eyes, certain he had to be mad to trust the water that way. Certain, too, that he did not understand the risk of hypothermia under such conditions, and how fragile a human truly was. I’d fought tooth and nail to be seen as tough; was this the one time I had to admit weakness?

I opened my mouth but again, Ekkire beat me to it. “No, no anger, no fear. I know why you are scared, but this is not like the gully, and the water will get warmer as we travel down. You are going to be fine. Trust me.” It was those last two words that convinced me. I would not say the fear vanished, or even that the panic went away, but I did trust him. He was a Water Weaver, so water was literally in his name. “I’ve got you, Jasmine. You are my heart.”

It was with those words ringing in my ears that I let him carry me into the water, where, like he’d promised, he kept me warm and mostly dry. We went headfirst down the mountain, racing faster and faster. Though it was closest to riding a raft, there was nothing I could compare to lying across his chest, face up, for hours—the water only touching my legs and feet most of the time, and his heat steadily keeping me warm. Our weapons, my bow included, stayed dry on top of us, and the sleara were barely even disturbed from their nap.

It was in those long, dark hours, surrounded by the rushing water, that I found the will to talk. To share the parts of my past I knew he deserved to know, especially if we were racing into the arms of danger yet again.

Chapter 23

Ekkire

For the first hour we were floating downstream in the water, I worried Jasmine would get too cold. I’d been certain it would be fine; Zeidon had talked to me about the technique he’d used with his mate. Jasmine was small, and that made her lose heat more quickly, so I worried anyway. Yet that small size also made it easy for me to keep her dry atop me as I floated on my back. I used my tail as a rudder, steering us without effort around any obstacles and creating warmth with my muscles.

The mating marks glowed warmly against her, too, and each time I pressed my nose to the edge of her cheek, she was still fine, cooling only a little from the occasional fine spray of water or the edge of fog we passed through. The stream was one I’d traveled many times before, especially downhill like this. It began to warm exactly when I expected it to, though it also leveled off a little and slowed our pace. The several-feet-high drop had come and gone, my body coiling to keep her dry and secure as we took the small plummet.

Now, in the early dawn hours, she began to talk to me. Her voice held that same croon-like quality that had entranced me before, and tamed sleara. First, she just talked of her family, and how she’d lost her parents to a factory accident when she had just become an adult. Whatever a factory was, it sounded dangerous, because three years after that, her brother had met the same fate. My mate had suffered heavy losses too early on, and it explained to me why she had a hard time letting anyone in. I had been devastated in the same way when I’d lost my father in a hunting accident when I was fifteen. After that, I’d been on my own.

What truly got my attention was when she talked about her job as a wilderness guide. “I worked for an agency at first, but later I started my own company. I’d take rich, privileged parties out into some of the most remote nature reserves on Earth. At first… that was fun. I was the girl, the novelty, the underdog. Other guides—male guides—would throw me their extras out of pity, you know? If they overbooked, they’d send their clients my way. Then they started preferring me over them, and things changed.”

My senses sharpened as I heard that, my arms tightening around her. I was not aware at first that I’d done that, but I could not help myself. She sounded hurt, not excited about her life, about doing what she loved. She sounded like it was a painful past she would rather not remember. Too well did I recall how she’d mentioned being hurt before, being unable to trust anyone. It was her past on Earth—the strange world she came from—that had inflicted these wounds on her. Wounds she’d felt made her unsuitable to be mine, though I knew that was not true.

“Ekkire,” she whispered, barely audible over the rush of water and Dove’s tiny snore from inside Jasmine’s warm, dry coat. “I wanted to share this with you because that seemed only fair, but you should know: if that means you don’t want me, no hard feelings, kay? We can still part ways after we’ve dismantled that bomb.”

I did not know what a bomb was, but I assumed she meant the device Ilesekh had seen Msera with. His means to destroy the sky wreck once and for all. What mattered far more were the words I did understand: part ways. Was she crazy? Hadn’t she heard me when I told her I loved her? Loved her the way naga had never loved before, until the arrival of the humans?

“There is nothing you could say, ever, that would make me want to leave you, Jasmine. Nothing. Do you understand? The mate bond chose right. I know that, and nothing can ever change it.” I wished I could turn her around so I could see the look in her pretty brown eyes as I said it. There was no answer for several moments, and unease filled me that I had not said enough—that I had not convinced her of my devotion. Then she sniffled, and when my tongue flicked out, it caught the edge of salt. She was crying; that was the taste of her tears.

“Oh Ekkire, you’re so sweet, you know that? You’re the kindest, most caring man I’ve ever met. I actually believe it when you say that, without a shred of doubt. Thank you.” There was a hitch in her words, another sign of the tears, but she sounded proud, relieved. I eased my grip around her a tad, relieved too. Good.

“The thing is,” she said, then swallowed roughly. “I’m not proud of this part, but ah… sometimes, being one of the few women in the field, it was my one selling point. It didn’t start out like that, it really didn’t. Some clients, though, —they thought I came included in the price. I couldn’t always say no.” Couldn’t or hadn’t been her choice? It took me a moment to truly figure out what she meant, the idea so foreign to me that it was almost impossible to wrap my head around.

She had chosen her moment to tell me this terribly, or perhaps perfectly. If she weren’t so dependent on staying warm, and thus safe and alive, by the way I swam… I nearly upended her into the cold stream anyway, so furious I saw red for several hot, blazing seconds. The sound of an avalanche rumbled in the pass around us, birds alighting with screeches from the trees. No, not an avalanche heralding more danger, but the sound of my furious growl. Trapped in the water between the mountain’s long arms, I could only howl out my anger on her behalf.

My prickly, wounded mate. Had I not sensed her injuries went more than skin deep? But this? No, I could never have imagined that was what she’d been carrying around all along. The fury took a long moment to die down, and even after the growl had eased, I still could not unclench my jaw. Jasmine had twisted her head up, peering awkwardly at the bottom of my chin, and risking her pretty eyes beneath my horn.

