Barbarian's Touch: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 8) (17 page)

You resonate to me. I resonate to you.
There’s pride and hunger in his face as he signs the words to me.
You are my mate.

Whoa. What? He just made the joined finger sign indicating we’re mated as in a married couple?
Could you repeat that?

He does.
You are my mate. We resonate. Now that we have hand-words, I can teach you about resonate.
He leans forward and taps my breast.
Your cwee chooses a mate for you. It finds you the male that is perfect for you, and you resonate to him. I resonate to you, you resonate to me. We are mates.

My eyes widen. This entire time, I’ve thought he was my boyfriend and I’m his wife?
So it’s decided? Just like that?

Just like that
, he agrees, a pleased expression on his face.
I have been waiting for you to understand so we can mate
— this time he uses the
sex
version of the ‘mate’ sign -
and then we will return to the tribe cave and start our family.

I am stunned into silence at this. For a long moment, I can think of nothing to say. Then, I have to ask.
Family?
Babies?

Yes. Resonate always brings babies. It is the reason for resonate. Mate and baby.

Okay, so my parasite has decided that I get a husband and kids and I get no say in this? I’m not sure I’m ready to take care of a baby or be a mom - I’m still learning to take care of myself on this planet.
What about birth control?

I do not understand.

Oh God. I rub my forehead, trying to think. I keep circling back to the resonate part. The parasite chooses a mate for me? Is that why Hassen stole me? He was trying to get me to choose him? I think back to all the expectant looks he constantly shot me. No wonder he was so hands off when we saw him again. I thought it was baffling - but welcome - at the time. Now I know the truth - he didn’t look at me because I was off the market.

And all this affection for Rokan? This lust? This need for him?

It’s not mine at all. It belongs to the parasite. None of what we have is real.

None of it.

That
really
hurts.

T
he look
on my Li-lah’s face is alarming. She looks broken. Like Asha did when her kit died in her arms. Her expression looks as if she has lost something that means much to her. I go through our conversation, trying to follow why it would upset her so. We spoke of resonance and kits.
Do you not wish to resonate to me?
I ask her, my own heart hurting.

Does it matter
? She signs back rapidly.
It does not sound like I have a choice.

Resonance always picks the right mate, the best mate. We will be happy together.

Because it’s forcing us
, she signs, and then begins to cry.
None of this is real.

Her sorrow hurts me. I hate that she weeps. I hate that this pains her. I would give anything to make it go away.
It is real. Why do you say it is not?

Because you wouldn’t like me if this thing weren’t forcing you to.
She taps her breast.
It’s pulling our strings like we’re puppets. What we feel between us isn’t real if it’s pushing us together.
She swipes angrily at her cheeks.
I should have known it was too good to be true. That you were too good to be true.

I reach out and capture her hands to get her attention. The words she is saying are upsetting and make no sense. When she glares up at me, I sign to her.
You and I are mates. Just because resonance is what brings us together does not change what I feel for you. You have always been mine.

She shakes her head.
That’s a lie. You only wanted me after you started purring.

I came for you even before that happened.

Her brows go down and she looks frustrated.
I thought everyone was out looking for me.

No,
I sign.
I sent the others back. I knew I would find you.

Now she looks even more confused.
What do you mean, you knew?

I shrug.
I knew. I just knew. I always know.

What do you mean, you always know? Why are you not making any sense?
She puts her hands to her face and speaks in a low voice. “Why is it that now that we can sign, you make even less sense than before?”

I ignore her frustration. She is misunderstanding. It happens with the humans, who choose their mates differently than we do. Patiently, I keep signing.
I know things. I sense things before they happen.

She gives a little moan of frustration.
So now you’re psychic in addition to my fated mate?

I do not know if psychic is good or bad. Or even what it is.
I have always known things. And I knew when I saw you that you were to be my mate. It is why I feel so strongly for you.

Li-lah signs back angrily.
No, you feel strongly for me because I am your mate. If there was no cwee, you would feel nothing for me. How would you feel if we hadn’t resonated?

That does not make sense.

How does it not make sense?

Because you are mine. Of course we resonated.

She throws her hands up in the air, then signs,
I give up. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I need time to think.

