Sean Michael Windbrothers Where The Water Flows

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

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Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Prologue

She was beautiful, bright hair shining in the sun, full

breasts and hips moving beneath the soft doeskin dress. Her
youngest son, no longer an infant, clung to her side, her
daughter walking before her. Naki was everything he'd ever
wanted in a mate—beautiful, experienced, kind, talented. Her
blankets were the tightest woven in three clans, her flatbread
light and fluffy and melting. Her voice sang the songs of the
women with a purity unheard of.

Jael sighed, shifting slightly on Sernes’ back, his cock

filling as he watched her move.

One day soon he would bring her a mi'it dressed in beads

and baubles and well packed. He would make a fine saddle, a
warm fur. He would offer to take the empty place of her lost
warrior and, knowing his hunting skills and his good nature—
because his father always said he was the most good-natured
of all the boys—she would say yes.

Sernes snorted and tossed her head, hooves stamping

impatiently in the grasses, catching Naki's attention. She
smiled and waved and looked at him for a moment—really
looked—before turning away. He headed out to the forests. If
he was going to win her, he needed pelts, needed to provide
for the tribe.

Soon he would be providing for his family. Naki's family.
The clouds were beginning to threaten in the West, a sign

of great change to come. Jael watched for a moment—great
changes, and soon, too.

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by Sean Michael

He smiled, nickering to Sernes as they headed out.
He was ready for some change.

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by Sean Michael

Chapter 1

It was a dry, dusty day. The road was dirty, the grass that

lined it was yellowed and brown in places, the air wasn't
clean. And worst of all, he was dirty. He could feel the grit,
rubbing between his collar and the skin of his neck, inside his
shoes, in his hair. It made him grumpy and tired and
unhappy.

It wouldn't do any good to stop and wash, either. There

would just be more dirt and he would have to stop again and
really, he wanted to find a place to camp before he stopped
and so far this road had proved to be unfriendly. Aside from
the dirt, he had a spider-bite, a bruise on his shin from an
unfortunate trip over a camouflaged stick, a scratch from the
thorns of a berry bush across his right hand and his water
pouch had fallen and been torn.

All Quan wanted out of this path now, was to survive it.

Civilization would be nice, too.

At least the current cover of trees offered shade from the

sun and cut the wind, which kept the dust to a minimum. Of
course it also brought with it all manner of creatures and he
was pretty sure he'd heard the snorfling chortle of a wild hog.
He hadn't stuck around to be sure, choosing instead to move
on quickly. Another noise came from the trees around him,
this time the sound more like a growl. Maybe a big cat or
something like a bear. Another noise came from the same
direction, this time more of a rumbling roar and Quan froze,
eyes riveted to where it had come from.

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by Sean Michael

When the bear broke through the cover of the trees and

continued to press forward, running straight at him, Quan
ran. As fast as he could.

The damn beast still managed to swipe him before he

could make it to a tree, cutting a rather painful gouge out of
his leg.

The wound was soon forgotten in the panic that followed

his scramble up the tree. The damnable bear was trying to
knock him off his perch, if that was what you could call his
precarious position, clinging to the trunk of the tree, some
twenty-five feet from the ground. The bear would back
away—the first time he'd thought it had given up—and then it
would run and ram its head right into the tree. It was also
rubbing its hindquarters against the tree, which was making
the trunk he was clinging to groan and tremble alarmingly.
Well, he was alarmed at any rate, the bear looked like he was
going to keep doing it until Quan dropped into his lap. If
bears had laps.

Well then, he seemed not to be panicking, as he was

considering the physical make-up of bears. Just then the
beast gave up on trying to shake him out of the tree. Which
would have been wonderful, except he seemed intent on
climbing up instead.

Quan began to scream.

* * * *

Jael heard the scream only a heartbeat before he heard

the infuriated roar of the bear. Sernes whinnied and stamped
and then they were off, moving through the forest at a

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by Sean Michael

breakneck speed, wind and sound and excitement
plummeting him forward.

His throwing knives were in his hand, rahat readied at his

side. The huge brown animal had someone treed—Jael didn't
have the time or inclination to be curious as to who yet, as he
wheeled Sernes around to aim the first volley of knives. The
first knife sliced through the thick fur, but was easily brushed
away. The second and third found their marks, burying deep
into the thick, ropy muscle of the bear's shoulder. The fourth
knife was slapped from the air by a huge paw, the beast
turning and roaring furiously. Sernes bucked, screaming
shrilly into the air, the smell and vicinity of the bear more
than her training could take. Jael managed to throw one more
knife as he leapt from her back and began swinging his rahat
on a strong, thin mara-silk rope, looking for a wounding blow
that would keep him out of range of those claws and teeth.
Time slowed, became thick and heavy like good honey on a
winter morning. It was always like this, on a good hunt,
during the battle—thick and slow and his heart beat so steady
and strong and he could see everything and...

There!
The bear shifted, one arm moving to strike and he let the

blades fly, crowing as they sank deep, piercing organ and
flesh and bone. With a tug, the blades came free, blood
pouring from the bear, weakening it in steady pulses. Jael
circled, keeping the dying animal's attention, watching for the
killing blow. He disliked when they suffered and prided
himself on a clean, quick kill. It was his fondest wish that his
prey appeared, surprised and still running, in the green fields

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by Sean Michael

of the Land of Summer, still believing themselves in their
native woods.

It took only two more blows before the bear fell to the

ground, its spirit slipping from its meat and pelt. Jael leaned
down and slit the throat before the heart stilled, repeating the
motion on the thick pad of flesh below his thumb. He watched
as both fluids fell and fed the earth, one dead and one living.
As it should be.

As he became aware of his surroundings once more, he

realised the screaming hadn't stopped. The man, for it
appeared to indeed be a man, who had been treed, was still
quite a ways up, crying and screeching and begging for the
moon to save him. Jael tilted his head. “You! Up there! It's
dead. You can stop now. You hurt?”

Whoever the man was, he wasn't from here—not with that

accent and those clothes. Maybe from the big water or
perhaps the tribes by the white mountains. “Dead? Hurt? Yes!
Yes, I'm hurt. For the love of the moon, get me down!”

“Where are you hurt?” Jael slipped the rahat into its

customary place, climbing easily up the takava. He loved
these trees, they smelled like the candies from the Feast
days—minty and spicy and warm.

“Where?” The man was still half-shrieking, half-yelling,

panic clear in his voice. “What does it matter where? I am
bleeding to death and we are discussing wound placement.”

“In my experience, people lose their voices long before

they lose their last drop of blood. You must be safe.”

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by Sean Michael

“I'm hanging perilously from a tree. I am most assuredly

not safe!” The panic in the man's voice had faded somewhat,
replaced by indignation.

“Perilously?” Jael frowned and shrugged, holding one hand

up towards the man. He didn't look like he was bleeding to
death, but he definitely looked unhappy. “Well, come on then.
If you don't like being up here, let's go down.”

Blue eyes that were almost green, unlike any he'd ever

seen before, stared down at him: first at his hand and then
the ground and then into his face. “On second thought,
maybe I'll just stay where I am.”

“Stay? But you said...” Jael blinked and frowned. Maybe

the odd man really was wounded. He reached out again, more
insistent. “Come now. Falling out of the tree would hurt.”

“Yes, I'm sure it would.” The man wrapped his arms more

firmly around the trunk. “That's why I'll stay right where I
am. As long as I keep talking I won't bleed to death, right?
That is what you said.”

“I did not. I said you couldn't talk if...” He sighed and

whistled for Sernes, sliding back down the trunk with a
mental shrug. He'd give the man a moment; perhaps he was
frightening. He didn't think he was particularly threatening,
but he had just killed a bear alone. Oh, Naki would have to be
impressed by this. Have to. He pulled his blade as his feet hit
the ground, heading for his kill. “You want some of the meat?
You did find it, after all.”

“Wait! Where are you going? You can't just leave me

here!”

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by Sean Michael

Oh, now this was ridiculous. Jael stepped away from the

tree, hands on his hips. “You just said you were staying up
there. I heard you.”

“Not by myself I'm not! Besides, you said if I was talking I

couldn't bleed to death and then you said that wasn't true at
all.” The man glared down at him for a moment and then
whimpered and clung more tightly to the tree.

A drop of something fell down and hit the ground next to

Jael. Bending, he touched his finger to the spot; it was red.

“If I come up and help you, will you come down? I've got

water and blankets and some binding cloths.” Jael began the
climb again. “I won't hurt you.”

“Oh, water would be lovely. I feel so dirty. I've been dirty

all day. I was going to stop. I should have stopped, then the
bear would have decided to eat someone else. I don't think
I'd even be very tasty to a bear. I don't know why he was
picking on me. Oh. You're very large, aren't you? Rather like
that bear.”

“Don't like being dirty?” He climbed quickly, worried at the

confused, sing-songy tone. “There's a river about a half
candlemark's ride away. We'll get you down and patched up
and go, if you'd like. I could use a bit of a wash and so could
the bear, I think.”

The man seemed to cling even tighter to the tree. “I

thought the bear was dead!”

“He is, but he'll be a better rug after a dunk.” Jael laughed,

hoping to put the man at ease. “And he'll taste better too,
wouldn't you think?”

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by Sean Michael

“I think I'm going to be sick,” the man informed him, voice

tight, almost prim.

“Wait ‘til I'm up or you're down.” Jael reached the man and

scooped him close, balancing the vaguely green-faced man
against his chest. “There now. Just close your eyes and we'll
be down and I'll find you a bit of water.”

Long, thin fingers grabbed at his tunic, wrapping

themselves in it in a death grip. “I'll find the water. That's
what I do. I just need a minute and I'll find your water for
you.”

“You're a dowser? The chieftain will be glad to hear that.

We've been worried about the water since the seer starting
warning last winter. Hard to keep a tribe without water.” Jael
chattered softly, watching the ill-look fade slightly. Then he
quickly and carefully carried the man down the tree.

“Pshaw. Dowsers are charlatans. You dig deep enough you

can find water anywhere. I bring it to you. Oh. I usually don't
tell people that. Not right away. Sometimes not even at all.
But you did just save my life from that horrible bear who was
going to eat me all up. Thank you.”

“They are?” Jael settled the man on the grass, looking him

over carefully. There was a nasty gash on one leg, but
otherwise the man seemed well. He whistled for his horse
again, pulling down one of the saddlebags and pulling out a
water skin. “What's your name? I'm Jael.”

“I'm Quan. It's nice to meet you, Jael. Thank you for

rescuing me.” The man looked down at his own leg and grew
pale. “Oh my, that seems like an awful lot of blood...”

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by Sean Michael

“Oh, it's not so bad. Looks nastier than it is. What kind of

name is Quan? I've never heard it before.” He winced as his
cut thumb began to sting and raised it to his mouth, sucking
it idly. He poured water over Quan's wound before binding it
up.

