Page 35 of You're Not My King!

I drew closer and his scent had me boiling inside, filling with a raging need to take him. I ignored it. I could be more than a rutting male. It was the Ly’zrd way to please our unhappy mates sexually, but considering the hoo-man’s reaction on our bonding night and my promise to the healer, I would have to come up with an alternative. A gift of some sort. I had noticed his appreciation for my craft in our hut—perhaps a carving would please him.

I crouched beside him, and the little thing’s face lit up briefly before his eyes dropped to my bare cock, widening in shock before returning to his task. A stunning flush formed on the apples of his cheeks, and perhaps I should have dressed before approaching, but I enjoyed watching him squirm.

I tapped his hand, making his breath hitch. “What is?”

Roo-bin blinked, and the smirk that formed upon my lips was a reflex reaction.

“Oh, um, itz-a scaarf.”

I was not familiar with the word, however, it looked similar to one of the neck swaddles Healer Fee-oh-nah was fond of. “Teach?”

He looked up at me in disbelief, searching my face. “You want me to teach you to crow-shay?”

I nodded.

“Awl-rrite,” he said after a pause, and I guessed that meant yes. He shuffled, making the gap larger between us, but before my brow could even furrow, he patted the green sand beside him and said, “Sit.”

If another had given me that order, I would have threatened them with a gnash of fangs and banishment, but… I mirrored his position, crossing my legs as he had, though it was less graceful than I would have liked. Roo-bin snorted under his breath, disguising the sound with a cough.

I sent him a dry look.

“Sorry,” he said, the tone suggesting otherwise. “Why, um… Why d-yaa want to learn?”

I frowned, the answer plainly obvious. “Spend time with my hoo-man.”

His blush really was pretty. “Oh-kay, I will deh-mon-stray-t, then you can follow my lead, yes?”

I nodded, half-listening, half-concentrating, but Roo-bin smiled at me sweetly, making it difficult. There was a lot of fiddling involved with crow-shay. I caught him hooking and tugging a string through a barely-there hole, somehow ending up with a chain, but after that, I was baffled.I stared at him blankly, unsure how to proceed with this trickery and cursing what I had gotten myself into.

Roo-bin laughed easily and shuffled closer, almost slotting underneath my arm before demonstrating again. “Right… Slower…”

I tried my best to focus, though the warmth of his body was diverting.

“Wrap the yah-rn over the hook, pull this bawe-tum bit out, then slide it through.” And again, even slower. “Over the back, tweest hook, slide it through. Here, you try.”

He handed me the hook and string, and with fumbling fingers and a frown, I attempted to mirror his actions. It did not work. My loop was not uniform to his, and when I tried again, it only got worse. Scoffing, I aimed to pass the infernal creation back, but my mate rested a hand on mine and shook his head.

“Try again.”

“Ruined,” I grumbled, and he squeezed my hand tighter.

“Not ruined, different. I can make more. Keep going.”

I obliged him, snarling whenever I missed a step, but preening whenever I succeeded. “Right?”

“Yes, thah-t-zit,” he said, voice encouraging, gaining enthusiasm as I built confidence. “Back, tweest, slide. Back, tweest, slide. Vo’ak, you got it! You can crow-shay!” He shook my shoulder, beaming up at me with something akin to pride.

I puffed out my chest at my mate’s praise, pleasure welling inside me, and I kept going. Roo-bin did not appear to hold tension as he had earlier, and I felt a peace that I had not in many moons. Sitting with my mate, learning from him was something I would strive to do more often. He was a patient and thorough tutor. Perhaps he would enjoy passing on the skill to younglings.

“I taw-t my sister this, too, but she waw-zunt really interested. You are a better stoo-dunt.” I did not understand his meaning, but it sounded positive, so I grinned, thoroughly content.

Roo-bin switched between showing me more intricate loops in the crow-shay and talking. It was comfortable. While I only caught a few important details, such as mentions of his family, it felt pleasing to listen and watch how his pretty, decorated lips moved. His pale eyes were unbelievably expressive, and once he was in full flow, his emotions and scent simplified anything I could not figure out through speech. I witnessed a weight leave my mate’s shoulders, his wiry frame loosening with every musical breath, as if all he had needed was to release his words.

It was much more fulfilling than dealing with threats of civil war, and I was proud to have gained enough trust to be present for it.

I would still sit with Healer Fee-oh-nah for extra lessons in the Earthling’s language as I had been, absorbing more phrases to be able to converse with my mate and learn, truly, what had him in a constant state of sorrow. I was aware that the hoo-man required time to settle into his role and new life, and though he conversed vaguely about his past, I sensed something deeper distressed him, something buried under the wit and reservation.

I would know everything about him.

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