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handful of days, a long turn of the moon. I think of tomorrow, and all the things that must be done. There are traps to set, pits to dig, caches to check in on, and hunter caves to re-supply. I am weary to the bone just thinking about all of it. I would rather stay with No-rah in the cave and kiss every inch of her soft human body. But lying in the furs with my mate does not feed her in the brutal season, so I must go out. I scrub a hand over my face and pull a fresh tunic over my chest. I must stay awake. I need to touch my mate, to take her body under mine. To taste her. I groan at the thought. How long has it been since I buried my face between her legs and tasted her cunt? Far too long.
    No-rah does not return right away, and I take a few bites of dried kah and then lie down in our nest of furs, waiting for my mate. My eyes start to drift closed, the exhaustion I struggle with creeping up on me.
    A hand touches my shoulder, rousing me. I jerk upright, nearly knocking No-rah in the head with my horns.
    She giggles and moves back. “Sorry. I was gone a bit longer than I thought.”
    “I fell asleep,” I murmur, trying to hold back a yawn. I reach for her, pulling her into my arms. “Come, we will mate now—”
    No-rah laughs sweetly again, and tucks her body against mine, but pulls the blankets up. “We can sleep first. You’re tired.”
    “I am tired but I also wish to mate,” I say, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her jaw is so small and delicate, I cannot help but run my fangs along it.
    She shivers and then gives my shoulder a tap. “Fine, if you want to stay awake, we need to talk.”
    “I am not a good talker,” I tell her. I would rather keep distracting her.
    “Oh stop that. You are plenty smart.”
    “I am. Look at how much we are talking now,” I tell her between nips at her throat. I roll our twined bodies until she is under me, in the furs. “Look at how much our mouths are moving.”
    “Yours, maybe,” she teases, but her laughter turns to a small sigh of pleasure when my tongue grazes her throat. Her hands go to my horns and she holds me against her. “You’re distracting me, aren’t you?”
    “I am tasting you,” I correct. “Not distracting.”
    “But I really want to talk.”
    “You may talk,” I tell her. I grab the hem of her tunic and tug it upward. “As long as my mouth is free to taste you.”
    My sweet No-rah makes another soft pleasure-sound, her hips rising on the furs. “I just want to know what’s wrong. Why you never come home anymore.”
    I sit up, distracted away from my enticing mate. “You think I do not want to be here?”
    The look in her eyes is troubled. “I don’t know. I tell myself that we’re fine, you and I, but then you’re up before dawn and you don’t come home again until I’m asleep.”
    “I am hunting—“
    “I know you are.” Her hand moves to my arm and she strokes it, soothing me. “I know you’re working super hard, baby. But that’s not my concern. My concern is that everyone else’s mates take a day off every now and then to relax. You never do. Ever since the girls have been born, you’re out the door.” Her mouth purses and there’s the barest quiver to her lower lip. “Sometimes I think it’s me.”
    “What? Never.” I fall back over her, pressing quick, hot kisses to her face and throat. This is a human custom I love, this kissing. I can never get enough of putting my mouth on my mate. “If it were my choice, I would lie in bed all day with you. But I cannot. You must be fed. The twins must be fed.” Even now, the thought of the kits hungry and scared in the deep, cold days of the brutal season sends fear through my body.
    She gives a small protesting shake of her head. “But we are being fed—“
    “What if it is not enough?” The worry I have been sitting on for so long claws out of me. “What if we get halfway through the brutal season and the food runs out? We ran low on food this last season.” I try not to