She did not speak, and neither did the sleara I’d woken make a sound. She stared at me from her coat’s collar with large eyes, one pair mercury, the other amethyst. I tested my ability to speak, uncoiled the loops of tail I’d curled around her to steady our course in the water, and still did not know what to say to take away her hurt.

“It is a very good thing those males live across the stars, or I would be hunting them this instant. They did not know the treasure they had; they did not deserve you.” I did not give voice to the very violent ways in which I imagined these males would meet their ends if the stars ever saw fit to bring them to me. They were gruesome, they were bloody, and they were still not anywhere close to what they deserved.

“Hey, Ekkire. If I didn’t love you so much, it might be annoying how perfectly sweet you are. You always say the right thing. How do you do that?” Her small hand reached up and touched the side of my face with a gentle finger. It was perhaps the only spot she could touch, but I liked it anyway.

Annoying how sweet I was? I had been thinking only of murder and death, and she thought that was sweet? I was still trying to figure that out as I spoke, because the only answer that mattered was that I loved her too. I did, so much. “You are my whole world, Jasmine. How could you think this would turn me away from you? It only makes me admire your strength even more.”

She made a sound that was half laugh, half frustrated little growl. “See? I did it again. Gah, Ekkire, no wonder you talk so little. You save up all the good words for when they matter. I like that.” Then her head tilted, and I knew she’d caught sight of the light of the sunrise coming over the hills below us. We were almost there.

“Remind me to tell you some fun stories, too. I have those. I’m not a complete mess. Even the story of how I got here is kind of fun.” How she got here? I sincerely doubted that, as I’d learned the truth of these humans from the outcasts at Haven.

They had been cast out by their own people—condemned unjustly, wrongly, even unfairly—for things they’d done. Vera had been falsely accused; Kalani and Reid had fought for the rights of others; Cosima had been hidden away like a dirty secret. Zeidon had explained to me that Farah had tried to help a child and had been punished for it. No, it wasn’t a laughing matter, but I knew it would be a story that would make me love my Jasmine even more.

“Then I shall tell you of the time I stole a weaver’s tools to try weaving myself, and made such a tangle of the string they had to cut me free.” It made her laugh, as intended, even without the full story. It made me realize something, and it was quite a shocking discovery, at least to me. I did know how to talk to people; she was right. I was very sensitive to Jasmine’s moods; I did not have to worry so much that I’d miss something. Just because I liked my quiet didn’t mean I was bad at the conversation parts.

She was still softly giggling over the promise of the anecdote, her body draped across mine and still almost entirely kept out of the water. Her outer layers were definitely getting wetter, though, and her laugh sounded tired. From the journey, the emotional upheaval she’d been through, and far too many near misses since the earthquake had separated her from Haven.

I checked the slopes of the mountains, now tapered off almost entirely into rolling hills. The sun was casting her violet rays over us at a steep angle, still barely climbing above the horizon. Soon, the water was not flowing fast enough to beat walking, and the riverbed would become too shallow. The landscape was also beginning to show more signs of the earthquake’s damage: toppled trees, broken branches, smaller slides of displaced earth and rock. The tremble had been felt less here, though it had reverberated up the hills and shaken loose the stone avalanche by the outpost. The damage would soon become as severe as it had been at the site of the sky wreck.

“Let’s get out of here,” I suggested quietly. “Day is almost here. We’ll be faster on land now.” It would also get her blood pumping and warm her up again. She had to be getting stiff from lying still, even if I could tell her cheek was still pleasantly, softly warm.

I swam us diagonally across the stream, rising as we hit a rocky bank. Once out of the water, I gently set her on her feet, my arms lingering around her waist until I was certain she was steady. “Good? Do you need a fire?” She glanced down, shook the soggy edges of her sleeves and the hem of her thick fur coat, then stomped her feet, which were definitely wet.

“Fire, but we’ll be quick. Tea, change of clothes, food, then we’ll move. The crashed ship is still hours away, isn’t it?” she said. I nodded, then handed her my fire starter and the fire-making supplies in their waterproof pouch. She instantly hunkered down to get to work in a good, dry spot. As she did, I freed her wet boots from her feet, collected more wood to feed the flames she’d started, and pulled out warm furs to replace the now-wet coat.

As soon as I knew she was eating and brewing a hot drink, I told her I was going to make some kites and slipped away. It would draw attention from anyone, even Thunder Rock if they saw them, but I hoped the kites would bring the dragon if it was still around. We were too far away for them to be visible yet, but I’d prefer to have them ready to go as soon as I knew we were in range.

When I came back to Jasmine with my gathered materials, she’d taken off everything wet and replaced what she could. There were no spare pants, but she’d used smaller pieces of fur to create footcoverings while hers dried. She’d also pulled on my tunic to replace the drying coat, and wrapped a fur pelt around her middle to stay warm. She’d even worked the leather to help it stay supple, and was dealing with the edges of her coat now. I smiled, impressed.

“I’ll make the kites while you do that,” I told her, “and then we must move quickly. It’s still far, and we have no idea when or what Msera plans.” The device was so ancient we had forgotten how to use it, but Corin might know. Corin wasn’t just good at the things our ancestors left behind; he was also inspired at making things explode. I’d seen one or two of his concoctions in action before. The story of how he’d once covered the escape of Zathar and his mate by blowing up the Thunder Rock bathhouse was also a favorite to retell at the campfire at night.

Jasmine was done before I was, her body working through tiredness with the air of someone who’d done it before. Someone who knew her limits and when to push. I liked seeing that; it was more proof that we’d work well together. She repacked everything so it could dry while we walked, and offered me bites of a ration bar as I tied the last string on my pair of kites in place. The sleara, I discovered, had been tucked into the hood of the tunic she now wore, a perfect little nest hanging over her shoulder.

