“Well, here we are,” the big man named Bard said as they stopped in front of a sliding metal panel that must be a door.
Of course, Makenna didn’t understand his words, but she found his deep, rumbling voice immensely comforting. During her ripening, a Florian female’s senses were heightened and her body sensed instinctively which male would be good for her…and which would not. How often had her mother told her to listen to her body?
“Never fear, your body will let you know, child, which man is the one for you,” she’d told Makenna when she had asked who she would someday join with. “The minute you find him, you’ll feel like you’ve come home. And when you get that feeling, listen to it. And more importantly—act on it. Don’t ever agree to join with a man who doesn’t give you that feeling of safety—of home. Only when you find him can your ripening take its full course and bring you pleasure instead of pain and regret.”
During the last visit Biter had made to the Pleasure House, as her ripening had just been coming on, Makenna had felt violently ill around the big Trollox. Not just because he was disgusting and exuded an odor of sweaty, unwashed flesh, but because her body was warning her against him in every way possible.
No! Stay away from him! a little, interior voice seemed to be shouting, anytime the huge Trollox came near her. He’s bad—he’ll hurt you, Makenna—stay away!
In contrast, the moment she had heard the deep, rumbling voice of the man named Bard, she had felt immediately drawn to him. And then, when he had put his arms around her and she had breathed in his warm, masculine scent, the interior voice had whispered again. Home, it said. Safety. Security. Protection. Stay here and you’ll be all right. He is the one—stay with him.
Makenna had learned to listen to that interior voice. And so, when the people at the place that looked like a Healing Hall had tried to dislodge her, she had gripped Bard even tighter. She wasn’t letting go of her only source of safety and security—the man her body was telling her she needed to be with! She wasn’t going to let anyone separate her from Bard. She—
At that moment the metal panel door slid open and a loud, frightening barking filled the air. Makenna jerked in fear as a huge, blue hairy shape came bounding towards them.
Oh, Goddess—what now?
6
“Down, boy—down, Tiny!” Bard ordered as he felt the girl begin to tremble against him again. “Get down now—you know better than that!”
He spoke sternly, knowing that his pet would understand. Ya’greers were huge, wolf-like creatures with shaggy coats of dark blue fur that lived in the jungles of his home world, Rageron. They were usually pack animals, but it was possible to take one as a puppy and bond it to a humanoid—if it was the right humanoid.
The way to bond with a Ya’greer was to look deep into their glowing, yellow-green eyes. If you were the right one for them, they’d be with you for life, literally—they didn’t die until their person did.
Bard had gotten Tiny a few months after his wife, Rilla had passed and he sometimes thought that the Ya’greer had saved his life. Tiny had been an apt name for him then—the little creature had been the runt of the litter, so small he could fit into one of Bard’s big palms. And to make matters worse for the little pup, he had been rejected by his mother.
“If you don’t take him, he’ll be dead inside a day or two,” the Ya’greer breeder had said. The breeder had also happened to be Rilla’s brother, which made him the kin of Bard’s mate. Bard thought the other male had seen the hopelessness in his eyes and had decided the best way to help him heal was by giving him a nearly impossible task—the task of making sure the runt of the litter lived.
For weeks he’d had to feed Tiny around the clock, waking up at all hours to quiet the pup’s pitiful crying with a bottle of warmed synthi-milk. And for a wonder, it had worked. In time, Tiny had grown to the massive size he was now—which was almost as big as the Earth animal called a horse.
Of course, having a bond with an animal wasn’t nearly the same as having a soul-bond with a mate, but caring for Tiny had helped Bard’s grief. It had given him something smaller and weaker than himself to take care of and to love at the darkest time of his life.
But now he had to be certain that his faithful pet knew his place—he couldn’t have Tiny scaring the little female in his arms.
“Tiny,” he said sternly, when the Ya’greer stopped barking and looked up at him with glowing, intelligent eyes. “This is Makenna and she’s going to be staying with us for some time. While she’s with us, she’s pack. Do you understand? Pack.”