She takes my face between her palms and makes a lot of sounds. I can see tears forming at the corner of her eyes, and I still don’t know why she is upset or why she is refusing me. Does she think we don’t have enough stores for winter? Her hide on a stick has seen to it that we do. There is even extra, so we can be sure she gets enough to eat even if a baby starts growing inside of her.
With my thumb, I reach up to brush the tear from her eye, and her gaze drops with her hand. She touches her stomach for a moment and then waves her hands in the air as she makes more loud sounds. I cringe at the sound, and Beh sighs heavily before taking my face in her hands again.
Her mouth moves, and soft sounds come forth. I close my eyes and wish the sounds would stop, and she would just let me be inside of her.
She doesn’t.
The next day, we go back to the lake, taking the hide on a stick with us. Though I still marvel at how well it works to carry things back to our cave, I can’t concentrate on anything. I haven’t slept well in three nights now, and I am tense and frustrated with my mate.
It is a little warmer, and Beh removes her wrap and the little pink bits of cloth to wash herself in the lake. Just looking at her body upsets me, knowing that for whatever reason, she will no longer let me touch her in that way.
Beh reaches down into the water with one of the little pieces of fabric she cut up and uses it to rub soaproot under her arms and around her neck.
I want her, and not being allowed to have her is really, really making me angry.
With a growl, I pick up the piece of flint I have been working on, turn, and stomp toward the edge of the forest. I hear Beh call to me, but I ignore her. I plop down in the grass away from her and turn my back, not even glancing in her direction as I continue to pretend to work.
The flint piece is too small, and the rock I use to knock pieces away from the core of the stone is too hard for any delicate work, even when I reduce it to a usable size. It ends up breaking, so I mostly tap away at the pieces, flicking bits of sharp flint all over the place and not really caring what I might end up with when I am done. Beh calls to me as she finishes her bathing, and I look up to see her walking toward me.
I glare at her out of the corner of my eye but don’t move. She places her hands on her hips, and loud sounds come from her mouth. Raising my shoulder a little blocks my vision because of the thick wrap around me, and I can’t see her glaring eyes. My head already aches from the lack of sleep and the glaring sun, so I turn away from her and begin to tap at the flint again.
Beh goes quiet, and a moment later I look up, just to see where she is. She is only barely visible at the edge of the water where she sits near the large, flat rock where she usually tries to shape clay. She smashes her fingers into the muck and smacks it around on the stone. I go back to my own work after a couple of deep breaths.
I don’t know if I am angry about her rejection, sad about it, or afraid she will never let me touch her again. Memories of being alone through the last winter—the nights of howling winds, the cold chill as I huddled by the fire and stared at the embers, and the pain in my stomach that was not just from hunger—flood through my head. As I remember what it is like to be without anyone, I realize that if Beh never lets me put my penis inside of her again, having her with me is still be better than how it was. As long as she lets me hold her close to my chest, protect her, and keep her warm, everything will be all right.
With her, I feel complete and content.
I smile a little at the realization. Even though she does not let me inside of her, she still lets me put my mouth on hers, and she still stays in my cave. She keeps me company in our furs at night, and when she smiles at me, I feel warm inside.
I don’t care about anything else.
I brush the flint chips from my lap and look up at my beautiful mate as she smashes clay against a rock. I stare at her as my smile brightens, and just as I am about to get up and go to her, movement near the edge of the forest closest to Beh captures my attention.
There is a man approaching her quietly from behind.
His hair is light in color and tied back against his neck with a piece of sinew, and his beard is thick. He wears fur wraps much like my own—from the simple cloak around his shoulders to the tied and wrapped fur piece around his midsection that hangs part way down his thighs. He has foot and leg coverings that nearly reach his knee. He is older and larger than I am, and he walks with purpose toward my mate.
Everything happens in the flash of time it takes me to get to my feet.
Without hesitation, he grabs Beh around her waist, and she lets out a startled cry as he pushes her to the ground. I can see the look on her face turn from annoyance to terror as she tilts her head to look over her shoulder and realizes the man behind her is not me. His hand comes between her shoulder blades as he pulls at the ties on his wrap and tries to place himself between Beh’s legs.