Are you angry that you are my mate?

I am angry that it’s making me care for you!

Why?

Because I can’t tell if what I feel is real or if it’s all pretend because it wants us to sleep together.

It does not want us to sleep. It wants us to mate. Afterward, we can sleep.

Her eyes narrow at me.
Conversation done. I’m not talking to you anymore.

Why not?

I need time to figure out my feelings.
She gestures in a ‘done’ motion and then storms to her feet, moving to the fireside.

I watch her go, confused by her reaction. What did I say that was so bad? Is being my mate and having my kits such a terrible thing? She has enjoyed my kisses and my mouth until now. Now, she acts as if this is upsetting.

I do not understand. Li-lah has always been soft and welcoming in my arms before. Why would she think anything has changed? She has and will always be my mate. It does not matter if we resonated or not.

She is mine.

* * *

L
i-lah does not want
me in her furs that night. I ignore the stab of betrayal I feel and make my own bed. My anger at being pushed out gives way to helpless frustration when I hear her quiet crying in the dark. She is clearly upset by whatever she has learned. My attempts to hand-talk to her are ignored and she will not look at me.

She is being stubborn, my mate. And until she will talk to me, I can do nothing about it.

I do not sleep at all that night. My body aches for hers, and my heart aches to comfort her and make her tears stop. She will not let me, so I wait in quiet agony for her to fall asleep. When her breathing finally evens out, I still cannot rest. I spend the evening keeping the fire burning, because she does not have my warm body to curl up against, and she will be cold.

In the morning, Li-lah is composed. She sips her tea, and then looks me in the eye. She sets down her tea-cup and begins to sign.

I have made a decision
, she tells me.

I am listening.

I know that you think what we have is real, but I am not convinced. I need time to think about whether or not this is me that’s attracted to you, or whether it’s the cwee.

I say nothing. She does not realize the two are intertwined. If she was not perfect for me in every way, my khui would never have resonated. That is why she did not respond to Hassen; he was not right for her. But I understand her frustration. She thinks time will help, but I know better.
Time will only make the hunger greater,
I tell her.
Your body will crave mine. You will want to mate.
She makes a face, and I continue.
That is not arrogance, that is how resonance works. Do you not feel a great need for me already?

Even though it is shadowy in the cave, I can tell her cheeks are heating. She has an embarrassed look on her lovely face.
I am not going to answer that.

Your khui will make you ache for me,
I sign to her, deciding to be bold.
I have tasted the sweet honey between your thighs and I know this is true. Just like the thought of your hand on my skin makes my cock ache. These are truths, no matter if you choose to believe them or not. But I will wait for you
.

She raises her hands to sign, then drops them. She does not know what to say.

That is fine. I know what I wish to tell her.
You are my heart, always. I can wait for you to realize that.

Li-lah licks her lips, the tiny gesture sending an ache through my body.
Well
, she signs.
Until I decide, what do we do?

We continue as we have
, I tell her.
I will teach you how to hunt and to build traps. Whether or not you choose to remain at my side, you must be able to take care of yourself.

She nods, a smile curving her mouth for the first time in many long hours.
I would like that.

Over the next few days, I slowly come to the realization that Rokan isn’t wrong about most of the things he’s told me.

Is it wonderful to be able to speak to him? To really speak to him? Absolutely.

Do I crave him like I crave chocolate when I’m PMS-ing? God, yes.

Has anything changed about how I feel? Nope.

Is he pushing me? Nope. In fact, he’s not acting any differently at all, other than when he’s happy, he doesn’t reach out to touch me like he used to. And I’m sad that I find myself missing it. I keep wanting to grab his flicking, crooked tail when we are sitting near the fire at night and pet it, but I force myself not to.

But do I want to touch him because I like him? Or because the cwee inside me thinks we should be soulmates? That’s the part I keep getting stuck on. Is it my choice or is it just the parasite messing with me? And if it is just the parasite, how am I going to feel after the ‘need’ it’s shoving down my throat is fulfilled? Will I wake up one day and be completely blah about Rokan? That worries me, too. Because right now I like him so much and he makes me feel so good that I’m terrified of losing that.

I’m paralyzed with indecision.