“Ready,” I agreed, rising to show her the simple pair of small kites I’d built. They would fly high, and, coated with the shimmering red sap of a tefir plant, be highly visible too. On strips of light bark, I’d scrawled identical short messages and tied those to the kites’ strings. “I’ll let the first one up as soon as we reach open terrain.”

She nodded, her expression grim and worried. She had to be uncomfortable and cold from the water still clinging to her, but she made no comment as she kicked sand over the small fire she’d built. Moments later, we were moving, and it surprised me how easily we fell into a comfortable rhythm. This was urgent, and we were pushing ourselves to move fast, but her short human legs kept up with mine. She had no issue jogging at a steady pace at my side, sustaining a speed I had not thought possible for a human.

I gave that some thought as we moved, the urgency that had set us on this journey riding us both hard. Jasmine might be small and not as protected against certain environmental issues as I was, but she had clever solutions for them. More than that, her body was much stronger than it looked. Flexible and durable, she wouldn’t slow down a hunting party at all.

The mood became grimmer the closer we got to the plains where the sky wreck had crashed into Serant. The damage the earthquake had done became more obvious, and once we reached the edge of the first gully, we both paused to look. That gully was what had started all this, and it had nearly killed her. “I am glad I found you when I did,” I said, briefly touching her chin.

“So am I,” she said, smiling. Then she pointed at the far horizon, where the edge of a dark shape was only just visible. “You think they’ll see the kite?” I squinted at the shadow, trying to estimate the distance. Far, at least four hours away. Jasmine had already turned to resume her jog, likely deciding on her own that we weren’t close enough yet.

“The dragon might see it if he’s patrolling,” I said, pulling free the first kite and releasing it carefully. The construction would not last, the leafy canopy was fragile and easy to tear, but it might last long enough to be seen. “I’m going to try.” She halted with a nod, her hand tightening around the bow she held.

It took only a few moments to make it soar, and then I tied it off to a steady branch so it would stay up as long as the wind was strong enough. She had already jogged off, and I had to push myself to catch up. “If Msera sees it, he might launch that bomb immediately. We have to hurry,” she told me. After that, neither of us spoke; we needed all our breath and concentration to travel downhill through the rugged, damaged terrain.

Chapter 24

Jasmine

The journey up the mountain had taken what felt like forever, but that stream had brought us back down so fast it seemed crazy. In the distance, I could already see the crashed ship—a hulking black shape, the curve of a strange dome with an unnatural glitter, sitting in the alien landscape. It was deceptively big, considering how far away it still was. Another two hours at this pace, but I was starting to get winded. I needed a break soon.

“No sign of Sesethul,” Ekkire lamented with a growl. “Where is that dragon? Back at Haven?” He planted his trident firmly in the ground and rose tall on his tail, scanning all around. “I’m gonna risk it, send up the second kite. We need to speed this up. I scent Thunder Rock, I scent campfire smoke. They’re here.” I had not caught any of those scents myself, but I believed him in a heartbeat.

As he set up the second kite, I kept a close watch, uneasy now that I knew hostile naga might be in the vicinity. I had two full quivers of arrows, a bow so beautiful it was a pleasure to use, and good reason to shoot to kill. They weren’t getting a chance, not like the Sun Fan party had the other day. Not after the things Msera had said. No way.

I twitched as a twig snapped, and both sleara lifted their heads from the hood of my tunic and sniffed at the air. It was going to be cold, but for ease of movement, I undid the fur I’d tied around my middle. It dropped with a whisper to the ground, and I ducked behind the thick trunk of a lopsided Hura tree for cover. A spear whizzed by, narrowly missing the place I’d just been standing. It embedded itself in the dirt by Ekkire’s tail, forcing him to duck for cover just as the kite soared skyward.

“How many?” I shouted, because I still couldn’t see a thing. I tried to stop Dove and Hunter from flying off, because I feared they’d attack rather than hide. Too fast, they were gone in a heartbeat and a flutter of wings. “Fuck, no, come back!” Then I had to fall silent and hide, because the first warriors came from beneath the trees to my right. I couldn’t see Ekkire now, or my sleara friends, and I didn’t like that one bit. Grimly, I focused on my arrows, my bow, my breathing, and got ready to fire.

I’d have to keep moving, I realized. As soon as I fired the first shot, they’d know where I was and come after me. My only advantage was keeping the fight at a distance, using my bow, not my fists. Hand-to-hand, I was no match for a naga male, and I wasn’t trained for it either, unlike Kalani.

My first shot flew with a whistle, cutting through the air and hammering home into the shoulder of the nearest Thunder Rock male. He screamed, spun, and I had my second arrow flying before he could lift his spear and throw it at me. Then I ducked low and ran, flying down the side of the tree and ducking behind the trunk of the next one.

Ekkire threw himself into the fight a moment later, a roar accompanied by the glow of his golden sigils. His trident glittered as it clashed with stone spears and blue scales. He kept them busy, so I fired into the fray with precision, one shot after another. I knew they were taking damage, I knew I was hitting them, and yet the fight didn’t seem to end.

I was terrified, and I couldn’t find the sleara, and Ekkire was getting pinned despite my best efforts. It looked hopeless, and I was starting to feel like I might as well be sticking them with needles instead of arrows. “Damn it,” I muttered, my heart pounding in my chest, my body tight with tension. I’d fired so many arrows my fingers ached, and my quivers, both of them, were running low. Was there no end to this tide of warriors?

A screech finally announced the presence of the sleara. “Chirp kee kee,” they went, one over the other in a loud cacophony. I twisted, searching for them, and saw that the raucous noise had also drawn the attention of the horde of Thunder Rock warriors. Ekkire freed himself from the mass, tangled with a male I recognized: Msera, the leader. They kept fighting, clawing at one another, coiling together, and stabbing with spear or trident.