“My people are—oh! Ooooooohhhhh.” Quan stopped

speaking, a small smile playing about his face as Jael cleaned
the wound.

“The ache should ease soon. It wasn't too deep at all.” Jael

tied the last knot and stood. “If you'll rest a bit, I'll set that
old bear onto some sticks and we'll head down to the river.”

Either the pain was easing or the man was about to lose

consciousness, but he looked happier.

“The ache has all but disappeared. Thank you for sharing

your water with me.” Quan reached out and touched his
hand, eyes going wide. “T-the river sounds good.”

“You're welcome.” Jael smiled and stood, heading over to

chop two heavy limbs from the tree. “So, are you headed
somewhere special or just heading anywhere?”

His hand was tingling, sharp and bright. It was odd; bear's

blood never did that before.

“Nowhere in particular. I... I suppose I was looking for

someone.”

“You're a far way out for searching.” He placed the

branches near the bear, grunting as he rolled them beneath
the heavy carcass. “My village is close by—a half day's ride or
so. If you want, I'm sure the Elders would enjoy your stories,
your knowledge. Let a healer look at your leg.”

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by Sean Michael

“I would be most grateful.” Quan smiled at him, a rather

friendly smile. “Perhaps my search is over.”

“Oh?” Jael took his shirt off, tearing off strips to fasten the

bear more sturdily. The sun was hot against his back; it felt
good and warm. “Aklan is our one of our elders. So is Liena,
she does most of the seeing for the Clan. I'm sure they would
like to meet you.”

“And I would like to meet them. But tell me more about

yourself.”

“Me?” Jael shrugged, attaching the stakes to Sernes’

saddle. “My father is Di'lat. I am his youngest son.” He
wandered over to where Quan was stretched out on the
ground. “If I help you, can you mount? It will ease the way to
the river.”

“Yes, but I must warn you that I don't ride very well.”

Quan's nose wrinkled. “Horses are such dirty, smelly beasts.”

“Serne isn't smelly. She's just been brushed out this

morning.” He knelt down, draping Quan's thin arm over his
bare shoulder. “Okay, I'll help you up. Try and keep your
weight off that leg or it'll sting.”

Quan's hand grabbed at his shoulder, holding tightly as

they stood together. “Brushed or not, she's all... horsey.”

“Yes. She's a mi'it. It is the nature of the beast.” Jael

arched an eyebrow and grinned, waiting patiently as the man
balanced. “How are you doing? Ready to try a step?”

The stranger's skin was fine and smooth, different than

his, but interesting and just smelled of clear water.

Quan looked down at his leg dubiously. “Perhaps you

should just carry me over?” With his free hand, Quan

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by Sean Michael

squeezed the muscles of his arms and of his chest. “You
certainly seem strong enough.”

“I suppose it would be easier.” Jael faced him and lifted

him carefully, carrying him over to Serne, who was snorting
in protest. “Now you hush, girl. He's hurt. Let's get him to the
river, shall we? Then we'll take him home to Aklan.”

“I guess she doesn't think I smell very good either.”

Quan's laugh was slightly breathless and he seemed suddenly
quite warm. “Will you ride with me? Make sure I don't fall
off?”

“She's just nervous. She's only used to me, that's all.

We've not ridden together for too many seasons and our
iyossi was slow to form.” Jael frowned, looking from the man
in his arms to the saddle. “Well, let's get you seated and see
how you feel. One way or the other, I won't let you fall.”

“Iyossi?” Quan asked, looking curious in spite of himself.

Jael had to keep from laughing at the way he sat so gingerly
in the saddle. At this rate the man was going to tumble off
the moment Serne started to move.

“Relax! She won't hurt you, I swear it.” With a sigh and a

chuckle—his brothers were going to rib him about this for
days—he swung up onto Serne, settling behind Quan,
supporting the man easily. “And yes, iyossi. The bond
between man and mi'it. It is the second most important bond
a man can achieve.”

He clucked softly to Serne, nudging her forward. “You

really aren't from around here, are you?”

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by Sean Michael

“No, I can safely say that I have never been here before.”

The man settled back, almost melting against him. “What's
the first most?”

“The bond of ki'ita. The bond given only by the One who is

All. It is rare and only between certain ba'chi and hi'icha.”
Jael shook his head. “I have seen those who are ki'ita. They
glow together.”

“I think it would be wonderful to glow with another, don't

you? What are ba'chi and hi'icha?”

“Ba'chi are our holy men. They use great magics and have

great gifts. They are very rare, only a very few per clan.” Jael
scooted back a bit, only to have the man follow. “The hi'icha
are their guardians—strong, brave warriors who protect the
tribe and their ki'ita. There are more hi'icha than ba'chi, but
the tribe needs protection even if there is no ba'chi to care
for.”

He bit back his sigh. He had always dreamt of being

chosen as hi'icha, of receiving the scars and feeling the pride
of his father and his grandfather. It was not to be. The tribe
had enough older, wiser, stronger men to guard her. A'chaffa!
He had enough older brothers to guard two tribes.

“I have heard of such pairs myself. Seen them in fact.

They do indeed glow.” Quan seemed to melt even closer to
him.

“Yes. As a boy, we would all pretend that we were called to

be hi'icha, but it is a rare thing and is an honour to hunt for
the tribe.”

Quan chuckled lightly. “And did no one pretend they were

ba'chi?”

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by Sean Michael

“No. They say ba'chi know from birth that they are not

called to hunt. It would be wrong to pretend to be something
you could never be.” Jael sniffed, stretching up. “Ah, the river
is close.”

“Yes, and pure as well. It will be nearly as good as a healer

to bathe in such clean water.”

“Have you been to the river then?”
“No, I haven't.”
Jael tilted his head. “How'd you know it was pure, then?”
“I... I can feel it.” The words were offered, almost shyly.
“You're a ba'chi, then? Honestly?” Jael grinned, the day

was getting better and better. Interesting company, a bear
pelt and a ba'chi to introduce to Aklan.

“I am. Searching for my hi'icha and playing with bears.”
Jael laughed, reaching down to pat Serne's hip as she

weaved through the trees. “You should try playing with
smaller bears next time. Or climb bigger trees.”

Quan was leaning heavily against him. This close, the man

felt hot and thin.

“Do you feel feverish, Quan?” He worried that perhaps the

man was getting sick. Perhaps they should hurry at the river,
get to the tents as soon as possible.

“Giddy, but not feverish. It isn't often a man finds out the

journey of lifetime has finally brought an end to his
searching.”

“Oh? Do you think you're going to find what you're

searching for at the river?”

Quan chuckled lightly. “Yes, I do believe that what I am

searching for will be at the river. And in your home.”

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Jael frowned, not sure he understood. He considering

pushing further, but then they came upon the river, wide and
clear and sparkling in the afternoon sun and the questions
seemed unimportant, petty. The ba'chi were odd at best, their
gifts both a blessing and a curse, foreign ones could only be
more so.

“The Chokfin River.” He grinned happily, sliding off Serne's

back. “Oh, I bet the fish are biting.”

“You can catch us a meal,” the man suggested, waiting

upon the mi'it.

“Hmmm? Oh, yes. After I take care of the bear.” Jael

reached up towards Quan. “You need help down?”

“Yes.” The man pushed gingerly away from the mi'it,

falling into his arms and sliding against him.

“Careful, you don't want to open the wound again.” He

eased Quan to his feet, watching the thin face. Hot—the man
seemed too warm, almost feverish with bright eyes.

Quan's hands landed on his shoulders and slid down along

his chest. “Thank you. Perhaps you could carry me to the
water and help me undress. Once I'm immersed I'm sure I'll
be much better.”

Jael nodded and took a half-step backward. His stomach

was clenching, churning uncomfortably and he wondered if
the berries he'd eaten for breakfast had been green. He
wrapped his arms around Quan's waist and lifted the thin
man, heading towards the sloping bank. The warm hands slid
back up and around his shoulders, Quan holding on tightly.
The man gasped slightly as Jael put him down, perhaps
slightly more abruptly than he'd meant to.

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“Oh, sorry. You startled me.” Jael felt his cheeks heat.

“What help do you need, Quan?”

“I can't seem to stand on the leg without pain, so if you

could either undress me, or hold me steady, I would be most
grateful.”

“Undress you?” Jael looked at Quan's complicated clothing.

“How?”

Quan laughed. “You take off my clothes. Surely you've

undressed someone before?”

“Uh... no. I don't think so. And I've never undressed

anyone so... dressed.”

“It will be good practice for you then, in case you ever

want to undress someone so dressed in the future.” Quan's
hands were still holding onto his shoulders, helping the man
to stay upright, he presumed. “The outer robe comes off
first—it just slides off over my head.”

This was shaping up to be the strangest day he'd ever

experienced. He reached for the gauzy material, wincing at
his fingers caught upon it. “Will it tear?”

“It is soft but strong. Like skin.” Quan frowned down at his

hands. “You should wash your hands first though.”

“Oh, yes. The blood is mostly dry, though.” He eased Quan

onto the grass. “Rest here a few moments and let me care for
Serne and wash up.”

He hurried over and unhooked the makeshift travois,

allowing Serne to graze and drink. The bear didn't look too
worse for wear. As soon as he got the ba'chi settled, he'd
start removing the pelt. Naki would love it.

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“You should disrobe and wash properly, change into a

clean outfit that is not covered in blood.”

Jael laughed. “I'll just get all bloody again in a moment. I'll

wash after and save my leathers.”

Quan was not laughing, he was in fact looking at the bear

with some distaste. “It's a messy business, isn't it?”

“Hunting often is.” Jael wandered back down the bank,

wetting his hands thoroughly, rubbing the soft sand between
them to remove the grime and rinsing them. “In fact, living
seems to be fairly messy, all that sweating and bleeding and
breathing nonsense.”

“Quite.” A glance at the man revealed Quan to be sitting

primly where he had been left, hands folded in his lap. Only
the gash in his leg, the trousers torn and blood-soaked, gave
away his condition. “I find that a good soap and the proper
care keep most of the mess to a minimum.”

He laughed heartily. Where under the Winds was the fun in

that? “My brother, Pa'chi has a wife that makes soap. It's
very good at cleaning just about everything. You want to
bathe now, or wait until I'm finished with the bear?”

“I will bathe now and until you are finished with the bear. I

have my own soap with me. What does your Pa'chi's wife's
soap smell like?”

“Soap, I suppose.” Jael shrugged. “I mean, soap is soap is

soap—slimy and grey and wet and... soapy.” He walked over
to Quan and held out his hand. “It'll take me a while with the
bear. You don't mind being wet for a while?”