I’ve been reading up on the computer for the last few days about this whole ‘resonance’ thing, too. Rokan wasn’t lying about it, which doesn’t surprise me - I don’t know that he’s capable of lying. He’s right that it’s a sort of supercharged forced mating, and with my khui (the spelling according to the computer) resonating, I’m in a constant state of amped-up ovulation and will be until he puts a baby inside me. It’s a species propagation instinct, apparently, and it works for all intelligent life with a khui, humans included.

So that’s fun.

I’m not griping about my partner, of course. If I had to pick someone, I’d pick Rokan. He’s sexy, smart, understanding, and kind. I just…I liked the way things were. Now, everything’s changing and I don’t know what to do. I feel terrified of picking the wrong path. Which is funny, because half the time I don’t feel like there’s even a path to pick.

I need a sign. And not in one of those woo-woo ways that Rokan claims he can sense. I need a real, honest-to-goodness sign that Rokan really is my mate, and that we’re more than just compatible genetically. I need to know that what I feel is real, and what he feels for me won’t fade the moment I’m pregnant.

Rokan’s been a saint, of course. He’s given me space and acted as if nothing’s changed, which I appreciate and yet makes me even crazier. Sometimes I just want him to grab me and show me that it’s not just the khui compelling him. That he wants me for me.

And then I think of him telling me that
I am perfect
, and I want to stick my hand down my pants and relieve some of the overwhelming need I feel.

But I’d rather have him do it.

Instead, he takes me hunting. And fishing. And we build traps. We keep the Elders’ Cave (as he calls it) as our home base and take to the snowy hills every day to continue my education. For now, we’re staying here. Maybe I should be upset that he’s not taking me back to my sister, but my thoughts are so consumed with Rokan and this thing between us that I haven’t thought about Maddie much, and that makes me feel guilty. I know she has to be worried sick.

I’m a bad sister.

This morning, Rokan is quiet. Normally he greets me with a morning cup of tea and we go over the things he wants to teach me that day, like I’m his apprentice. It’s another thing that drives me crazy - it’s like he’s able to turn off the whole need thing and talk about setting snare traps and fish cages while I keep watching his hands and picturing him doing naughty things with his fingers. Half the time he has to repeat his signs because I’m distracted. But today? Today he’s not chatty.

Tea
? I ask, sitting down next to him by the fire.
Then we go out and check traps?

He thinks for a moment, and then shakes his head.
Not today.

What do you mean, not today?

Today we shall stay in the cave. I do not like how the weather feels.

I look past him and squint at the open doorway. Sunlight pours in, and the snow that normally piles around the entrance is melty-looking.
The weather? It’s sunny!

He nods and fills my teacup, then holds it out to me.
It is. But I do not like the way it feels.

I roll my eyes and take my drink from him, blowing on it. More of this psychic stuff? Seriously? That’s what got us into this in the first place, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for him having a ‘feeling’ he wouldn’t have come after me. Is he trying to convince me that there’s more to his ‘feeling’?

I take a few sips of my tea and then set the cup down so I can talk.
What about the traps we set yesterday? You said we had to check them first thing.

Rokan shrugs.
They will be empty, then. I do not care.

But we worked so hard.

Sometimes we work very hard for nothing. Such is the way of the hunter.

Okay, well that’s crap. This is the best weather we have seen in days. You said yourself the traps would be full this morning, and we’re just going to let all that meat go to waste? I hate that. It doesn’t make sense to me. One of the things you’ve taught me is that nothing goes to waste. Except now because you don’t like the sunlight, we’re going to let a bunch of meat go to waste? I don’t get that.

He rubs his chest, gazing at me thoughtfully. Then, he nods.
Very well. We will go. I do not like it, but we will go.

Why?
I ask.
Why don’t you like it?

He shrugs.
I do not know.

Great answer
, I think to myself, but I’m just being bitter because he used to greet me with kisses and affection, and now he just hands me a cup of tea and talks about hating the weather. It’s just another thing I’ve ruined, I guess. Frustrated, I turn to my pack and pull out my hunting gear. Dressing for the weather - even with the sun out - takes time, and it’ll get my mind off of how distracted he is this morning.