Ignoring the chaos Dove and Hunter were bringing, too much of it to be just the two of them, I took a deep breath and aimed my bow. I could not fight a dozen naga, but perhaps I could wound Msera and give Ekkire the upper hand. They were distracted, I had a clear line of sight; now was my chance. The shot flew straight and true. A howl echoed through the hills as I released it, sending chills down my spine. That wasn’t a sleara, and it wasn’t the sound of a naga either.

“Slithrazer!” someone shouted, and then another howl went up, and another. I held back my next arrow, fear of a new threat filling me. Those were predators, and they could have been cut off from their hunting grounds thanks to the earthquake, if they were hungry enough… I searched, but now I saw and heard no sleara, and couldn’t find Ekkire or Msera either.

The predators loped through the trees a moment later, three of them, drawn by the bloody wounds on many of the hunters. I cast my gaze for a good perch, and though I’d not wanted to get pinned down in one location before, I now quickly scrambled to a safe height in one of the nearby trees. Bark scraped my bare skin, the wind whipped needle-sharp cold against my legs, but I felt much safer out of reach of the snapping jaws of those purple-furred, hound-like beasts.

Hunter and Dove found me a moment later, and I’d never been so relieved. Dove landed on my shoulder and huddled close with soft little chirps full of excitement. Hunter circled once, then darted off again, and I hoped that meant he was going to find Ekkire. “Did you do that, sweetie?” I whispered as I observed the hunters fighting the beasts. “Did you entice those slithrazers to chase you here?” She murmured sweet, little nonsensical noises in answer, mercury eyes proud—but I could just be imagining that.

The beasts were a good distraction, but Ekkire was down there too, and without more help… I feared these hunters would soon chase the hounds off and focus their attention back on me. Grabbing my bow with renewed focus, I took my time to aim. Firing arrows into combat was a very different sort of action, requiring a very different concentration compared to hunting. I’d struck before, but now I knew I needed to make these shots even better. I had to kill or disable.

A shot to the eye downed one male, and my stomach revolted, horror filling me at what I’d done. I’d aimed like that for Msera, but hadn’t seen the result, and killing in defense just felt horrible. I never wanted to do that again. “Oh fuck,” I moaned when the slithrazers were wounded or spooked enough to bolt away. The distraction over, the remaining hunters were gathering themselves, searching—just like I was—for Ekkire and their leader.

A boom rocked the valley. I screamed as I saw the explosion from my high vantage point. My bow nearly slipped from my grasp as I reached to cover my ears. Smoke flew into the air some hundred meters away, a great big plume that rose high in the sky. Flames licked at the wet wood, and birds scattered in great flocks into the sky. A flock of sleara soared with loud screeching right over my tree, then flew higher and vanished from sight. Dove was not tempted to follow them, but huddled tightly against my shoulder, as shocked as I was.

That was the bomb. It had gone off… How? Rationally, I knew this was a good thing; it had blown up a safe distance from the crashed ship, unable to fulfill the purpose Msera had planned to use it for. All I could think, however, was: Ekkire! Where was he? Had he been caught in that blast?

Ears still ringing, I abandoned my perch and leaped from the tree. I raced toward the blast as fast as I could, booking it straight past the still-confused surviving Thunder Rock hunters. They did not stop me, did not even chase after me, as far as I could tell.

There was a trail of blood leading in the direction of the blast, and I hoped it wasn’t Ekkire’s. Where had he gone? I saw tail marks in the dirt too, and I lengthened my stride to catch up. “Ekkire!” I shouted, heedless of the danger it might draw to me. “Ekkire! Where are you?” I didn’t see him, and when the tracks became a twisted tangle, I knew they’d been fighting here too. A much bigger pool of blood at the edge of that circle of tracks made my heart clench in my chest. There was still no answer, and I was getting awfully close to the blast now.

Coming through the trees, I stepped over the lip of a crater a moment later, my breath catching in my chest as I saw the devastation. The improvised leather wraps around my feet warmed against the ashes. At the center of the chaos lay a wrecked object of twisted, bent metal, as well as the charred coils of a naga. Torn partially apart, the torso was pinned in place by a long shaft. Was it a spear or a trident? Terrified it was Ekkire, I started to approach. Was that body Msera—or my mate?

Dove chirped in dismay, her nose wriggling, but I felt frozen in place. Unable to move forward and check that corpse, certain I didn’t have it in me to verify it was him. I couldn’t… Tears stung my eyes, my throat ached, and my chest felt like it was breaking open. I’d never felt such pain before. Dove nosed my cheek and licked the tears from my face. She chirped, too, loudly. No, wait, that wasn’t Dove. That was Hunter, his pitch slightly lower.

I very slowly twisted my head in the direction of the noise and felt a sliver of relief when I could no longer see the charred, smoking corpse. Hunter was a shimmer of slate blue and glittering amethyst at the edge of the charred crater, screeching his call, dancing through the air, but not approaching. Vaguely, the response stirred something in the back of my mind. Had he not acted much like that each time he and Dove had found a body in the rubble back at the Sun Fang outpost?

I dared not hope, but it fluttered like a trapped butterfly in my chest anyway. My body ached with each step as I ran toward him, a cloud of ash and smoke rising in my wake. As I reached the edge of the crater, Hunter flew away, and I was forced to chase him into a tangle of trees still standing even after the earthquake and the explosion.

Between the dark gray trunks, the purplish-blue grass, and the lavender spring leaves, Ekkire’s green scales were a spot of brightness. I saw the tip of his tail, then coil after coil as I flung myself around a trunk. He lay in a tangle beneath a tree, his head turned toward the earth and a spot of bright red blood matting the back of his mossy green hair. His hand was outstretched, his body spread out as if he’d been thrown there.