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“I do wet very well. Wet is clean and neat and necessary.”

Quan took his hand, fingers sliding across his palm. “And
soap is not slimy and grey and wet. Not if it is properly done.”

Jael arched an eyebrow. “Really? Do you come from far

away?” He helped Quan upright, steadying him and removing
the outer garment carefully. The man was dressed from neck
to boots in a tight fitting knitted garment. He wore a small
bag over his shoulder and Quan removed that before
steadying himself against Jael's shoulders. The hands were
still warm against Jael's skin. “What next? I've never seen
anything like that... this... thing before.”

“The top pulls over my head, the trousers go down in the

opposite direction. I can assure you it isn't so complicated.”

Jael looked down at his open vest and riding breeches,

laces leaving his thighs exposed to the kiss of the wind. “No. I
suppose not.”

“It keeps me clean.” The way Quan said it, this was

obviously a very good thing.

“Oh.” Jael was beginning to think that spending too much

time here was not in his best interest. Aklan would know how
to keep Quan entertained, how to keep Quan clean and
dressed. Quan was looking at him expectantly. He reached for
the shirt and eased it over Quan's head, wincing as the long
braid came loose from its knot. “Oh, sorry. Want me to
steady you so you can get your pants?”

Quan shifted slightly and paled. “I think perhaps you'd

better get them.”

Jael bit back his sigh. His brothers were never going to

hear of this—figuring out the clothing of a foreign ba'chi. At

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least if it had been his eldest brother, Kaen would have
enjoyed the view... He knelt down, easing the leggings down,
careful not to aggravate the open wound.

Quan's skin was pale beneath his layers, the blood a harsh

contrast next to the unbroken skin. Jael winced. It seemed
wrong, the dark mar against the smooth skin. “Come. Some
washing will help the wound.”

Quan's hands slid around his neck again, the naked body

pressing close. Jael could feel Quan's heat, even through the
barrier of his leathers. “I am sure it will. I was lucky to have
such a strong hunter come to my rescue.”

Jael blinked. “I... I am glad to help.”
He hurried down into the river, lowering Quan into the

water and then backing away quickly. “Do you need anything
else? I'm going to get the pelt off that bear and carve the
meat. Naki will be pleased to have my share.”

Quan looked suddenly stricken. “You have a wife.”
Jael shook his head. “Not yet. I have not caught her eye

yet, but I will. She is still mourning her lost One, but I hope
that she will look upon me with favor soon.”

Quan smiled at him. “Or perhaps your fancy will turn to

another.” The man undid his braid and brushed out his hair. It
was long and seemed to absorb the sunlight into it. “There is
a bar of soap in my bag, would you bring it to me, please?”

“Of course.” He hurried away, glad to be away from the

sleek body and bright eyes. His stomach was unsettled,
perhaps Quan gave off magics... He opened the bag and
looked in. There didn't seem to be a jar of lye soap. “What
does it look like?”

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“It looks like a bar of soap.” Quan laughed as he continued

to look puzzled. “It is about the size of my palm and not quite
white.”

“Oh! This?” He pulled out what looked and felt like slightly

spongy wood.

“Yes.” Quan reached his hand out, smiling. “You see? Not

slimy or smelly or grey.”

“And you say it's soap? Does it make bubbles?” He handed

the soap over, watching with interest to see how the man
made the wood bar into soap. Quan dipped the bar into the
water and began to rub it between his palms. Soon his hands
were covered in a lather of tiny bubbles the same colour as
the soap itself.

“Oh!” He took a step closer, fascinated. He reached out,

touching the tiny bubbles with a single finger.

“It's quite wonderful. You can join me and we'll wash each

other's backs.”

“Oh, no. I... the bear. I have to... the pelt and the meat,

you know.” He back-pedalled quickly, hurrying back up the
bank.

Quan's voice followed him. “Does this mean you won't

wash my back for me?”

“What do you do when you're on your own? Surely you

don't wait to bathe until someone appears.” It was easier to
be calm and relaxed with his blade in hand, the bone sharp
and finely made. He quickly stripped off his clothes, leaving
only his loincloth. Skinning a bear was sweaty, hot work.

“I have a brush in my big pack that will do an adequate

job. But as you are here...”

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He slit the beast's belly, careful not the nick any organs

and spoil the meat. “If you're still needing washing by the
time I'm done and not wrinkled into something close to a
dried hanal berry, I'll be glad to help.” He looked up and over,
“You want a section of the heart for yourself? It strengthens
the blood, if taken raw.”

The look on Quan's face was answer enough.
“You're sure? You're very pale, you know. Losing the blood

today couldn't have been good for you.” Jael removed the
heart, slicing a piece for himself and chewing idly as he
worked, removing stomach and lung and ropy entrails.

“I prefer my meat cleaned, cooked. Aside from which I

don't believe I could eat after a sight such as that one.”

“Which sight is that?” He removed the head and paws,

setting them aside. His grandparents would want those for
headcheese and pendants and ceremonial masks.

“The bear, all apart like that. Don't get me wrong, I am

not squeamish. I can gut and clean my own food. The mess
however, dulls my appetite. I will not eat again until
morning.”

“So long? No wonder you're so thin.” He slowly and

carefully slit the pelt, working the skin away from the meat.
Sweat slid down his spine and he wriggled at the itch. “Don't
really know a neater way of going about this, honestly.”

“No, I haven't found one myself, aside from getting

someone else to do it and absenting myself from the area.”
Quan sighed heavily. “So much of life is messy and dirty.
Thank the moon water is clean!”

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“I don't mind the dirt, so long as there's a nice wash at the

end. Spent a week once covered in mud during a battle over
the marshlands. Not a pleasant thing.”

Quan shuddered and began to make more lather of his

soap, spreading the bubbles over his skin for what had to be
the third time.

“How long does the soap wood last you, using it so?” He

pulled off large hunks of meat, wrapping each in a small piece
of oiled, salted cloth, also salting the pelt and rolling it up.

“I always carry several with me. I trade for it whenever I

find a soap maker who knows how to make it right, make it
clean.” Quan slid into the water up to his neck, and then
dunked completely under.

Jael chuckled and shook his head, gathering up his clothes

and heading to the water. He rinsed out his vest and wiped
his leathers down and then hung both clothes and loincloth
over a warm stone. He looked around for Quan, heading into
the cool water for a swim. Quan surfaced, hair down and
unbraided, hanging down his back to just below his buttocks.
He nodded at the water wizard and then dove into the water,
enjoying the slick slide of the river against his skin, the shine
of river stones glinting along the bottom.

When he broke the surface, Quan was working on his hair,

soaping it up liberally. Then man looked pale though, and
unsteady on his feet.

“You feeling a bit waterlogged, yet? You're pale as new

snow.” He swam over, half-floating, half-sitting against the
slick rocks.

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“I probably should have let my hair be,” Quan admitted.

He swayed slightly, wincing as he caught himself with his
injured leg.

“How can I help? You need something to hold onto?”
“Please.” Quan's voice sounded strained now. “I thought...

the water made everything feel all right I almost forgot I'd
been hurt.”

“Water can do that. It almost lies about wounds.” He

waded over, wrapping one arm around the thin waist, using
his side to bear the weight on the injured side. “Does that
help?”

Quan leaned against him, almost nuzzling into him. The

man moaned softly. “Yes. Yes, it does help.”

“Good. Come now, let's get this stuff out of your hair and

we'll get you dried and settled.” He smiled encouragingly.
“Once I get you home, the healers will make your pain ease. I
swear it.”

“You're doing a good job of easing it yourself.” Quan

leaned back awkwardly, dunking his head back into the water.

“Taking the weight off that leg does seem to bring your

colour back. Steady now!” He steadied Quan with his other
arm, holding the man carefully so the soap could be worked
out of the long hair. It was a long time before Quan seemed
satisfied that his hair was soap free. An inordinately long
time, during which he leaned more and more heavily against
Jael. For a skinny man, he definitely leaned heavy.

“Well, then, to the bank with you and on a blanket to dry a

bit.” Jael was beginning—no, not beginning, continuing, with
that unending twitch in his stomach that said he'd eaten

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something off—to feel a bit unnerved. “I'll keep you from the
bear mess and you should be fine.”

“Thank you.” Quan looped his arms around Jael's

shoulders, obviously expecting to be carried, as if it were the
most natural thing in the world. Jael sighed and lifted Quan
easily, careful not to jostle the wounded leg. If all foreign
ba'chi were so complicated, no wonder they rarely came to
live with the Tribes. Quan's head rested against his shoulder
and a long sigh went through the man.

He felt sorry for the older man, so thin, so tired. Jael

carried him to the shore, spreading a soft well-loved fur
upwind and out of sight of the bear's remains. He settled the
man down and looked back around at the river. “You rest a
bit and let me dress, then we'll bind that leg up and head for
the clan. I'll only be a heartbeat.”

Quan's hand slid along his skin for a moment in a gentle

caress. “Thank you, Jael.”

“It is only proper, to help your fellow man.” Jael stood,

moving away from that warm hand and jogging down to the
river again, where he washed quickly, tying his leathers back
around himself.

When he returned to his fur, Quan lay curled in the middle

of it, eyes closed, breath rising and falling slowly. The dark
hair was spread out around him, like a blanket of night sky.
Jael smiled and shook his head, fetching another fur to drape
over the poor man. Quan must be truly tired, to fall asleep to
quickly and easily. He settled quietly beside the sleeping man,
cleaning and sharpening his blades.

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It was funny really, Jael thought as he watched the man

sleep. Quan looked almost happy, almost at home.

* * * *

Quan woke slowly, eyes blinking open to late afternoon

light streaming through trees. He felt good, better than he
had in a long time, despite the throb of the wound in his
thigh. He must have slept for six hours. He couldn't
remember the last time he had slept solidly for so long. He
became aware of the heat at his back, realised that he was
snuggled up tight against another. Jael. The young man
who'd rescued him. The man whose touch made him feel
strangely peaceful.

Could this be the mate he'd been searching most of his life

for?

It felt right to him, but Jael was oblivious, did that mean

Jael wasn't the one meant for him?

There was no manual to consult, no way of knowing for

sure, but he felt better at this moment, despite the wound,
than he could ever remember feeling. It was as if some
irritant inside him had finally quieted, letting him sleep in
peace. That was good enough for him. Jael had spoken of
pretending to be hi'icha when he was younger, when he
realised he was to be hi'icha to Quan, he would be so pleased.
Quan pushed back into the big body behind him, moving
more firmly into the warmth and comfort he found there.

“A'chaffa, Mul'en, quit hogging the furs or I'll go get Ata.”

Quan chuckled at the exasperated, still-very-much-asleep
tone, the well-practiced aggravation and threat shared
between brothers and friends. Jael would soon learn to share

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the blankets with just one. He smiled and let his eyes close
again, enjoying the quiet piece of lying with this man who
was meant for him.