I know exactly his intent.
He wants to put his baby inside my Beh.
With a roar, I rush toward the lake.
The other man turns to me, his eyes wide with shock. He hadn’t seen me when he approached her since I was nearly hidden at the other edge of the pine forest. Now he turns toward me with Beh still in his grasp. She cries out, her arms and legs flailing against him as he tries to maintain his grasp around her body.
I run, my arms spread out wide and my throat becoming raw with my screams. He stands to full height and flings Beh to the side as he prepares for my onslaught. I do not care that he is larger. He is trying to take Beh from me, and I will not let that happen.
I can’t.
I can’t be without her.
We collide, and our bodies fall to the ground, half in and half out of the water. With a quick roll, he is on top of me. I feel the sting of his fist against my face as I struggle to right myself. He hits me twice more before I manage to punch back, sending him to the side. I follow him, trying to gain ground as I swing my arms wildly with the hopes of hurting him. We roll over each other, first with him on top, but I shove against him with all of my strength. As I pull back to hit his face, he kicks at my stomach and throws me off of him altogether.
I land on my backside near the water line but push myself to my feet quickly. He comes at me, ducking his head at the last moment and ramming into my stomach, knocking the air from my lungs. Falling to the rocks, I gasp and hit his back a few times but to no avail. I twist and turn as we grapple and manage to get my knee against his chest to shove him from me.
I can hear Beh yelling, but I can’t look at her right now. My back is aching from where he knocked me to the ground, and I can still just barely draw breath. As the other man regains his footing, I pick up rocks and start hurling them toward him in hope of hitting him in the head, but my aim is off, and he comes at me again.
We circle each other, and I know that I can’t beat him with just strength. He is far larger than I, and his strength much greater. My chest hurts, and I can feel bile burning the back of my throat at the thought, but in my mind I know I can’t win. If I don’t win, he is going to take Beh and put his baby in her instead of mine. He may even take her away from me completely.
I scream at the very thought and try to jump up and gain some advantage in height, but he is prepared for me and throws me easily to the ground. He jumps on top of me, and again I feel his fists. One strikes my temple, and for a moment everything goes dark.
When my senses return, he is no longer on me, and Beh is screaming my name-sound. I shake my head and push myself up on my elbow as I try to focus on the two of them not far from me. He has a firm grip on her arm and is pulling her to him as he backs away down the beach.
Crying out again, I jump up and rush over to them. The man is lifting my mate up off the ground, and she is screaming and kicking out with her legs. He looks up at my approach, growls, and throws Beh down to the rocks below him.
Just before I reach him, I see a short piece of driftwood on the ground in front of me, and I crouch to grab it with my hand before I leap at him again. He swings his arm and connects with my shoulder, but I grip the driftwood tightly and swing it at his head.
He screams in pain and wraps his arms around his head. I hit him again, this time across his back. He waves an arm at me, but I duck out of the way, and his swing is ineffective. The next time I swing, I connect with his jaw, and he flies backwards against the rocks.
Rolling unsteadily to his hands and knees, he scampers on the ground for a moment before he gains his footing and runs for the trees. With a scream of victory, I run for Beh, who is lying motionless near the water. Dropping to my knees beside her, I lift her head from the ground and push her hair out of her face.
“Beh!”
Her eyes are closed, and she doesn’t stir when I call out her name-sound. There are visible bruises forming on her cheek and arms, but I don’t think those would cause her to sleep. I wrap my other arm around her shoulders to lift her further from the rocks.
There’s blood all over the rocks where her head landed. Beh’s hair is red and matted, and her blood is all over my hands and her face. I pull her into my lap and hold her tightly, trying to push the blood away from her skin, but it keeps coming out of a gash near her temple. She must have hit her head on the rocks when he threw her to the ground.
I keep trying to push the blood away with my fingers, but it just doesn’t stop. It drips and pools on the ground as I cry out her name-sound, but she doesn’t open her eyes. My chest feels like it’s trying to crush itself, and my throat is tight and sore as I cry out for her but receive no answer. My hands shake as I hold her head against my shoulder and rock back and forth. I feel warm tears leaking from my eyes.