I skidded to my knees at his side, reaching for his neck to check for a pulse. The barest flutter under my fingers, so slow, so weak… “Ekkire! I’m here! Wake up, my love!” He did not respond, didn’t move, but his sigils began to glow—a soft golden hue that grew brighter and brighter as I kept my fingers on his throat. He was alive, he was alive! I chanted it in my head, assured myself the glow meant he was going to be fine.

A twig snapped behind me. I spun, rising to my knees, and my bow came up automatically. My hand flew to grab an arrow and aim, all reflex. A naga came through the trees at me, a spear clenched in his fist, blood dripping from several wounds. An arrow jutted from his side, definitely mine, and fury filled his eyes. So I’d been chased after all.

I felt surprisingly calm as I rose to my feet and braced myself in front of Ekkire’s prone body. “You are not getting him, and you’re not getting me either,” I gritted out. My fingers tightened on the string, the arrow drawing back even further until the fletching touched my cheek just below my eye. His gaze locked on the arrow, and I saw the calculations run inside his head. Did he think I’d miss? Did he think I’d shoot so weakly he’d survive long enough to strike the bow from my hands?

“I won’t think twice about killing you,” I said. I wouldn’t. I didn’t even feel the same sense of horror at the thought as I’d experienced earlier. To protect Ekkire, I’d do anything, just as he’d done for me and for my people on the ship. The naga snarled, his dark blue scales glittering as he moved silently closer.

“She means it, leave, or you will die,” a voice said gruffly. It was the most amazing sound I’d ever heard, that voice. I almost lowered my bow, ready to drop back down to his side, but at the last moment I kept the arrow up and aimed. I willed him to retreat, but when he didn’t, I shot. My arrow flew and sank deep into his spear arm. I grabbed a new arrow right away while he was distracted by the pain.

“The next one will kill you,” I warned, and it did not appear he needed a translation for that. He began to back away, eyes locked on my face, then growing wider. They flicked over my shoulder to my left, then to my right. I had the sinking feeling someone had approached from that direction, but I could not allow myself to weaken yet. Not until he was truly gone.

When he vanished from sight, I lowered my bow, the arrow dropping from my aching fingers. I forgot all about that pain as I whirled to face Ekkire again and discovered that he’d sat up and was pressing his hand tightly to the bleeding gash on his scalp. “Ekkire!” I dropped to my knees and threw my arms around his neck, so happy I felt like I could burst. “You’re okay!”

“I’m okay now,” he said gruffly, his free arm curling gently around me and pulling me into his lap. “Did you get my message? Or did you come because of the noise?” Confused, I lifted my head and discovered he was talking to someone else entirely.

Corin and Joxra. They had approached through the trees from behind Ekkire, and perhaps had been there just as the Thunder Rock male fled. Armed with spears and swords, they were watching us with a mixture of shock and surprise on their faces.

“Ah, we saw the kite and launched, then heard the bomb go off. What was that? Blazing stars, it’s the biggest explosion I’ve ever seen,” Corin said. He lowered himself next to us, already digging out his healing device from a pouch on his belt. “You got tossed by the shockwave, Ekkire?” My mate nodded, then winced and tentatively raised his bloody hand to show Haven’s healer and tech wiz the wound.

“I managed to pin Msera to the device with my trident. Oh no, Jasmine—where is Hunter? He was with me!” Ekkire began to rise, swaying awkwardly as he frantically searched for the little sleara. Corin reached out to hold him still, but my guy had already dislodged Corin’s hand holding the healing device, and a new gush of blood ran down the side of his face.

“He’s fine! He’s fine. He brought me to you, stay still, Ekkire.” I didn’t know where he’d gone after that; I’d been too focused on the standoff with that hostile hunter, or worried about Ekkire. I knew he was fine, though. Ekkire did not settle until Hunter dropped from a nearby branch with a chirp and landed on his shoulder.

“Hmm,” Joxra remarked. “Seems like whenever a human goes off on her own, she finds her mate… Congratulations, Jasmine. Ekkire.” I glanced up at him, though I was far more interested in Ekkire and the way he was holding onto both me and Hunter right now. There were wheels spinning in Joxra’s head that I did not think boded well.

“Come on,” Corin said. “I’ve stopped the bleeding. We’ll take care of the rest back at the sky wreck. Sesethul landed in a nearby clearing.” Ekkire rose stiffly, but he kept me tucked under one arm, Hunter riding his shoulder. He even had the presence of mind to dispatch Joxra to retrieve his trident. If he leaned a tad heavily, or glared possessively when Corin got close, I ignored it. He’d earned that right.

Epilogue

Ekkire

We arrived at Haven after a slow, week-long hike I’d very much enjoyed. It had taken a bit of convincing for the Haven naga to let us go by land, but Corin had agreed in the end. It wasn’t as if they needed us at Haven, and Corin could communicate freely with Zathar. Nobody had to worry about either of us during the trip.

Jasmine called it our first honeymoon, and she’d made me promise we’d plan our next trip as soon as we arrived. Each night we slept in our tent together, and each night she let me seed her. If she wasn’t already pregnant, she would be soon, but that wasn’t a thought either of us feared. I welcomed it now, knowing I could have that much richness in my life.

The sleara were a constant source of laughter and company, too. I did not mind going out of my way to hunt Sicty for Dove—her favorite snack—or to share my rationbars with Hunter and his secret sweet tooth. I loved waking up last and discovering warm tea and a meal already waiting for me. And I loved waking first, too, and being the one providing that for Jasmine.

We fit together seamlessly and had fallen into a rhythm that felt balanced. We both preferred limited conversation as we walked, but Jasmine enjoyed sharing stories over the fire in the evenings. She hunted our dinner as often as I did, and sometimes we got lazy and set snares instead. Then there was the pile of sticks one of us always carried for Dove, but neither of us minded that, either.