It wasn't long before the giant beast Jael called a mi'it

wandered over and began nibbling at Jael's shoulder and
elbow, nudging the young man with her large, smelly head.
“Make it go away, Jael. It stinks.”

“Hmmm? Stinks? Who stinks?” Large, callused hands

reached up and wrapped around the horse's neck, hugging
the beast tight. “She smells like my Serne, beautiful lady.”

Quan could swear he saw the dark brown eyes light with

mischief and then Serne pulled her head up, dragging Jael
from the furs, leaning back down to nip Jael's leather-clad hip
with sharp teeth.

“Ow! Oh, you're in trouble, you evil-tempered nag!” Jael

was laughing, stumbling forward as he rubbed his hip and
leaping at the horse.

Quan sat quickly, pulling the furs around him, trying to

avoid being trampled by the pair. “You see, dirty and smelly
and willful. I presume you don't allow her in your tent.”

Jael was climbing over her neck, laughing and teetering as

she backed and twisted, trying to knock him off. “She won't
fit, hasn't since she was a yearling and stopped being afraid
of the dark!”

Quan shuddered at the thought of a colt inside the tent

along with however many were in Jael's family. He would
make sure that Jael knew that they would share a tent
together, just the two of them, apart from his family and his
animals. Jael settled upon the horse's back and she began to

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fight him, bucking and rearing, tearing through the trees,
stamping and whinnying. Jael's laugh answered her, strong
thighs keeping him seated, bronzed skin showing through the
laces of his leggings, braids flying behind him. Jael cut quite
the handsome figure, shown to his advantage on the horse.
Quan felt the pull of his desire in his belly. It made him
wonder, not for the first time, if he himself was such a good
catch, just a few years shy of forty summers, he would never
again look young and handsome. The pair played for a bit,
Jael finally sliding from the tawny coat of the horse and
talking to her softly, reaching up to stroke her dark red mane,
pet her ears. Quan shivered as a breeze made its way
beneath the fur covering him. “Do you know where my pack
wound up?”

“Yes. It sitting on that big flat stone. Watch my blades,

they're sharp.” Jael nodded near the river's edge. “If we
hurry, we can be back in time for latemeal.”

Quan wrinkled his nose, expecting his stomach to rebel at

the thought of food so soon after seeing the bear cleaned, but
to his surprise it merely rumbled hungrily. He stood and
limped slowly to his pack.

Jael gathered the pelt and meat, arranging a series of

branches to drag it on. Then, he took a long spear and waded
down into the water, looking down intently.

Smiling, Quan drew nearer. This he could help with. He

closed his eyes and let the course of the river make itself
known to him. Jael was as a beacon to him, large and warm
in the water's path. The fish were smaller, but the big ones

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were still fairly easy to find. “To your right, several steps, you
shouldn't have to move to get them with your spear.”

There was an answering grunt and a series of quick, sharp

stabs into the water, followed by a triumphant crow. When he
opened his eyes, Jael was beaming at him, two large trout
snared by his spear.

“Oh, that was... what a gift you have, Quan!” Jael's eyes, a

deep, dark green, bounded by a heavy ring of brown, shone
at him. “Shall I cook them now, or take them to add to the
late meal?”

“Well I find in myself quite a hunger,” he admitted. It

would be nice to have more time alone with Jael, to be
soothed by the man's presence.

“Now it is, then.” Quick as a flash, Jael was on the bank,

wrapping the fish in the dark, broad-leafed plants that grew
alongside the river. By the time Quan was fully dressed, Jael
had built a respectable fire, the fish resting within the coals,
four thick tubers dug from within a deep saddlebag and
baking alongside.

Quan settled next to him, pleased that Jael had chosen to

sit away from the smoke of the fire. “Tell me about your
Tribe.”

“My Tribe?” Jael leaned back on his elbows. “Our Clan

Leader is Nikor and there are several ba'chi. Aklan is their
elder and my grandmother Hali is the clan healer. I have six
brothers—all but one are warriors. Kaen is a hi'icha, a great
Guardian who lives with another tribe. My father is the Herd
Chief—he can speak with the mi'it.”

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“And you? I'm sure there is something special about you

as well.”

“I hunt.”
Quan chuckled. “With great and uncanny ability, I

imagine.”

“No, with Rahat and spears and throwing blades.” Jael

grinned over. “And the blessings of the Winds.”

“You are very good with your weapons. You will be a good

hi'icha.”

“Hi'icha? Me?” Jael shook his head. “I am no Guardian.

Naki does not require more than a hunter.”

“But...” Quan let his words fade. Surely Jael would no

longer be pursuing this Naki now that he was there. “I
thought you said that you used to pretend that you were
hi'icha?”

“Yes, when I was a child. We all hoped the winds would

honour us. But Aklan has Y'sel. Hali had her Jael until he
passed. Even Kaen had to leave when Mut called him.” Jael
shrugged. “There is no shame in being a hunter, in providing
for mate and tribe, in making sons. Perhaps, one day, my son
will be hi'icha, will find the greatest bond with another.”

Quan could not quite believe that Jael could not feel the

pull between them and he leaned forward, hand resting on
the bare flesh of Jael's arm. Oh, he could feel it, could feel the
way Jael's skin warmed him, the way the man's presence
made his belly ache with hunger instead of magic. “If I were
to stay with your tribe, someone new would be called to be
hi'icha.”

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“I... Yes, someone new, Quan. There are many eligible

warriors in the Tribe who would leap at the chance to bond
with you.” Jael looked at him, patted his hand. “I... I have
never felt a... a call from another man and I intend to win a
place in Naki's tent.”

Quan's heart grew heavy, even as the pleasure of Jael's

touch moved through him. “But what if you are the one for
me?”

“The one for you?” Jael shook his head. “How could I be? I

am a hunter, the youngest—to be called for one as powerful
as you—your One would need to be a great Warrior. No,
Quan, I am a hunter, that is all. I cannot be your hi'icha.
They... there is passion in that bond. I... I do not feel passion
towards other men.”

Quan shook his head. No, this was wrong, it couldn't be.

Jael was confused, holding onto a boyhood crush. “You have
not felt passion to men in the past, that does not mean you
will not. Do you feel nothing toward me, Jael? Nothing at all?”

“Feel? I would like to be your friend; I shared my furs with

you. I wish you no ill and will gladly give you a place of honor
within our Tribe.” Jael looked honestly confused, eyes dark
and lips drawn tight.

Quan looked away, blinking back the tears that collected in

his eyes. He drew his legs up, wrapping his arms around
them. This didn't make sense. None at all. Jael was the one
for him, he could feel it. Why then could Jael not only not feel
it in return, but have no interest whatsoever? “Shall I tell you
what I feel? What I know? My place in your tribe will be at

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your side, in your tent, among your furs. The bond calls to me
and tells me it is true.”

“My furs?” Jael shook his head. “But I am waiting for Naki.

For her mourning to end. My brother, Kaen, the bond took
seasons to form between him and Mut. How can there be a
bond, Quan? We are strangers.”

“Your touch eases me as nothing in my life has. I have

been searching all my life to fill the void and now I feel that
my search is over.”

Jael looked at him, brow furrowed. “We must speak to

Aklan, the Elders. They will advise us. Perhaps you are meant
for another that is close to me.” Jael tilted his head, braids
falling haphazardly. “The winds know which way they blow.
Aklan will know.”

“Yes. Of course.” He nodded and hugged his legs tighter. A

seer would clear up the confusion, lead him to the one he was
meant for.

Jael was watching him, Quan could feel the man's gaze,

heavy and searching. He tried to summon a smile for Jael, but
he could not. He was confused and aching now, his earlier
happiness transmuted.

The wind blew his hair, a strand landing on Jael's face. The

dark hair was taken, rubbed for a moment between callused
fingers. “You wear no braids?”

He shook his head. Even that touch felt right, though he

could not actually feel it. “I keep it in a single braid and tied
on my head to keep it neat and tidy. It is the way of my
people to keep it long, but we do not mark anything by it.”

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“No? Mine hold meaning for me.” Jael held one decorated

braid up. “They hold the memories of those we cherish, of
things lost.”

Quan reached out and touched the braid, fingers sliding

over the beads and feathers. “Would you tell me the stories of
your braids?”

Jael looked over at him with a pleased smile, dark red

colouring his cheeks. “You wish to hear my braid songs? I am
honored.”

Jael touched the long braid that Quan held and began to

sing in a low, guttural voice. The words were common and,
except for a few very specialized terms, Quan could follow
along easily. The braid was for his namesake, his grandfather,
felled by a stray rahat in the midst of battle. Jael had but a
dim memory of the man, but his strength and caring was
echoed in the song. The second braid was for his mother, who
died in childbirth many seasons passed. Jael sang of her
patience, of her skill with a loom and needle and wooden
flute. He sang of her eyes, which she shared with him alone,
two spots of green in a sea of browns. A tiny braid was for the
unnamed sister, never taking a true breath, but remembered
with the hope that she ran free in the Land of the Sun. The
fourth was well-decorated, heavy. The song told of a white
horse, strong and fast and brave who sang of mountains and
green grass and mares with silken manes. Ol'ki. His first mi'it.
His first mi'it who sacrificed his life to protect the herd.

Jael's eyes were sombre as he finished his quiet songs.
“Your songs and your braids do them honour, Jael.” The

feeling that he and this man belonged together was stronger

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now. “Do your only wear braids for those who have passed
beyond this realm?”

“No. Those who share ki'ita wear braids. Those honoured

as tribal hi'icha wear one.” Jael tilted his head. “It is a
commitment to the Winds, that you will honour until you
breathe no longer. Like these.” He stroked the scars upon his
cheeks. “These mark me as a man, as a member of the
Tribe.”

“You are an honour to your tribe, Jael.” And one day you

will wear a braid for me and I for you, he thought to himself.

Jael looked pleased and a bit embarrassed. “I try to

honour my Ata, my father. He is a strong, brave man.”

“I look forward to meeting him. And your brothers. I hope

they will be proud of you.”

Jael used a long piece of driftwood to pull the fish and

tubers from the fire, pushing half of the impromptu meal
toward Quan. “They should be done by now. Do you have a
blade to eat with?”

Quan smiled and pulled out a small packet from his bag.

The white napkin was neatly wrapped around a small, sharp
knife and a utensil with two prongs, as well as a spoon. “I'm
all set.”

Jael slipped a small stone knife from his waist bag and slit

the scorched leaves. “Do you have an entire household in that
bag?”

“I have enough to keep me clean and happy. I am not fond

of dirt and mess.”

Jael chuckled. “Yes. I've noticed.”

