Mated to the Warrior Beast

208 Feed Me

~ JAYAH ~

Jayah stepped away from the cave where Sasha and Zev were settled, heaving a sigh.

Zan had both slept and fed again—which was good. But though he’d slept more deeply, his rest was still broken, and though he’d eaten, it wasn’t enough.

When Jayah examined the small boy his wail of protest was still weak, his flailing still jerky and lacking strength. And his stomach still distended.

He braced against pain when it was touched. His skin and eyes still dull.

But he was alive. Alive and stronger than he’d been the day before, Sasha was certain of it.

“Thank you, thank you,” the woman whispered endlessly as Jayah did her best to ensure that there were no wounds to the boy. She hated to even think it, but was it possible his father had hurt him—even accidentally—in a rage?

Babies were hard, especially sick ones. The constant crying and broken—or non-existent—sleep. But when she’d tip-toed towards the question, she’d been greeted by the flashing indignation of a lioness in human skin.

“My mate loves him!” Sasha snarled. “No matter how stressed he is, no matter how far he would go to fight… he’d never hurt our son!”

.....

Jayah raised her hands to soothe the woman’s anger, praying she was right.

Sasha didn’t calm immediately, cursing under her breath and turning away to glare at the cave wall, but when she calmed, she did broach it again with Jayah.

“I know how it all looks. I do. But you saw him with Elreth, right? Were you there? He could have killed her—he was at his worst then—and he didn’t. I know why you’re asking and… and it’s right that you ask I suppose. But no, Jayah. Don’t… don’t even think it. He hasn’t been hurt. If there’s something happening, he’s sick. Something has harmed him. But it wasn’t Zev. Or anyone else here. He’s… treasured.”

Jayah nodded, her heart soothed by the woman’s conviction. She understood it too—offspring were similarly cherished by the Anima.

“Then we can only watch and wait and continue to feed and sleep him as he needs. His reaction to the milk was severe. But with time and help… I pray we’ll get him back to full health.”

Sasha’s eyes shone. “Thank you. Thank you, Jayah. Thank you for helping me and for coming here and… I just feel so much safer with you here. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Sasha,” she said with a smile. “But don’t forget, I’m here at Elreth’s instruction. All of us are—and the extra resources were her idea. She wanted you all to know her remorse and be certain she sought to help, not harm. An olive branch extended. That was how she put it.”

Sasha nodded, but looked away, obviously troubled.

“What is it?” Jayah asked her softly.

But Sasha only shook her head. “Nothing. I mean, not nothing. But nothing we can do anything about, I don’t think. There’s just… too many things, all at once. There has been for too long.”

The woman looked so worn down, so defeated, Jayah found herself moved.

She understood.

Reaching for Sasha’s arm, she didn’t speak, but rubbed up and down, a gentle touch. An extension of hope.

Sasha met her gaze, her eyes shining with tears. “Thank you for being a friend, Jayah,” she murmured.

Jayah pulled her into a brief hug, then let the woman rest by leaving the emotional subjects behind.

Sasha should rest before lunch if she could. Zan definitely needed to sleep before trying feeding again—something they should do before they began to move towards the meeting place. And Sasha must eat—as heartily as she could, as much fruit and meat as possible.

“I’ll check in with you again while we’re traveling, or if you have any issues with the next feed, send someone to find me.”

Sasha nodded, cradling her son and looking down at him, her eyes shining with love and worry. “I will,” she said absently, tracing his soft forehead with a finger. “Thank you.”

*****

Jayah was at the tent in which the Alphas met and issued orders within minutes, her own heart fragile and pulling for her mate.

But before she could pull back the tent flap and enter to find him, Skhal appeared outside, taking her arm and turning her to tug her back towards the encampment and away from the gathering inside.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing—I mean, everything of course,” he growled, then stopped abruptly to turn and pull her against him, to kiss her deeply, slowly—but far too briefly—before pulling away and beginning to walk again, her hand in his. “There’s just no privacy here. And I have a meal for us back at the cave.”

Jayah’s heart did a little flip. She remembered the moment she’d pulled the fur over his shoulders and how he’d seemed so stunned. She understood the feeling—it washed over her every time he thought of something she might need, anticipated it before she’d had a chance to think of it herself.

When they reached the cave, he hurried to a little table at the side to show her—he’d prepared a meal ahead, anticipating that she’d be there and it might be their only chance to be alone.

“I have to return to that clusterfuck back there before it’s time to travel,” he said. “Zev’s stress is getting the others agitated. Lhars is doing a good job of keeping them calm, but…” he ran a hand through his hair, his weathered face turned down in a frown. “We walk a very fine line, Jayah. He isn’t talking like a male aiming for peace.”

Jayah’s stomach clenched with fear. But Skhal wasn’t looking at her, he was transferring fruit and dried meat to a plate, frowning over a grape, examining it as if it had offended him.

Jayah reached out and put a hand to his arm. “Skhal?”

“Yes?” He went still, looking at her.

“Skhal I’m hungry… but not for food,” she said, feeling the slight flush in her cheeks. She never thought anyone would be able to make her blush again—but being so open with her mate still warmed her with delight, and a touch of embarrassment.

Funny. She’d never felt nervous approaching a male before him. Not once she’d understood the way of things.

But Skhal… Skhal never looked at her as he would the furniture or a tree… his eyes never passed over her as if she were marked and logged and nothing to worry about. His gaze on her was always laser focused. Intent.

And heated. Like now.

There was a second in which they stared at each other—her pleading with him to hear her, him startled. Then the plate simply dropped to the cave floor, turning on its rim as the fruit and meat tumbled around their feet.

Then, as Jayah gave a breathless laugh, Skhal pulled her into his chest, cupping her jaw and leaning in as if he would kiss her—but pausing just before their lips touched, his eyes blazing.

“Jayah?” he rumbled, his chest vibrating under her hand.

“Yes?”

“Always tell me. When you’re hungry, always tell me,” he said, his voice honeyed gravel. “There is nothing I would rather do in this world than feed you.”

She laughed quietly, but not for long as he took her mouth.