“You think that was the last of the Thunder Rock hostility? They must have suffered heavy losses and quite a scare, don’t you think?” Jasmine asked me as we turned into the pass that led to Ahoshago. We were almost there, and I was sorry to see the end of this journey come into sight. Though admittedly, I was also eager to see familiar faces and show off my mating sigils to Jasmine.

“Maybe,” I said. “The Queen will have lost status in the eyes of the others. Someone might even overthrow her and take the clan in a new direction. We don’t need to worry about anyone from Sun Fang, though,” I added with a smirk. I was pretty sure we’d swing back their way first in a couple of weeks. Jasmine would be delighted to check in on them, especially Mess, the boy she’d rescued. We’d stick around to help with more of the rebuilding, and then perhaps I’d take her all the way to the wetlands of the Water Weaver clan and show her how the fabrics we traded were made.

“That’s good. I kind of liked it there. You think I can win the competition against Scrai next time?” she mused aloud, her hand lifting to show me her bow. I didn’t have a chance to answer, though I would have proudly said yes. Voices started calling out to us from up ahead, and moments later Haven’s inhabitants came rushing down the hill to greet us.

A blonde female with many spots on her face hugged Jasmine so tightly that she started to protest she couldn’t breathe. Zeidon quietly told me congratulations with a slap on the shoulder, and his ever-present companion, Srazz, nipped at my tail with a huff until I bent down and gave him a handful of Exar berries from my pouch.

“Oh my God!” was a common exclamation, shouted loudly and repeated multiple times. I extracted myself from the tangle of humans, my eyes searching for Jasmine’s to check if she was okay in there. Her grin was wide, her focus on the blonde female, so I assumed she was. She was talking so fast, recounting what had happened, I could hardly keep up.

“Here,” Joxra said a moment later, shoving my trident in my face with a grin and a twinkle in his red eyes. “I asked Krashe to fix it. I think it’s straight again.” I fumbled as I took it from his hands, surprised to feel the familiar shaft again. After the blast, it had been damaged and twisted, and though I’d wanted to keep it, it had become useless. That had saddened me, but I’d considered it a small price to pay for saving Jasmine and the humans on the sky wreck from that blast.

Corin seemed to think it wouldn’t have damaged the ship very much, but the strange, fur-covered alien who was working with him to repair the vessel thought differently. They’d argued about it, but neither had offered to fix my trident. Joxra had, though; he’d thought of asking Krashe.

“Thank you, I owe you,” I said to him. He winked and said nothing, but I knew he’d come back for that favor eventually. The way he was looking at one of the new females in particular made me think it wouldn’t be long, either.

***

Jasmine

I hugged Jolene tightly, relieved to see her so happy and healthy. She hugged back in turn, and then I was hugging all the girls I’d been on the ship with. The ones under my protection then, who were eager to hear how I’d fared in the Serant wilds. I was happy to see all of them, and found it easy to fall into my familiar, cheerful, outgoing persona. It felt less fake, too, because now I had an escape when I needed to recharge. The moment I’d had enough, I knew all I had to do was turn to Ekkire and say that I wanted to leave.

Everyone fawned over Dove, while Hunter played the tough guy and watched from afar or hung out on Ekkire’s shoulder with a hostile look on his tiny face. Jolene’s adoptive naga children quickly began bringing sticks and were soon playing fetch with my sleara.

Later that evening, as a feast was prepared in our honor, I had the chance to thank Vera for her helpful introductory lesson. It made her blush and smile. Then Zathar approached, her mate, sitting down heavily next to me with his arms crossed over his wide, azure chest. “What am I supposed to do with you?” he said with a huff. Fearing a lecture, I braced myself and discovered how quickly my mate responded when I felt uneasy. He materialized out of nowhere and squared up next to me with a warning look on his face.

Zathar spared Ekkire a glance, and I was pretty sure the corner of his mouth tilted just the tiniest bit before he managed to hide it. “I suppose if I’d given you hunter status like you wanted from the start, you would have actually obeyed my orders?” he said. I shrugged, no promises. He looked at Ekkire, then back at me. “I have been lectured by Kalani on the topic, as well as Vera herself.” He shrugged, but his smile for his mate was so warm it made me share a similar look with Ekkire.

“I’m going with Ekkire next week,” I said firmly. “Whether you think I should have hunter status or not. We’ll visit Haven, but home is where we’ll make it, right?” Ekkire nodded, his eyes locked on Haven’s leader. Something was silently communicated between them.

“In that case, I have a task for you,” Zathar grinned. “One that might require a whole lot of traveling, I’m afraid. And yes, hunter status. It’s earned, not given, and you’ve definitely earned it, human.” He slipped away a moment later while I sat, stunned and pleased.

“See, even Zathar knows you’re good,” Ekkire murmured, curling his arms around me from behind and hugging tight. “He would be an idiot not to see it. Now come, I can only stand so much of these festivities. Let’s enjoy them while it lasts.” He drew me with him to the edge of the fire, where Haven bachelors and aspirants were beating festive drums. Couples were dancing and laughing, even the single humans mingling with the naga and showing off moves.

I spotted Joxra lingering at the edge of the crowd just as Ekkire drew me into a slow dance. His moody expression locked on a head of curly brown hair. One of my ship girls, dancing with a human man, also from the ship. Oh boy, that wasn’t good. Perhaps I should tell Zathar what I’d seen. Then Dove flew past, briefly obscuring Joxra from sight. She was followed by Hunter, and Haven’s pair of sleara, Buzz and Kiwi.

“She’s got them all eating out of her paw,” Ekkire remarked. “Clever little female. Now come, I intend to dance with you all night, my mate.” He lowered his head, his mouth brushing my ear. “I love you, but I’ll be even happier when it’s just us again.”