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The fish was white fleshed and flaky, the tubers sweet and

soft. Jael ate quickly, slicing off long pieces of fish and tuber.
He ate slower, cutting the fish and tuber neatly, using the
prong to spear the pieces and place them neatly into his
mouth.

“It isn't a race,” he said quietly.
“A race?” Jael tilted his head, one golden eyebrow arching.
“You have cooked a delicious meal. You should take the

time to savour it.”

“You did not have six brothers when you were growing up,

did you?”

“No, I did not. I have no siblings.” He wondered what that

had to do with Jael's eating habits.

Jael nodded, quickly and efficiently finishing the rest of the

fish. “If there is competition for the food, you learn to eat
quickly so that it remains on your plate and not in your
brother's stomach.”

“Surely as you have grown older, you no longer compete

for the food?” Quan suppressed a shudder at the thought of
the mess that six grown men could make, fighting for their
share. Not in his tent.

A happy laugh sounded, Jael picking out long, thin,

unbroken bones with his blade. “Now that we are older, we
are hungrier and bolder and less worried about incurring our
Ata's wrath.”

As Quan watched, Jael carefully cleaned the bones,

sharpening the ends to wickedly sharp points. The man pulled
a roll of leather from his pack and added the newly formed
needles alongside a dozen more. Then Jael cleaned his blade

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and leaned back against the grass, head resting heavily on
his hands, eyes focused on the clouds, bronze belly soaking
up the fading sunlight. Quan watched out of the corner of his
eyes as he finished eating. Jael was certainly a lovely looking
young man. “Do the clouds look the same where you come
from? Aklan says the sky is the same everywhere, that it lasts
forever and breeds the winds.”

Quan looked up, considering the clouds. “Yes, the sky is

the same everywhere, but some places it is easier to see that
than others. Here the sky is bounded by trees. I have been to
places where it was not, where it went on as far as the eye
could see.”

“Truly? A'chaffa! How wondrous a sight! Where do the

birds lives? The squirrels?” Jael's eyes were fastened on him,
curious and wide.

Quan chuckled. “I have seen birds that find their homes in

rock-faces, others in the ground, in bushes. Squirrels I have
only seen in trees and if a place has no trees, it has no
squirrels.”

“No squirrels...” Jael pondered that for a moment. “I saw

the Great Plains once, the grasses went on forever. I heard a
warrior tell a story once about a great pond, wider than
anyone could swim.”

“Yes, there are several seas in fact. I have sailed on two to

other lands.” He waited eagerly for Jael's reaction to that.

Jael sat up, blinked at him. “You have? Oh, what songs

you must know! I wish to hear all the songs of your life. All
my songs are old and told again and again, just echoes of my

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brothers'.” Jael stretched and chuckled. “In fact, meeting you
is the only new song I have.”

“I have a feeling meeting me is the beginning of a whole

new set of songs for you, Jael.”

“Do you think so? There is little I can do that my brothers

have not. I am the youngest and simply follow behind one or
another.”

Leaning forward, Quan looked carefully in all directions.

“Funny, I don't see any of them here today.”

A bright laugh sounded, Jael's stomach rippling beneath

the sun. “No. Not here. In this, you only have Di'lat's
youngest son.”

“Well then, I have before me Jael, Di'lat's son, mighty

hunter and rescuer of ba'chi. Do not hide yourself in your
brothers, Jael.”

“I do not hide!” Jael looked at him, gnawing at his bottom

lip. “I know my place in the Tribe and do not try to be more
than I am.” The words had a well-practiced flatness, as if oft
repeated.

Leaning forward, he placed his hand gently on Jael's leg,

the rightness of the contact making him wonder anew why
Jael could not feel it. “I did not mean you any insult, Jael,” he
said, voice quiet, sincere. “On the contrary, I am very
impressed by the young man I see before me. If you are
‘only’ the youngest son of Di'lat, your tribe must be awesome
to behold indeed.” Quan couldn't help but notice that Jael
didn't shy away from his touch, didn't even tense, muscle
relaxed beneath the weight of his hand He kept his hand
where it was, enjoying the sense of connection. “You're a fine

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representative. Having met you makes me look forward to
meeting them.”

“Well, it's a ride, but we can make it by the deep night, if

we leave soon.” Jael frowned. “It depends on that leg, really.
The sooner we leave, the quicker the healers can help, but
the longer we wait, the more the flesh knits. What do you
say? How do the Winds guide you?”

Quan tilted his head and smiled. He would not pass up the

opportunity to spend more time alone with Jael. “Your furs
are quite comfortable, if you don't mind sharing again, I think
I would like to wait and make the journey in the morning.”

Jael nodded. “It is too bad the bear's pelt is still fresh, then

you could have furs of your own. I was not expecting to be
more than one this night.” He looked into the clear sky. “It
will be cool, but dry tonight, thank the Winds.”

“I don't take up that much room and we can keep each

other warm.” Letting his smile grow warmer, he slid his hand
in slow circles just above Jael's knee.

Jael blinked, then flushed, sitting up and poking the fire,

stirring it, leg moving from beneath his hand. “Oh! Oh, I... I
don't... I mean... I don't imagine it'll get that cold. The furs
will be good and I'll keep the fire going. For that matter, I
should gather more wood. So you're warm. You stay here and
rest and I'll find wood.”

With that, Jael was up and heading for the trees, long hair

swinging loose along his back.

Quan sighed and went about the business of neatening

their small camp area, rearranging the furs and brushing the
area with a leafy branch. He had waited this long to find his

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mate, the one who would help him, he supposed he could
wait a few more days. He was sure that when they arrived at
Jael's tribe, the elders could be counted on to assist in
convincing Jael that he was meant to be hi'icha to Quan's
ba'chi.

In the meantime, he would clean.

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Chapter 2

Between his wood gathering and Quan's cleaning, they

were going to have the most pristine campsite ever slept in.
Serne looked confused, especially when Quan shooed her
away from the vicinity, insisting that she was unclean and
smelly. Jael really hoped Serne didn't understand Quan's
accent, or someone would wake up with a pile of manure
dropped far too close for comfort. Serne was a sensitive lady.

They hadn't talked much, Jael keeping himself busy and

away from the stranger. He felt badly, honestly he did, Quan
had seemed so sure, so convinced that they would share
ki'ita. But they couldn't and it wouldn't have been honourable
or fair to allow the man hope. He was meant to be Naki's
mate, to bring food for her tent and make sons. Jael sighed;
he didn't have the slightest interest in touching another man.
He wanted Naki. Still, it seemed wrong, the hurt in Quan's
face. He dug through his saddlebags, searching the dried fruit
cached within, a special treat that he hoped would ease the
tension weighting the air. “I have some honeyed dried
berries. Would you like to share them with me?”

Quan's face lit up at the mention of berries. “When we get

back to your people, I could make you berries with cream and
sweetcakes. I have never tasted a more delightful treat and
insisted on the recipe. In the meantime, berries sound
delightful, even without cream.”

“Oh, berries and cream are very good, especially at the

spring Gatherings. They are so fresh, then.” Jael smiled and

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settled on the ground, offering the small woven basket of
blackberries.

Quan's small bundle of small-knife and prongs and spoon

came out again. Using the spoon to scoop up a number of the
berries, Quan held it out to Jael. “They are your berries, after
all.”

Jael scooped out a few and then placed the basket

between them. “Food is to be shared. Have as many as you
need.”

He popped a few berries in his mouth, humming happily at

the bright-sweet tartness.

Quan was eating the berries as if he hadn't eaten in quite

some time, almost messy with them, face filled with pleasure.
It wasn't long before he put his spoon down, about half the
original berries still in the basket. “Thank you.”

“There are more. Please, the skies are good to us and

when we enjoy their gifts, it brings us blessings.” Jael was
grinning, pleased his berries eased the stranger's
unhappiness.

“I have had my share, though I would gladly eat one or

two more of yours if you are not hungry...” Quan looked
wistfully at the basket.

“I am not. Please, eat.” Jael chuckled. Tomorrow they

would ride the route near the berry patch. That would be
pleasing and Naki might like berries.

Quan took the basket in his hands and ate more slowly this

time, scooping the berries out one at a time. “When I was a
child, my mother traveled. We only saw her once every new

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moon or so. She always brought berries with her. It was the
only time we ever had them.”

“Was she a warrior? Did she ride to protect your tribe?”

Jael's mother had not traveled, not with so many boys to
corral and so many scraped chins and knees to heal.

“No, she was a ba'chi—a seer. But her gift made her mad

and she would spend days out among the forests, doing I
know not what though there were always tales of a wild
woman in the trees that I always thought must have been
her.” Quan stopped eating and carefully returned the basket
to the ground between them, the rest of the berries uneaten.
“It is what happens when a ba'chi cannot find the right person
to share the burden with them.”

“Mad? But your father? Was he not her hi'icha?” Jael

frowned, sorrow ringing in his heart. To be the son of a
madwoman, to only have good berries on the new moon—no
wonder this man had sorrow in his eyes. “I would hear her
song, if you have need to share it. Is she moved to the Land
of the Sun?”

Quan shook his head. “My father was not her hi'icha. She

said that the hi'icha were becoming more and more scarce,
harder to find. When I came along, she bonded with my
father.

“It was she who shared with me all the legends of the

great bonds you call ki'ita. Stories of a mate, a single one
person meant for each gifted one. She made me promise I
would not settle—that I would search until I found the one
made for me.” Quan's voice grew hoarse and when he looked

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up at Jael, his eyes were wet. “She said that my hi'icha was
out there and that I would find him.”

Jael felt a pang inside, sympathy filling him. Oh, how

horrible—to search and search and never find and have your
mother's ghost eat at your heart. “I will help you, Quan. I will
help you find your hi'icha. Surely that is why the Winds lead
me to you.”

Quan's expression seemed to grow even sadder. “Thank

you, Jael.”

He looked down at his hand. “I am a good hunter, Quan. I

can find any prey. There is hope.”

“Any prey? Even one that you do not know you chase?

Perhaps there is indeed hope.”

He looked up with a smile. “Well, I suppose if I keep

dragging fine young warriors before you, you can tell which
one is yours, yes?”

“Yes, Jael. I can tell which warrior is mine when I see him,

when I touch him. I will know.” Quan's eyes bore into his
own.

He met Quan's eyes, refusing to back away. “And, once

you have found your hi'icha and the bond is true, no one can
deny it. It is the way of things.”

Quan nodded. “No one, not even ba'chi or hi'icha, can

deny it.”

“So we are taught.” Jael felt settled in his belly. Surely

now Quan understood that he was not the one the man was
seeking, but was instead a friend, someone who would help in
the searching. He reached out and ate another berry. “Tell me
of your homeland? Or of the giant ponds you traveled?”