I don’t bother to push them away.
My forehead hurts when I squeeze my eyes shut and tuck my face against her tangled hair.
“Beh?” I shake her shoulders a little, but she does not move. I shudder as tears stain my cheeks again, and I turn my face to the sky and scream.
I don’t know how long I sit on the rocks, holding my mate against my chest—I only know that as the wind blows colder, it finally gets my attention, and I look up to see the sky turning red with the sunset.
Beh has not moved.
I gasp and cough, trying to clear my throat so I can breathe properly and then decide I just don’t care. My stomach roils, and I have to turn my head over my shoulder as I retch. I swallow hard through bile and mucus in my throat and cough again.
“Beh?” I whisper. I run my thumb over her cheek, and her skin is cold. I’m gripped by another sob as I lay my ear against her chest, barely able to keep my grip on her as I listen closely…
…and hear the shallow but steady beat of her heart.
I need to get her back to the cave to warm her.
Stumbling to my feet, I lift her in my arms. Part of me wants to just run as fast as I can to get her to safety, but her furs are still lying on the ground near the edge of the lake, and I don’t want to risk falling and dropping her. I refuse to put her down though, and I hold her with one arm as I bend at the knees to reach her furs and place them over her body. I gather everything I can in this way and tuck her close against my body as I begin to walk.
It’s good I know the paths as well as I do because I can’t focus on where my feet are going, only on the woman in my arms and the blood on her face. Another cry rips through my chest as I keep up my slow but steady pace, trying to make sure I don’t jostle her too much.
The sun sets behind my back just as I reach the steppes on the other side of the pine forest. I can see the cliff that holds our cave, but it still takes some time to get there. Making my way up the slight incline and then through the tight crack while carrying Beh isn’t easy, but I hold her tighter and manage to get inside.
It’s dark, and the fire is nothing but embers.
As carefully as I can, I lay Beh in our furs at the back of the cave. I place the side of my face against her chest once more. She still hasn’t moved at all, but I can hear her heart beating. Taking a deep breath, I stumble to the fire and quickly rekindle the flames, add logs, and rush back to Beh’s side.
She is still, and her skin remains chilled.
I rub my hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm her and then grab all of the spare furs from around the cave to pile them in the depression where we sleep. I lie beside her, wrap her in the furs, and push her hair from her forehead again.
The gash no longer seeps blood, but it is nasty looking even in the firelight.
“Beh?”
Nothing.
I feel tears in my eyes again, and I sniff loudly. It’s hard to breathe through my nose. I touch Beh’s cheek and then the edge of her lip. I press my mouth to hers, but I get no response.
I can feel her breath coming from between her parted lips.
I wrap my arm around her waist, and I bring her against me. I lay my head on the furs beside hers and watch her face, waiting for her to open her eyes or mouth and make a sound. How many times have I been annoyed with her strange noises, wishing her to be silent like she is now?
My chest clenches again.
Finally, I realize I would give anything to hear my mate’s sounds again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I sleep very little, waking often to see if Beh’s eyes have opened. I wonder if she just needs to rest and will wake up when the sun rises in the morning, just like she does every morning, but she doesn’t. I try shaking her and yelling, but it doesn’t help. I hold her head up and attempt to get some water down her throat, but it mostly spills out around her mouth. I think she swallowed a little, but it is hard to tell.
I can’t make her eat though.
Dipping a scrap of cloth from Beh’s old leggings into water I warmed by the fire, I slowly wash the blood off of Beh’s face. Beh doesn’t like being dirty at all, and I hope cleaning her off will help wake her up. I try to get the blood out of her hair as well, but that’s not very easy because her hair is so tangled. I try a little water first, rubbing the strands between my fingers to loosen the dried mess, but it doesn’t work well. I pull her up against my chest and try to use the wood carving to get the snarls out, but holding her limp body and using the wood carving at the same time isn’t easy. It takes a long time to make it smooth.