Page 35 of Healing His Mate

I still feel her thick mane wrapped around my fingers as I tugged, letting her know I had her. That she could let go of the control she constantly seeks and let me care for her the way she needs.

When my fingers spread inside her cunt and brushed against her k'billita, she spasmed all around me. Remembering the moment she came, covering my hand with her juices––that is what pushes me over.

I press my fist against my mouth as I roar into it, spraying my release all over the walls. It is then that I realize how little the tether matters. It can appear or not. That will not change how I feel.

Nalba is mine.

CHAPTER 18

NALBA

Icannot contain the giggle that rises in my throat as I wipe up the remaining bvateefrom the floors of my shop.It is everywhere. I am certain years will pass and I will continue to discover little patches of bvateecaked onto boxes and beneath shelves. It was great fun, I must admit––chasing Waldric around the room as if we were children, throwing colorful mush at each other.

Perhaps this is why I found my shop in such disarray when I awoke. Had Old Nalba just participated in a food battle?

I suppose it is not impossible, but I highly doubt it. That mess was not like this mess. That mess was mostly made up of refuse that had not been discarded, dust covering the surfaces, and food that, at one time, was fresh and colorful, but had faded into a drab gray. It was a sad mess.

This? This is a happy mess.

Waldric actually believed he could best me in a food battle. Why? Because he handles food all day long? What a silly male he is.

And beautiful . . . in a rugged, yet soft kind of way.

I should have kissed him. His lips wereright there.

A knock sounds at the door, busting through my thoughts of Waldric’s perfect mouth. Could it be Cloh-ee back for more work? No, she said she would not return this day.

When I open the door, it is not Cloh-ee. Or anyone I recognize from the clan. This face is long, angular, and unfamiliar. Then I notice his mane. Short and silver.

Him.

The male I rubbed my body against in the flash of memory I had the first time I kissed Waldric.

What is he doing here?

“Nalba,” he greets in a slightly bored tone. He passes me, entering my shop, and begins undressing immediately.

“What are you doing?” I demand, sneaking a glance at the stairs, hoping Waldric is still in the washroom. “Who are you?”

His shirt is off, revealing his lean, chiseled chest and stomach muscles. He holds the shirt in his hands, tilting his head to the side. “Are you joking with me?”

Thoroughly annoyed with having to explain this again, I summarize in a rush, “I was thrown against a tree and hit my head and now I have lost five years of memories. I remember nothing from my time here. I do not know who you are or what you are doing here, but I ask that you please put your tunic back on.”

“Ah,” he replies, stunned. “Many apologies on your current predicament, Nalba. That is not ideal.”

I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to answer my questions.

He seems to notice my impatience and tugs his shirt back on. “I am Lahkzo, hunter for the clan. I have been away for many days and did not know about your injury. Apologies for the miscommunication.” He strides toward the door, but I stop him.

“Wait! Why did you come here?”

He turns, shooting me an arrogant grin over his shoulder. “When I return from a hunting excursion, we mate. Typically, we continue mating until I leave again.”

Oh. “We are pleasure mates, then?” I did not even consider that I might be somewhat . . . entangled with another male.

“I suppose so,” he says with a casual shrug. “We have never discussed what we are to each other.”

His gaze holds no affection. His body language does not indicate any strong feelings toward me. If anything, he looks put out by the continued conversation. This is my pleasure mate? Him?

---