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by Sean Michael

“Oh, the giant ponds or seas as they are called are far

more interesting,” Quan told him, face changing as he spoke
of the water. The thin face lit up, eyes, themselves the colour
of water, becoming bright. “Large boats built of wood float
across them, using the wind to make them move. It is truly a
wondrous thing to be in the middle of water and barely be
able to see land in any direction. Most peaceful, though I
prefer to live on rivers—the pure water feels so much better.”

Jael frowned, tilted his head. “Pure? The big ponds have

spoiled water? Are there no fish?” How awful, to have such
places where there could be no hunting!

“There are fish, but the water is salted—you cannot drink it

and if it gets on your skin it leaves a salty residue.”

“Salted!” He grinned, shaking his head. “Do the fish taste

salty?”

“No, surprisingly they don't. They are different fish though

than you find in the rivers—big fish.” Quan gave him a warm
smile. “You would probably enjoy hunting them as they do
not appear to be very easy to bring in.”

Jael nodded, excited just at the thought. “I would like to

see these large fish who do not taste salty, test my strength
against theirs.”

He stretched, looking out over the river, wondering if he

got a smallboat and followed the water, if it would take him to
a big pond.

“Perhaps one day I will take you there. Though really, the

wide rivers are far more pleasant—the water pure and clean
and...” Quan closed his eyes and hummed at the thought.
“There is nothing like the taste and feeling of pure water.”

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Jael chuckled. “Yes, especially after a long, hot day of

hunting. Sweaty leathers and heavy braids are unpleasant in
the full sun.” He winked. “Of course, the other side is washing
in the icy water come the dark months, yes? I would rather
stay dry then.”

Quan's eyes opened, blue flashing at him. “Oh, but if you

have someone clean to warm up with after—washing in icy
water is not so bad. Refreshing. Invigorating. Pleasant.”

Jael laughed and rolled his eyes. “Pleasant? I cannot

imagine that any woman—warm or otherwise—could make
me enjoy bathing in cold water.” Not even Naki was that
wonderful. Close, but not quite.

“But I would imagine those who share the bond of ki'ita

could indeed warm each other.” Quan gazed at him for a
moment, unblinking, and then looked away, hands primly
smoothing down the edges of his tunic.

Jael thought on it a moment and then shrugged. “I will ask

Kaen. He will know.” Then he grinned and reached over to pat
one of Quan's arms. “Or perhaps you will find out soon and
then you will tell me. I would be interested to know.”

Quan's expression wavered for a moment and then settled

into a small smile. “Hopefully I will have an answer for you
this coming dark.”

“Will you know so quickly, then?” Jael shook his head.

“When Kaen was chosen by the Winds, his One took days to
hear his call.” Kaen had been in agony, pacing and worrying,
not sleeping and mooning over Mut. It had been painful to
watch.

“Really? They did not both know immediately?”

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“No. Kaen said it was because Mut was from another tribe

and they did not get to touch, to cement the bond.” He
grinned. “The morning after the ritual, though, that was
solved.”

“Oh.” Quan sighed. “I grow weary, Jael. Perhaps we can

sleep now and I will decide in the morning if I wish to travel
to your tribe or not.”

“Wish to?” Jael frowned and nodded. Had he offended the

ba'chi? Caused upset? “Of course. I will gather the bedding
and clear the fish away.”

“I am tired, hunter, and heart sore from having my hopes

of finding the one meant for me dashed again and again.
Perhaps I will just travel to the big river that runs from the
mountains and lose myself among the waters.” Quan curled
where he sat, arms around his legs, head tucked low.

“I meant no offence, ba'chi. If it eases you, Kaen and Mut

are as one now, happy.” He paced and cleared the fish away,
stealing glances at the unhappy man, unaccountably nervous.

“Good for them,” Quan answered dully. Another sigh

sounded and then the strange blue eyes closed. Jael's cheeks
heated, stomach clenching. This was why he hunted. No one
to offend. He gave Quan the best furs, heading down to the
water for a swim, stripping quickly outside the ring of light
from the fire. Just as he got into the water, Quan slid into the
river with him, graceful and pale in the moonlight. “The water
eases my soul. I see it also soothes you, hunter.”

“I like to swim, especially at night. It is like another

world.”

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by Sean Michael

That earned him a smile, Quan swimming easily on his

back in a wide circle around him.

“Have you been swimming long? You seem so at home.”

He turned, watching the ba'chi move.

“They say I was born in the water, that I would cry if I was

taking too far from the river. I learned to swim before I
learned to walk. I yearn for it, always—the water's touch the
only lover I have truly felt right with.”

“Oh.” For some reason, the idea of this man being so sad

hurt his heart. “Well, now you are in water and with a friend,
yes?”

“Yes, hunter. The water and you have eased my heart.”

Quan rolled over and dove down into the water, disappearing.

He chuckled, turning and looking for ripples in the water,

hunting the ba'chi. He couldn't find any sign of Quan
anywhere and it was beginning to be a long time since the
man had gone under the surface. He frowned, heart pounding
as he watched, listened. No prey was perfectly silent. Even
drowning—Winds forbid it—would leave a sign.

Suddenly Quan sprang from the water right in front of him

in a big splash, soaking him thoroughly. He gasped and
sputtered and then, without thought of the repercussions,
pounced. They went down under together, Quan as slippery
as a suti fish in his arms, twisting and turning and eluding
him, only to pull him down again once he had resurfaced for a
breath.

The ba'chi was stronger than he seemed, pale skin

covering wiry muscles. Jael managed to find a foothold long
enough to take a few deep breaths, laughing loud and long

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into the night. Quan came to a stop in front of him, smile
wide on the thin face, water on the pale skin glistening like
jewels in the moonlight. The long hair was unbound and
falling like black sheets of water over Quan's shoulders.

“Oh.” He smiled and reached out to touch the dark hair. “It

looks like magic! I have never seen anything like it!”

“I told you I loved the water.” Quan's smile grew larger;

he seemed to step closer.

“She seems to care for you also. She held you in her

embrace for many heartbeats.” Happiness looked good, felt
right on that face. Quan simply nodded, face turned up to
him, fingers moving through the water. His belly tightened,
muscles twitching nervously. It was as if... No. Surely not.
Jael shivered, feet shifting on the stones. “I... I should find
some stone... no, wood. I need wood. For the fire.”

“I would think you have more than enough wood, hunter.

But it grows late and my wound begins to ache again, we
should go sleep.” Quan laughed and a hand trailed along his
shoulder and down to his belly and then Quan was gone,
diving into the water and resurfacing near the shore.

He stood there, blinking, looking at his belly.
No.
Surely not.
Absolutely not.
Jael shivered and swam slowly to shore. Perhaps he should

hunt some wood and find a dark place to relax and think of...

Of Naki.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Chapter 3

Six hours.
The sun had traveled from just above the horizon to well

overhead. Normally being on the back of a smelly horse for
that long would have left Quan with a headache and a
desperate need for a bath, but not this time. He was snuggled
up tight against Jael, the hunter having assured him he would
be in less pain if he rode behind. The advantages of riding like
that had soon become apparent. He was pressed against Jael
from balls to shoulders, head resting against the top of the
broad back, arms wrapped around the thick, muscled waist.
He could have stayed there all day and all night, the sway of
the horse moving them together.

Jael had pointed out different landmarks here and there,

the deep voice rumbling through him. “We will be home soon.
Just over the hill near the sun.” Jael patted his hand, fingers
callused and warm. “Then I will take you to the Elders.”

“Thank you, Jael.” He tried not to sigh, not to let the

sadness that Jael did not feel the bond fill him. He would not
lose a moment of this closeness—it would be all he had when
they parted.

“Are you well? Should I stop?” Jael's body rippled beneath

his hands, the first sign of unease in the hunter following on
the heels of Quan's unhappiness.

Oh, it was tempting, to say yes and extend the time they

had together. But it would be dishonest and he could not deal
with this man dishonestly, it would hurt to do so. “I have

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by Sean Michael

enjoyed our journey, hunter and am sad to see it come to an
end.”

Jael nodded. “When you have found your ki'ita you will

leave, then? We will no longer be friends?” The hunter
sounded melancholy, but resigned.

“No, Jael, I imagine that we will still be friends.”
“Good. I enjoy your company.” Jael sighed and then

chuckled. “Of course, once the Elders have you, they will send
me back out to hunt and not be a nuisance.”

“Perhaps,” he answered casually. In truth he did not know

what the Elders would do once he told them he believed that
Jael was the one made for him.

The rest of the ride was completed in a warm, comfortable

silence, the sense of calm and peace not breaking until
another warrior, a carbon copy of Jael, but with bright brown
eyes, came riding up.

“Di'ben sur, Brother. The hunt went well?” Those eyes

were curious, questioning.

“It did. We have pheasant and deer and bear. I also met

Quan, a ba'chi. I am bringing him to meet the Honoured
Ones.” Jael's back slowly tensed.

“A ba'chi, little brother?” The eyes grew sharper. “Naki is

in her tent. Wouldn't you prefer I introduce the ba'chi and see
he is well-treated?”

“No. I will not leave Quan behind until he is under the care

of the Honoured Ones.”

Quan gave Jael's waist a small squeeze of thanks. Even

had Jael not been the one meant for him, he would have
preferred to be introduced by the man who knew him and not

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by Sean Michael

by someone who obviously only wanted to improve his own
status. Jael was obviously the more honourable brother. Jael
rode on, head held high. “Do not worry, Quan. We are friends
and I will see you to the Elders and help you find your ki'ita.
You have my word.”

He squeezed again. “Thank you, Jael.”
He sat back, a tiny bit, just enough to let him see the tribe

as they rode to the centre of the tents. The tribe was large,
dozens and dozens of eyes turning to watch. Many people
nodded at Jael, smiling and calling out welcome. He stopped
before a group of women, nodding. “I have bear and bird
here. I wish to keep the bear skin, but the rest is for the
tribe.”

Jael slid off the horse and reached up to help Quan down.

“Come, let us meet the Elders.”

Quan slid down into Jael's arms, bracing for the pain he

was expecting, but his thighs were not as sore as he had
expected and his wound was almost healed.

Jael wandered through the crowd, stopped only when he

reached a stone building. He spoke softly to the young
warrior at the entrance and then looked at Quan with a smile.
“They will summon you shortly.”

“You will stay and introduce me, yes?” He had to stop

himself from grabbing at Jael and clinging.

“If the Honoured Ones will allow it, yes.” Jael nodded, eyes

catching his own. “The healer is my mother's mother. She is
dear to me.”

“Perhaps then you have a touch of her magic in you, for I

feel quite well, my wound almost gone.”

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by Sean Michael

“Me?” Jael laughed, as did the crowd around them.
Another carbon copy of Jael looked over. “Our little brother

has only one magic, ba'chi, and it is not healing.”