I laughed, tilting my head back to smile at him. “So will I,” I agreed. “And I love you too. So much. But this is nice too.” It was nice. I liked how much everyone welcomed us, how Zathar had come around, and how the hunters nodded respectfully, and how I was welcome at Jolene’s fire any time. All of it was good.

Need more spiciness? Want to go on one of those future adventures with Jasmine and Ekkire? Read the free bonus scene here: https://read.robinoconnor.ink/Wandererbonus 

Joxra is up to no good, read his story next! Keep an eye out for The Naga Rebel’s Stolen Mate: read.robinoconnor.ink/naga12 

Appendix

Important Characters Thus Far:

Zathar: Zathar was the first Prince of Thunder Rock until he was cast out with his friends. After finding his mate, Vera, he sets up a home at Ahoshaga Peak, welcoming outcasts from all Clans to join them there. Zathar has azure blue scales. 

Vera: Once a rich heiress, she was falsely accused and condemned for a crime. She is the first to wake on Serant and with her mate, Zathar, the leader of their ragtag crew of misfits. 

Iave: Best friend of Zathar, this brutish, huge Naga has shimmering midnight scales. He is mated to Kalani, who he considers his Goddess. 

Kalani: A badass former space marine. This African American woman tamed her Brute and mated him (Iave). She is in possession of a relic: a laser rifle from ancient times which is powerful but slowly running out of charge. 

Mox: A former Copper Tooth hunter. This purple Naga rescued his mate, Charlie, and ran with her from his Clan to join the outcasts at their mountain. 

Charlie: Charlie’s stasis pod fell from the shuttle wreck before the ship hit the ground. She ended up in Mox’s marshes where he rescued her, and they mated. Charlie is always upbeat and cheerful. 

Krashe: As the former Warlord of the Bitter Storm Clan, this inventive red-scaled Naga dotes on his mate Naomi. 

Naomi: She confessed to a crime her brother committed to take his place. At fifteen she was in an accident and suffered from an incomplete spinal cord injury which meant she couldn’t walk. With the help of her mate, Krashe, she has now undergone treatment and is slowly learning again. 

Zsekhet: This golden Serqethos male came to spy on Outcast Haven, but stuck around for his mate. He is cheerful, loyal, and outgoing. He is a dragon rider, bonded to his golden dragon Sesethul, and strongly dislikes being underground. He is mated to Cosima. 

Cosima: This small redhead has a traumatic past that she fought to overcome when her mate, Zsekhet courted her. Cosima was a former architect and worked together with Krashe to restore and rebuild the greenhouse. 

Zeidon: This former Water Weaver male possesses powerful intuition, has a tendency to hoard items, and harbors a soft spot for all things cute and furry. His favorite weapon is a trident, and his closest companion is Srazz, a cantankerous Ayala. He is mated to Farah. 

Farah: This former daycare worker was trapped in a stasis pod at the bottom of a lake until Zeidon discovered her and nursed her back to health. She has since adopted a pet Sleara named Buzz. 

Corin: One of the original three outcasts, close friends with Zathar. This silvery-blue Naga is handy with all things technological and fearless when it comes to discovering ancient relics. He also likes to make things go boom. 

Min-Ji: The pilot of the shuttle that crashed, she is curious and kind even though some of the other humans still distrust her for her part in bringing them to this planet. 

Reid: The only human male to survive a crash-landing on Serant, he is a former soldier and highly capable in a fight. He has strong opinions about food and enjoys bickering about it with Naomi. Reid possesses nanobots that enhance his strength, speed, and healing rate, which have proven invaluable in protecting his mate, Sazzie. 

Sazzie: Once the crown princess to the Thunder Rock throne, she is the younger sister of Zathar. With a heart too kind to remain unshielded in the harsh Naga world, she has found her protector in Reid. She has also adopted an Ayala named Sorbet. 

Artek: The Shaman in the region. This white Naga has no affiliation with any of the local Clans. He lives alone in a greenhouse with caves and a fully kitted-out med bay. Artek knows how to use technology and even repair a lot of it but is primarily a healer. He has a mate, Nala, and a half-Terafin daughter, Erin. 

Nala: This endlessly curious human is the mate of Artek, and she lives in his home with him and her baby, Erin. Nala is a cartographer, and currently the only capable of conversing with the captain of the crashed ship. 

Khawla: Once the Master Scout of Thunder Rock, he has muted scales a cross between blue and purple. He has amethyst eyes, black hair, and a dual horn on his chin. He has three younglings with his now dead, fake mate Kusha, that his true mate, Jolene, has adopted. 

Jolene: A blonde human and former nurse. She is a natural leader and hides her fear well. Trapped on the crashed ship. She is mated to Khawla, and as adopted his younglings as her own. 

Jasmine: Asian human girl with a bright blonde streak in her hair, she is a former wilderness guide. Escaped the crashed ship, currently resides at Haven. 

Aks: Older Thunder Rock Naga outcast who spent years in the wild before he joined Haven, he is mated to Xorare. Aks is also an artist who paints beautiful murals. 

Xorare: Former Copper Tooth outcast, a young male who met up with Aks before he joined Haven. He is mated to Aks. Xorare is always eager and curious and writes a ‘paper’ about life at Haven. (Psst! Join my Patreon and you get to read his interviews!) 

Ekkire: A green-scaled Water Weaver Naga who enjoys roaming but somehow keeps getting drawn back to Haven. He is an excellent tracker and a friend of Zeidon. 

Joxra: A former Bitter Storm male who defected when Zsekhet and Cosima were imprisoned there. He has unusual yellow gleams on the edges of his scales and a yellow hue to his eyes. Joxra is the protector of a small Naga baby and two orphans with whom he escaped Bitter Storm. 

Levant: Shaman of the Serqethos Clan, found his mate Felicia frozen in ice on the North Pole. He has black scales, a horn on his chin, and two on his forehead, and green highlights in his black hair. Golden eyes, and green and gold flecks along his scales. 

