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VEKTAL
All night long, my khui thrums with contentment in my chest.
I have claimed my mate. Over and over, she’s welcomed me into her small, soft body, until we’re both exhausted from pleasure. Being with a resonance mate is like no other feeling; I am pleased to my very marrow with my sweet Georgie. I cannot wait to return to the tribal caverns with her. My hand caresses her soft skin even as she snores in my ear, the sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the cave-mouth covering.
I cannot wait for her to swell with my child. Our child. My khui was wise to pick her, even though she is small. She is strong in heart and spirit, and creative and enthusiastic in the furs. She doesn’t resonate for me. Not yet. But when she carries a khui, she will thrum with pleasure at my touch, like I do at hers.
From now until my spirit departs this plane, there shall be none for me but her.
I touch her sleeping features reverently, memorizing them. She’s a strange, tiny thing and soft all over, but her cunt grips my cock so tightly it’s an ecstasy that cannot be described. Her taste is sweet, but the expressions she makes as I fill her with my cock? Even sweeter.
I look forward to tonight, when I will drag my Georgie back to bed until she’s mewing with exhaustion but still eager for more as I pump into her.
I press my mouth to hers to wake her. “Georgie?”
Her eyes, still so dull and lifeless without the shine of a khui, flutter open. It will need to be remedied and soon, I decide. She looks tired, the circles under her eyes deep against her pale skin.
“Vektal,” she murmurs happily and slides a hand down my chest, which starts my khui to thrumming again.
“Mountain?” I ask her, raising a brow with amusement as she tries to burrow back under the blankets and return to sleep.
That wakes her up. “Mountain?” she asks, eyes wide.
I nod. “Dress yourself. I will check the traps, and then we will go.”
“Dnno wutyew sd butlessgo.” She looks excited, flinging her pale arms around the cave and searching for her discarded clothing.
It takes some convincing to get her to stay in the cave while I go out to check the traps, but with hand gestures and our few words, I manage to relay that I will go much faster if I am alone. She kisses me frantically before I leave, as if ensuring that I’ll return for her.
As if anything would ever keep me from her side again.
Rubbing my pulsing chest, I smile to myself and trudge through the snow. Yet another night of steadily falling powder, and the trails are almost entirely covered. I have walked these grounds many times in the past, though, and know exactly where to set my traps for them to yield prey. Since it is just Georgie and me, my traps are small and their catches, even smaller. Were I hunting for my people, I would seek dvisti, bring them down, and then bury them in the snow with a marker until a party could be sent back later to retrieve the bounty. This morning, though, I have two quilled beasts and a small hopper to feed my Georgie. There is no nearby stream, so I gather pure, sweet snow in my skin and then hold it against my chest so it can melt.
I check all my traps, and it’s not until I’m returning back from the last one that I notice an oddly-shaped lump in the newly fallen snow. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I approach it, then nudge it with a boot to uncover what lies underneath.
It’s a foot. Small, bare, and five-toed—like my Georgie.
It’s frozen solid.
As I stare down at it, I realize my Georgie’s not here alone. This is why she’s so frantic to get up the mountain. There are others like her.
Or . . . there were.
PART FOUR
GEORGIE
Vektal’s out checking traps and getting me some Not-Hoth breakfast. Since I’m stuck at the cave, I decide that today I’m going to leave with the blankets instead of abandoning them here at the cave like we did last time. Vektal has already indicated that he wants me to be ultra-bundled when we leave, and since we’re heading up the mountain, I want blankets for the other girls. The only way that’s going to work is if I can wear them.
So I’m busy slicing makeshift ties out of the lining of my jacket and poking holes through the edge of one of the furs with my knife to make it a cloak. I’m not much for sewing, especially with these terrible supplies, but it’s something to do while I wait on Vektal to return. I’m testing my second “cloak” when Vektal rushes back to the cave, his glowy-eyes frantic.
I get up, alarmed. “What is it?”
He grabs me and pulls me against his chest, stroking my hair. He’s breathing hard, and this might be the first time I’ve heard him winded. Normally nothing fazes him.