“Or singing.” Called out another.
“Or playing melidu or throwing detara.”
Jael's cheeks heated, but the hunter wore a smile. “No. I

am a hunter.”

And a hi'icha, though he kept those words to himself, not

wishing to embarrass Jael further. Still, his spine stiffened
and he stood straight and regal, proud to stand beside this
hunter. Soon, he would be able to defend his own from such
mocking.

“Come honoured ba'chi. The Elders would not have you

wait.” The tall warrior returned from inside the building,
bowed deep.

“Come, Jael,” Quan said, turning to the hunter. “You can

introduce me.”

“Oh. I...” Jael blinked and then nodded. “Yes, my friend. I

would be honored.” Then he was given a slow, sweet smile.
He gasped, covering the sound up with a cough, happy that
his sudden erection was hidden beneath his outer layer of
clothing.

He let Jael go first, following the man into the cool, dark

room. There were eight people—five men and three women,
sitting before a fire, eyes sharp as they entered the room. For
a moment, no one spoke, then an older woman with eyes like
Jael's spoke up. “Who have you brought us, Jael?”

“This is Quan, Grandmother. He is a ba'chi in search of a

ki'ita. He has been wounded, but the skies spared him.”

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“Actually, it was Jael who saved my life.” Quan gave a

warm smile to Jael and then bowed to the Elders. “Di'ben nor,
Honoured Ones.”

“Di'ben nor, Ba'chi.” The Elders bowed to him, hands

touching their foreheads and hearts, as the large man in the
center spoke. “It is good that the Winds has led you here.”

Jael bowed deeply, moving to stand by the door, quiet and

still, eyes nervous.

“Yes, I believe the Winds finally answered my prayers. I

have traveled long and far, searching for the one who was
made for me—hi'icha to my ba'chi—someone with whom I will
share ki'ita.”

“And the Winds told you you will find your ki'ita within our

tribe?” Jael's grandmother nodded. “We are honored.”

He took a deep breath and looked again at Jael. He had no

wish to hurt the hunter, indeed, hurting him was the last
thing he wanted, but he believed with his body and his heart
that Jael was his ki'ita. “I believe I have already found my
ki'ita.”

Jael blinked, gave him a curious, questioning look. Then

the gravely voice of Jael's grandmother sounded again. “You
have? Which warrior is so honoured, Ba'chi Quan?”

“Jael son of Di'lat is my ki'ita.” He stood tall, chin up,

staring at the Elders, daring them to contradict him, though
he had a suspicion the hunter who stood behind him would.

He heard Jael's gasp. “Quan—I told you I would help you

find your One! I am no one's hi'icha. I am a hunter. Just a
hunter.”

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The Council just sat and watching, expressions ranging

from confusion to joy.

“I am sorry, Jael—I did not mean to surprise you, but I

believe that you are my ki'ita. I will have no other, but I will
not hound you, I will leave if you truly do not believe in your
heart that you could ever come to care for me.”

Jael blinked again, cheeks dark red. “I... I do not... Not

with a man, Quan.”

“Jael,” The voice that interrupted Jael was sure, firm.

“Return to your tent and stay. We wish to speak with Quan
alone and then we will send for you.”

He did not want Jael to leave, but he had no choice, Jael

himself had no wish to stay. He blinked back the tears that
threatened, his heart hurting—so close, so near and yet still
so empty—and held his head high. Jael turned and left, braids
caught by the wind, blocking the sun for a heartbeat. The
Council Members muttered and then five of them left, leaving
the Senior Elder, Jael's grandmother and a quiet blind woman
sitting by the fire.

“Come and sit, Quan.” A faded set of green eyes smiled at

him. “I am Hali, healer and kin to your ki'ita. This is our
Chieftain, Aklan, and our foreseer, Liena. We would hear what
happened between you and Jael.”

He approached cautiously, nervous now that he was alone

with them. With Jael there everything was so clear, so solid.
He sat down across from them, far enough from the fire that
the smoke would not dirty him. “Jael saved me from a bear
and he tended my wound. It was quite bad, but is now almost
gone, the bond between us healing me.”

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“Does Jael feel the bond?” The chieftain's voice was rough,

curious. “He is not a warrior, Ba'chi. You know this?”

“His station matters not to me, only the way he makes me

feel does. When I touched him...” A shudder went through
him. “I have searched all my life for my ki'ita and it will kill
me to have come so close and lose him. I do not tell you this
to garner sympathy—it is only the truth.” He sighed heavily.
“And Jael does not feel the bond, not as I do though... there
was a time or two while we were in the woods that I thought
he did.”

Hali chuckled and winked at him. “A'chaffa! If you even

managed to speak to him a moment without Naki's name
falling from his lips, there is a bond.”

The blind woman shifted, seemed to look at him through

the cloth around her face. “There is a bond there, Hali. This is
Jael's ki'ita.”

He closed his eyes, a sob breaching his lips. Yes. Yes, he

was home. After so long, his search was over, the pain and
the need would be allowed to fade. He took a deep breath—
there was still the matter of Jael refusing him. “There is but
one problem, honoured Ones. Jael looks, but he does not see
me. He offers friendship and no more.”

Hali chuckled. “Jael is stubborn.”
Aklan nodded. “Like his mother.”
Liena's laugh rang through the building. “Like his

grandmother. We will give our hunter to you, but you will
have to make him want you.”

He tilted his head, considering for a moment. To go on, to

continue his journeys knowing his heart was here, or to wait

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by Sean Michael

and risk Jael never coming to want him, always waiting for
him to accept that and move on. There really was only one
answer he could make. “Thank you, honored ones. I will stay
and live here, with my ki'ita.”

Aklan nodded. “We welcome you into our tribe. I will bring

your ki'ita and we will seal the bond. Today.”

As the Chieftain stood, Liena smiled. “It is a great mark of

honour for a tribe to gain a ba'chi. Which gift was offered you
by the Winds?”

“Water. It comes to my call, no matter how deeply buried.”

He stood as well and bowed to them. “And I am honored as
well to be accepted, to be given your greatest hunter as my
ki'ita.”

Hali smiled and nodded. “Do you have any needs we can

meet? Food, water, information about your ki'ita?” Her faded
green eyes were twinkling, mischievous.

He found himself blushing beneath her regard. “I have no

needs—Jael took very good care of me. Though I would
reserve the offer of information for later, should it prove
necessary.”

Jael's grandmother nodded and Liena smiled, face radiant.

“Just remember he is young and Naki has him enrapt. He will
come to you, the Winds insists. Jael will learn.”

“Or you could seduce him.”
“Hali!”
Another short laugh sounded. “Quan is no child and

seduction can be quite the way to pass the time while my
stubborn grandson decides which way the... winds are
blowing him.”

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by Sean Michael

Hali gave him a wink and a girlish grin and Quan knew he

had a supporter there.

One whom Jael himself held in high esteem. He had a

feeling he was going to need all the help he could get.

* * * *

Jael stormed across the camp, furious and more than a

little sick. A'chaffa! What was the ba'chi thinking? Was the
man crazed? The crowds parted, not even his brothers getting
in his way in the first time in his memory. He was never
saving anyone from a bear again. Ever.

He was pledged to Naki, at least in his heart. She was all

he had ever wanted—her dark auburn hair, her brown eyes,
her breasts. Her hips. Her laugh and her children and her...

Just her.
As if his thoughts had conjured her up there she was,

coming toward him, eyes flashing at him. “They said you had
returned, but I didn't believe it as you had not come to see
me.”

“I brought a ba'chi for the elders.” He reached for her

hand. “I brought a bear's pelt for you.”

“A ba'chi? You brought the elders a better gift than you

brought me.” She pouted at him, keeping her hand to herself.

“Naki, a ba'chi is not a gift. He is a... ba'chi.” He fought his

sigh, hand pushing through his hair. “How are the children?”

“They miss their father. As do I. Ah... my Silan was a real

warrior. A man to be proud of.”

It was a bitter flavor, the fury and shame that

accompanied those words. He was no warrior, no hi'icha.
Simply a hunter. The ba'chi was wrong.

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“I will never find another man like him,” Naki told him with

a sigh, eyes bright with unshed tears.

“No. But you have one here that would assure you never

hungered.”

She chuckled suddenly, patting his cheek like he was still a

child. “You are so young, Jael, barely a man.”

“I was man enough for the winds to entrust a ba'chi to,

man enough to feed your children during the winter.” He
grabbed her hand, heart pounding. “Please, Naki. Be my
mate. Agree to be my own.”

If she would, the Elders would see that Quan did not

belong to him.

“Jael!” She pulled her hand away. “I am still in mourning

for my fallen mate! How could you ask me to be yours when
my heart still belongs to him?”

“Because if you do not? The ba'chi will claim me.”
She gave him a startled look and then began to laugh.

“Oh, Jael. For a moment, I believed you.”

She shook her head, still giggling almost girlishly when

Aklan came up to them. “I thought here was where I would
find you.”

He ducked his head. “Aklan. Have you spoken with the

ba'chi?”

“I have, Jael. He will stay with us, help to make our tribe

strong.” Aklan waited until he looked up to meet the Elder's
eyes. “You are his hi'icha, Jael. He is insistent. The ba'chi are
a strange and wonderful thing, yes? They know things we
cannot. We must trust he knows this.”

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by Sean Michael

No. “But he is a man, Aklan. I have no desire for him, no

passion.” Please, Aklan, I have only a handful of summers. Do
not condemn me to this.

“If you will not accept the bond, he will leave, Jael. We

have plenty of hunters, but ba'chi... they are much rarer.”
Aklan's eyes were sympathetic, but there was a will of rock
and bone together in them.

“And my future sons, daughters, they mean nothing to the

elders?” His heart could not decide whether to find fury or
sorrow.

“Jael, please. Do not make this harder than it must be.”
Naki had been watching them, now she broke in. “Surely

there must be a mistake, Aklan. This is Jael after all.”

He looked over at Naki and felt Aklan do the same. He

would not be dishonored before the Elders. “I am a man,
Naki. I earned my marks.”

Naki had the grace to blush, looking away. “I'm sorry, Jael.

I can only blame my words on seeing you trailing your older
brothers for so long.”

“Am I still so much a child in your eyes? You have heard

Aklan, the ba'chi wants me for himself, as hi'icha, and still...”

She shrugged, face sad. “Who knows what the ba'chi

think? Aklan himself said they were strange.”

He was going to run screaming into the forest. Only his

pride and his honor kept him standing and still between the
woman he loved who believed him unworthy and the man he
respected who wanted to give him to the ba'chi.

She glared suddenly at him. “You would choose him over

waiting for me? When this ba'chi of yours realises what a

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mistake he has made? Do not think you can turn to me.” With
that she turned on her heel and stalked off.

