She is beautiful, my Asha. Fiery and beautiful.
“Very well, then,” I murmur. “Tell me about your haw-lee-dehz.”
Asha’s chin goes up, a challenging look on her face. “Are you going to listen or have you already made up your mind?”
She knows me well, my once-mate. I cannot help but smile and gesture at an open spot on the floor between spread-out skins. “You can sit and tell me about it as I work. I promise I will listen to everything you say.”
“Good,” Asha says, a little imperiously, and I have to bite back an even wider smile. Some of the hunters find Asha’s attitude irritating, but I have always loved how strong and sure she is. I do not mind if she is thorny. Her challenging nature is one of the things I love about her, and one of the things I have missed the most.
She shepherds Claire over to the empty spot on the floor and then sits next to her. When Claire hesitates, Asha gives her an encouraging gesture, indicating that she should speak. I find this fascinating. Is it Claire that is in charge of this, or is it Asha? My fierce mate seems to have adopted Claire as a friend—startling to me, considering I have rarely seen this particular human mingle with the sa-khui. She went from Bek to Ereven and seems content to let others speak. Perhaps this is why she gets along with Asha. My mate will never let others speak for her, not if she can help it.
I feel another pang of sadness in my gut. At least, that is how the old Asha would have acted. I am not sure I even know the new Asha.
Today, however, it seems like the old Asha has returned. I continue my stitching as the two females speak. Claire’s timid voice barely registers in my thoughts, though I murmur agreement to indicate I am listening. She speaks of human traditions and gift-giving and presents, but I am less interested in that than in watching my once-mate. Asha nods as Claire speaks, as if agreeing with what the human says. She occasionally adds a thought or two, and it is clear they have been hard at work thinking out this ‘No Poison’ celebration. It is also clear from the tension in Asha’s shoulders and the stiff set of her back when our eyes meet that this is important to her.
If it is important to Asha, it is important to me. No more needs to be said. I wait for the females to pause, and then I nod slowly. “You have convinced me. What shall I do?”
Claire looks pleased, but her response is nothing compared to the triumphant look of pleasure on Asha’s lovely face. I am entranced by my mate’s response, and my cock—and my khui—both respond to her nearness. I feel my chest thrumming low, a rumble of pleasure at her presence. Her startled gaze meets mine, and then a scowl moves over Asha’s face as I hear her khui quietly respond to mine. She does not like that I can still make her sing. Her pride is still wounded that I walked away from our mating.
Someday she will understand that I did it for her. That I finally understood that my presence was making her miserable, and I left because I could not bear to be yet another thing that caused her pain. Ask me to return, I beg silently. Tell me that you miss me in your furs. That you miss the warmth of our bodies together. Tell me that you miss my smile like I miss yours. All will be forgotten in an instant and we can be back together tonight. Now. In the next moment.
But Asha only lifts her chin, her eyes narrowing at me. She hears my song and she does not like it.
She needs more time. Very well.
“Wonderful,” Claire says, oblivious to the tension simmering between myself and Asha. “We’re going to start the calendar of events on the first bad weather day of the next moon-turn.” She pulls out a skin and unrolls it, then gets out a piece of charcoal. “I’m going to record who you get for your secret gift partner, and you’ll need to make that person a series of small gifts and trinkets to be given out every celebration day. We have eight of them, so you’ll need to make eight gifts.”
I nod in understanding, my gaze locked with Asha’s combative one. “And what if I wish to give someone else a gift?”
“It is not allowed,” Asha replies sharply. “You are to give gifts to your secret partner.”
“Oh, actually, that’s quite fine,” Claire says in a timid voice, and earns a quick frown from Asha. “I mean, the holidays are all about giving and lifting each other up. It’s perfectly fine to give as many gifts as you choose. You just need to make sure that you do the eight small gifts for the secret exchange to be fair to the person you are assigned. Think of it like a game. The eight gifts are part of the rules. Anything you do outside is your own business, of course.”
My mate does not look as if she enjoys being contradicted by mild Claire, but she eventually shrugs. “Give gifts to whoever you want. I care not.”
“Is that so?” I say, deliberately baiting her. No one has ever accused Asha of caring too little. She is a hot flame of emotion, my mate, and burns hottest in an argument. Her scowls please me, though. An irritated Asha is a welcome sight after her sadness for so long. I will take her venom happily.
“Just be careful you do not overburden yourself with your gift-giving, Hemalo,” Claire advises me, making lines on the rolled-up hide with the charcoal. At any other time, I might be interested in what she is doing. Today, with Asha seated in front of me, so fierce and so achingly like her old self that it makes my heart beat fast—and ache with need at the same time—I cannot concentrate on anything but my mate. Claire continues, oblivious. “Can you have him draw and let me know what he picks?”
Asha gives me another defiant look. She pulls out a small pouch she has at her belt and opens it up, then holds it out to me. “Pick one strip and give it to me.”
Interesting. I decide not to prick at her any longer and obediently reach into the pouch. I pull out a small strip of worn leather that has more of the strange charcoal lines on it and hold it out to Asha.
“Here, Claire,” Asha says, giving her the slip. “What does it say?”
Claire looks up and peers at the scrap, then nods. “Maylak is your secret partner.”
I grunt. I have known Maylak ever since she was a small kit, and it is easy to think of things to give her: a new pouch for her favorite tea, hoods and boots for her kits, a new blanket for her to share with her mate, soft leather so she can create a new tunic for herself… “I am pleased.”
“Hmph.” Asha does not look happy. “That is too easy. He should draw a different name. Claire, make him draw again.”
“Oh, but I don’t think…” Claire purses her lips. “Is there a problem with it being Maylak?”
“Yes,” Asha says at the same time that I say “No.”
I am surprised at Asha’s displeasure. “I like Maylak very much,” I say. “I can make her some very lovely gifts.”
Asha just makes a harrumphing noise and crosses her arms. Claire looks uneasy, as if she has stepped into something unpleasant.
“Do not worry,” I cannot help but tease. “I will make you something far more spectacular, Asha.”
“Do not bother,” she says in a tart voice, though I can tell my suggestion has pleased her. “Make your silly gifts for the healer. I need nothing from you.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” I reply. “Are you sure you need nothing?” Her nostrils flare, and she licks her lips, her tongue darting between sharp teeth. My cock aches again. When she doesn’t respond, I continue. “Perhaps I will think of something to give you that you might want.”