Felicia: A human test pilot for the Air Force who got stranded on Serant and frozen in ice 1063 years ago. She is blonde with hazel eyes and has bonded with Auby, a small Vakarsa calf robot. 

Clans:

Thunder Rock Clan: These blue Naga are led by an ambitious, violent Queen. Her oldest son, Zathar, has mated Vera and bargained for a truce that allows the outcasts free passage on her land, and to live at Ahoshaga Peak. Thunder Rock territory is verdant woods, hills, and mountains, with plenty of wildlife. 

Copper Tooth Clan: These are purple Naga. They are the only clan with the ability to forge copper, from which they make their spears. Copper Tooth lives in the Rakworm-infested wetlands, which are abundant with huge herds of wildlife. 

Bitter Storm Clan: This hostile Clan, zealously believes all technology is evil, and all things ancient or foreign must be destroyed. They started a war with Thunder Rock which they lost, as they have a major food shortage. 

Water Weaver Clan: A loosely affiliated clan that loves the lakes and waters and travels far and wide. They scavenge for relics wherever they can and pay tribute to their Queen, who lives in their small village atop the water of a giant lake. They also weave marvelous fabrics from fibers harvested from water plants. Males are expected to roam alone, while the females live together in the village. 

Serqethos Clan: A desert dwelling Clan that disallows their females from fighting to the death. They dig for gold and craft this into many jewels, which are coveted and worn by Naga Queens everywhere. They are dragon riders that live in peaceful harmony at a huge oasis with these creatures. 

Sun Fang: A distant neighbor of Thunder Rock. Sun Fang Naga are brown with orange spots, and they are precision archers. They have their own Shaman, and a rather young and unpredictable Queen. 

Animals:

Srazz: This cantankerous mammal looks like a cross between a badger and a porcupine. He has bonded with Zeidon but though his master loves water, he absolutely hates it. 

Buzz: His broken wing landed this purple Sleara in the care of Zeidon, where he bonded with Farah. Buzz is a miniature dragon with velvet scales and a cheerful personality. 

Kiwi: A small, emerald green Sleara. He’s a tiny dragon with suede-like scales. Kiwi has bonded with Naomi and follows her everywhere. 

Sesethul: A mature, dragon, about the size of a passenger plane. He has golden scales and has bonded with Zsekhet since the Naga was seven years old. 

Triff: A small cleaning bot with a tendency to follow Corin everywhere. Triff likes to polish Corin’s scales and hides a very brave and clever heart. 

Zap: This twenty-year-old Ayala has lived a long, happy life. She was rescued by Sazzie as a young Ayala and brought to Artek for healing. Zap wears a golden collar with a protective shield that allows her to roam safely. She is Artek’s closest companion. 

Sorbet: Zap gifted her baby to Sazzie. This young Ayala loves frozen berries, hence her name. Zap gifted her baby to Sazzie. This young Ayala loves frozen berries, hence her name. 

Auby: Auby is short for aubergine because this robotic Varkarsa calf is purple like an eggplant. Auby was frozen in the ice for exactly 1063 years, just like Felicia with whom he bonded.  

Author’s Note

Hi lovely readers!

I feel like this book had a lot of ups and downs personally. My health has been a major struggle, and I had to postpone publishing this one. When I finally did get to write it, it was soooo much fun though! I love grumpy Ekkire, and I really enjoyed adding Dove and Hunter to the mix.

As always, finishing one Naga book makes me extra excited to write the next. As you might have guessed, I’m turning my attention to Joxra next. The rebel… and he’s definitely up to no good.

Extra: There is amazing character art and NSFW art of Jasmine and Ekkire, plus fun chibi art of Dove and Hunter available for my Patreon members!

Much love,

Robin

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About the Author

Robin O’Connor is an author who loves to write about strong, alien heroes and quirky heroines. She lives with her husband and son along with a couple of hundred books (hers, definitely hers) and probably just as many computer parts (her husband’s). Her house therefore probably resembles something like a mad-scientist’s lab on any given day. 

She’s always working on at least a half dozen projects at the same time but is never without time to answer questions, write up funny extras or hang out on social media to speak with her readers.

Find her at:

Her website: www.robinoconnor.ink

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Books by Robin O’Connor

Serpents of Serant

The Naga Hunter’s Lost Mate (novella) 

The Naga Outcast’s Unwanted Mate

The Naga Brute’s Warrior Mate

The Naga Warlord’s Virgin Mate

The Naga Maverick’s Determined Mate 

The Naga Scavenger’s Precious Mate 

The Naga Inventor’s Clever Mate

The Naga Princess’s Soldier Mate

The Naga Shaman’s Pregnant Mate

The Naga Scout’s Daring Mate

The Naga Exile’s Frozen Mate

The Naga Wanderer’s Wounded Mate

The Naga Rebel’s Stolen Mate (coming soon) 

Monster Mercenary Mates

Protected by the Alien Mercenary (novella)

Caught by the Alien Mercenary

Stolen by the Alien Mercenary

Betrothed to the Alien Mercenary

Entangled by the Alien Mercenary

Saved by the Alien Mercenary

Chased by the Alien Mercenary

Tempted by the Alien Mercenary

Claimed by the Alien Mercenary

Stalked by the Alien Mercenary

Seduced by the Alien Mercenary

Desired by the Alien Mercenary (coming soon) 

Gladiators of the Vagabond

Gladiator’s Sanctuary (novella)

Beast Unburdened

Trickster Caught

Deviant Challenged

Feral Tamed

Healer Hunted

Stone Awakened

Doom Averted

Steel Reforged

Warrior Enchanted

Logic Broken

Standalone in the Vagabond Universe

There’s an Alien Down My Chimney

There’s an Elf in My Cockpit

Rescued by the Alien Assassin

Healed by the Orc

Taken by the Gargoyle King

Taken by the Alien Triton King