Page 41 of Fated to the Alien Healer

“I will admit I have always longed for kits, but I also know that Deeka decides who is blessed with them or not.” Kyler grips my hips. “If we do not have any, it will not change how I feel about you. You are still mykeeshla. The female who owns the other half of my soul light and I would not change that for anything. If we are lucky enough to have kits, then I will love them as fiercely as I love you.”

Damn it. I sniff back tears because I’ve shed enough today. “I love you, too. I should have said it before last night, but I was scared. Not anymore though. I don’t ever want you to wonder about or doubt my feelings for you. You are everything I never knew I wanted. Thank you for being patient. More important, thank you for loving me.”

“You are an easy female to love.” Kyler kisses me. “Let me say farewell to Rojtar and then we will join the tribe and celebrate our shefir and shefira’s news with them.”

I nod and wait while he speaks to the other warrior. He’s not long and then he’s back, locking his fingers with mine and guiding me outside. My gaze scans the village. Yes, we’ve seen loss, and there’s still the potential threat of another Njeri attack, but that’s a worry for another day. Tonight, I’m going to join my sisters and toast my friends and family.

When the party’s over, I’m going to go back to the tent I plan on sharing with Kyler—my husband and mate—for the rest of my life, and I’ll remind him how much I love him. Then, I’m going to rock his world.

Epilogue

Rojtar

Various aches linger in my body as I stride through the forest that runs alongside the human settlement with my sparring staff in hand and a sword slung from a belt around my waist. More than half a lunar cycle has passed since Kyler said I could return to hunting. A mellenje calls out and receives an echoing sound in return. Even the winged creatures are taunting me with their mating, reminding me that I am alone as always. I have nokeeshlato laugh with or to share my furs with at night. Instead, I sleep in a large tent with other unmated warriors—most of whom are several seasons younger than me—and dream of the turn when Deeka provides me with a mate.

Except that turn may never come. Not when all the human females of age who belong to our tribe are already mated. Life would be easier if one of the few unmated Tavikhi females was mine, but I have touched them all at their request and not a single one triggered my mating marks. I am not lucky like Zedam or our Bohnari brother and have my mate fall from the sky and crash land here.

My shefira has said that some unmated females remain at the human settlement. But in all the lunar cycles since the humans have been arriving on Tavikh, none have shown any interest in becoming part of our tribe. Not even after the Krijese who used to live under their King Armik’s rule attacked and killed their people. I have been to the humans’ gated village many times while escorting Sage back and forth during her apprenticeship with Kyler and not one female ever caught my eye.Zander and Zydon both said that a sinew cord tugged them toward their mates even before their marks were triggered by them. I have not experienced any tugs. Not once.

I scan my surroundings, staying alert for any signs of prey. Warm season is fully upon us, which means game should be plentiful soon. We made it through the cold season with our stores despite the increase in the number of tribespeople. After the attack that brought our shefira and her tribe sisters to the village, additional humans joined us as well. Mostly mated pairs with kits. We will need to spend the warm season replenishing all our supplies. Especially now that there are more kits on the way.

A shuffling sound draws my attention, and I freeze. My grip tightens on my weapon so I am prepared for whatever may come. More shuffling occurs, but with it comes voices. Human voices. I cannot tell who they are or how many are present. Despite the tentative trust that has been established between our two tribes, there are still humans who do not like the Tavikhi. Being careful not to make any noise or disturb any brush, I move forward keeping my steps light and soft.

“No, you have to do it this way.” That sounds like a kit.

“This isn’t my first snare, Carter. I know what I’m doing,” a feminine voice replies with a hint of impatience.

Through the trees, I finally make out the two forms kneeling on the ground in front of a small burrow that probably housed a den of leburin at one time, but it is clear from the dirt around the opening that it is empty and has been for quite some time. Still, I watch and wait as they maneuver the string around. Or at least as the adult female moves it. The kit is a male and much smaller than her.

I study them and it is clear from their features they are related. They both have hair color similar to Jodah’s mate, Sage, although the kit’s is a brighter shade. Their nose structure matches and they have the same point beneath their lips. It is difficult to tell for sure from this distance, but they appear to have the same eye color as well. Is she the kit’s Nene?

While her technique is fine, there are much better ways to set a trap. Although it does not matter which way either of them do it, they will have nothing to catch from an empty burrow. I should interrupt and let them know they are wasting their time, but I am curious about the couple. They are not familiar to me despite my frequent trips here to escort Sage back and forth between our village and the human settlement. Although I have not returned since the night the shefira and her tribe sisters escaped the Krijese attack many lunar cycles ago.

The female finishes setting up the snare and then she and the kit back away and hide behind a trendafili bush. A whispered exclamation of pain comes quickly as well as a sound to be quiet. The sharp leaves of the flowering bush do hurt a bit, which is why we all take great care to avoid them. It would not have been my choice for a hiding place.

As the sun slowly moves across the sky, the female and the kit remain where they are. Their eyes do not stray far from theburrow entrance as they wait for prey that will never come. The sun has passed its zenith when the female loosens a curse.

“You’re not supposed to swear,” the kit lightly scolds.

The female glares and rises from her crouched position at the same time a male steps into the clearing. He is tall—although not as tall as a Tavikhi—and has broad shoulders and meaty arms. His leg coverings hang below a belly that sticks out slightly and is held up by a piece of leather. The male is much bigger than the female who appears to come no higher than the middle of my chest.

“What are you two doing out here alone?” he asks, coming closer before stopping a short distance away from them. “I told you I’d come along.”

“I didn’t want to inconvenience you. You have more important things to do.” The female places a hand on the kit’s shoulder and guides him slightly behind her. “Carter and I are doing just fine. I appreciate your offer though.”

My gaze takes in the female and kit. Despite the even tone of her words, both are rigid—the female more so—and eye the male with a hint of distrust. I study him harder. There is something in his gaze I do not like. Especially in the way he looks at the female.

“It’s not safe being outside the settlement walls,” the male tells her. “You need someone to look after you, Abby. A protector.”

Abby. I repeat the name in my head and enjoy the way it sounds.

“I’ve already told you Lewis, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and don’t need your protection,” her voice is firm. “It’s perfectly safe as well. Those creepy aliens stopped attackingmonths ago and you know the purple alien leader told Gary and Adam that most of them had been killed anyway.”

ThisLewistakes a step forward and another. “What about wild animals? You know there are any number of predators out here who are just looking for easy prey to snap up.”

Abby and the kit—Carter—move backwards away from the male trying to put more distance between them, but he continues creeping closer. A scent carries on the breeze. It is bitter, unpleasant, and familiar. I have often smelled the same odor from a small creature right before it is overrun by a larger one. It is fear and it comes from the female and the kit.

I step out from behind the tree. “The female is correct. They do not need you as a protector because they already have me.”

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