Jael blinked. And blinked again. “Aklan? Did I say...?”
Aklan chuckled. “Mothers, Jael. They are far stranger than

any ba'chi.”

He almost laughed, then met Aklan's eyes again. “I wish to

be a father, Aklan. To raise a family. To love a woman. I
never have desired a man. Surely you cannot believe the
winds blow this way.”

“I'm sorry, Jael. I know you wished to mate with Naki. And

your children would have made fine warriors and hunters all.
But the winds call you to a harder task. It is only a strong
man who can put his own desires aside and follow the winds.”

He sighed softly. “Then you believe it is true?”
“Liena and your grandmother believe it is true. The ba'chi

believes it is true. I have learned to listen to the wind's
messengers, Jael. I believe it is true.”

He felt it, when his heart broke and his hopes scattered

like so much dust. “I will do as the winds will. I will honor my
tribe.”

Aklan nodded, clapping him on the back. “I knew that you

would, Jael.”

“What would you have me do next, Aklan?”
“There will be a ceremony at sunset, Jael. To bind you and

your ba'chi together before the tribe. And try not to look as
though you have been sentenced to banishment, Jael.”

His anger flared again. “No. Simply a lifetime bound to one

I cannot love.”

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“Consider, Jael, that the winds are right—then you will

grow to love him.”

His laughter was bitter as ashes. “Come, let us tell the

ba'chi I have honored your wishes.”

“You honour the winds, the tribe, your family and yourself,

Jael.” Aklan nodded. “I will bring you to him.”

* * * *

He waited nervously for Jael's return, anxious to see how

his ki'ita would take the news, a little worried about his
hunter's reaction. It seemed to take candlemarks before the
Chieftain returned, Jael in tow. “The ceremony will be held at
sunset before the Tribe.”

Jael's eyes were downcast, cheeks hot, red spots in a pale

face.

“Your boyhood dreams are about to come true, Jael. You

are to be hi'icha, we will share ki'ita. It is a day to celebrate.”
He kept his voice soft, gentle, pushing the worry away. Once
they spoke before the whole tribe he would have a lifetime to
convince Jael the bond was true, that he was not wrong.

“I have no doubt that the Tribe will show you a great

celebration. It is a great honour for a ba'chi to join the tribe.”
Jael looked over at Hali, eyes blazing, furious. She met his
gaze with a steady, calm look, refusing to look away.

Quan wondered how long it would be until sunset, he

wanted desperately to be alone with Jael, to explain and try
to make the man understand. The tension and awkwardness
that filled the tent sat in his stomach like the pains his magic
brought him. Hali frowned and stood, walking around the fire
towards him. Without a word, she touched him, hands

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stroking over his belly. Her frown deepened and she held out
her hand. “Come here, Jael, and give me your hand.”

Jael moved forward, silent and unhappy. She took the

wide, callused hand and rested it against his belly.

“Oh!” He gasped as the pains eased—not disappearing, but

softening, the edges of it losing their bite. His eyes grew wide
and he looked from Hali to Jael and back again. “What? How
did you...?”

“He is your ki'ita. He was made to ease your way.”
Jael didn't even speak, was simply watching the motion of

his own hand on Quan's belly as his grandmother spoke.
Quan nodded, once again fighting tears. His mother had
spoken of this, of the easement of pain and madness at the
hands of the right one, but he had never been able to imagine
that it would be true. This pain was one he had lived with so
long. He closed his eyes as several of his tears slipped from
his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered.
“If this is all I have to give you, this touch, is it enough?”

Jael's voice was husky, rough. “I love another, Quan. I have
never desired a man.”

Still, that hand moved, searching out his pain and easing

it.

“This is more than I have ever dreamed I would have,

Jael.” He opened his eyes, looking up into the green eyes.
“You have no idea what it is like to feel this easement. Thank
you.”

Jael nodded. “I am hi'icha, then, and I will swear myself to

you before the Tribe as I have been asked.”

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“And I will pray that one day you will see it as the honour

and joy you dreamed of when you were a boy. I would not
make you sad, Jael.”

Jael nodded again, looking at the Elders again. “I will make

space in my tent for Quan so that he has furs to sleep on, a
place for his things.”

Quan nodded, hand petting the one still on his belly. Jael's

skin was so warm and he could feel the touch from his toes to
his head. “Yes, my place is with you now.”

“As the Winds wills it.” Jael sighed softly and moved away,

turning and heading silently out the door.

The pain came back, full force, sharper than ever and

Quan hung his head, feeling as if he had cheated Jael, tricked
him. At the same time he was angry—how could Jael refute
what was between them? How could Jael not feel it?

Confused and alone, he sat by the fire, warming his hands.

* * * *

He couldn't believe they had done this—his people, his own

people had abandoned him to bring Quan into the tribe. He
had explain to Aklan that he did not desire men, that he
wished to be Naki's mate, but the chieftain would not budge
and now...

Jael shoved his clothing and furs to one side of the tent

with a growl.

Now he would never have the woman he wanted. Now he

would never have sons and daughters to hunt with, play with,
laugh with. Now his life as a man was over before it had even
truly begun. The temptation to run, to take his mi'it and hunt
forever was strong, but not as strong as his pride, his honour.

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He could not blame Quan—not after touching that knotted
stomach and feeling the pain there. He could hate the Winds,
the Elders, the bond itself, but Quan...

Jael threw himself on his furs and changed into his best

leathers, leaving the vest behind. In a moment he would go
out and become hi'icha. Quan's ki'ita.

Quan was already at the circle, dressed in new clothes,

very similar to his old ones, only white, not a spec of dirt to
be seen anywhere. Quan's face looked well-scrubbed, the
long hair loose and shining in the last of the sunlight. He had
never seen anything so white, barring a winter hare on a
snowy morning. Jael heard the whispering, the gossiping, but
he walked on towards Quan. It wasn't until he felt Naki's hand
against his arm that he faltered.

“Your affections wane quickly. Perhaps I should tell your

ba'chi that.”

“No, Naki. I...” His heart pounded; he wanted her so

desperately, wanted her love, her body. Her... Jael could feel
the eyes of the Tribe upon him, the weight of Quan's pain. “I
must do as the Wind requires.”

He turned and walked to Quan's side. Quan turned to him,

offering him a soft smile. Worry and sorrow shared space with
happiness in the ba'chi's eyes, but Quan stood straight and
sure, hand reaching out to him. He took Quan's hand, head
held high and looked at the gathered Elders. “I have come
when the Wind called. This ba'chi is my ki'ita and I give
myself to his safety, his ease, his need.”

How many times had he dreamed of saying those lines?

Why now, when they were real, did they hurt so to say?

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Quan's hand squeezed his gently. “Long have I searched

for the one who was made for me. It is with joy and honor
that I accept his pledge today.”

The Elder began to sing of his duties to Quan, how he was

honor bound to lift all burdens from a spirit weighed down
with gifts from the Wind. It made him feel better, he could
provide for Quan. He was the Tribe's best hunter and Quan
would want for nothing. Ever.

Finally Aklan stopped, offering Quan a sharp, small knife.

Quan took the knife and turned to him, water-blue eyes
looking up at him for a long moment before Quan stepped
forward. Quick and sure, a serpent-shaped line was cut from
the bottom of his throat to the bottom of his breastbone.

“You are my ki'ita,” Quan said, voice even and sure in the

waiting quiet.

His grandmother offered him a bowl filled with green

powder and he took a handful, rubbing it into the wound. It
burned into his soul, the mark permanent. “I am your ki'ita,
as you are mine.”

“I am yours, Jael.” Quan's eyes glittered up at him.
He found himself nodding. “Yes. As the Wind wills it.”
Aklan turned them to face the crowd. “The Winds have

honoured us with a new ba'chi. Honour him!”

The noise was huge, the Tribe's joy loud and raucous.

Quan's hand slid again into his, slender and warm. He looked
down, heart pounding. “There will be a celebration now. The
Elders will have a place for you at their table, as will the
ba'chi, should you wish it.”

“My place is with you.”

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“I...” He took a deep breath, his chest twinging. “Are you

thirsty? Hungry? You are the guest of honor and I provided
much game. You may have all you wish.” He needed to find
out what was required of him that Quan may always have
food and drink and furs. He would provide for his ki'ita.

“I would be honored to eat your food, Jael. And water is

always my pleasure. Mostly, I just want to sit with you, to
know that my search is over.”

He didn't know what to say, what to do. So they stood for

a few moments, watching the crowd, greeting and being
congratulated. Finally his father stood before him, handing
him a skin full of wine. “Drink, son.”

He drank deeply as his father spoke quietly with Quan,

offering his simple congratulations. His ki'ita's hand was
swallowed up by his father's, Quan smiling and bending his
head in an awkward bow.

“He is a lucky man, an honored man and a great hunter.

You will lack nothing.” Jael blushed, but nodded. He would
provide.

“I will do my best to be worthy of him.”
His father's dark eyes met his. “Your mother would be

proud. You have done well. Wear your marks proudly,
Hi'icha.”

He nodded, throat closing in a mixture of honor and panic.

“I will, Father. I will provide.”

His father left, another well-wisher replacing him. The line

of people who wished to talk to the new ba'chi seemed
interminable. The sun was well set and still they came,
Quan's voice growing more and more faint beside him. He

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looked down, worrying, and whispered, “If we go to the tent,
there is food and drink and they will allow you rest.”

Jael had only had a ki'ita for a candlemark, it would not do

to exhaust him.

“Oh, please Jael—if you would not mind leaving the

celebration. So many people, so much fuss and mess and...”
Quan sighed heavily and pulled himself quite straight again.
“It has been quite the day, has it not, my hi'icha?”

He found himself unexpectedly grinning, nodding.

“A'chaffa! This has been a day like none other. Come, I will
show you our tent.”

Without fuss he led Quan across to the edge of the

settlement, ignoring the whooping and catcalling as they
walked away. Quan was silent beside him, exhaustion and
stress pouring from him in waves. His tent was small for two,
but would do until he found another. He lifted the flap and
motioned Quan in. The weapons and woodcarvings and furs
and leathers were stacked unceremoniously to one side, to
give Quan space. “I cleared that for you, so you would have a
place of your own.”

“My place is with you,” Quan said again. He was given a

slightly forced smile. “I will clean it in the morning, there
should be a place for everything. There is something to sweep
with, I hope?” Quan's hands went up. “No, it can wait until
tomorrow. It can.”

Quan stepped gingerly to the furs and then threw his

hands up. “Oh! I have something for you.”

“You should tell me all the things you need so I can barter

for th...” He blinked. “You do? What?”

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“Yes, in my pack,” Quan told him, searching the tent.
Someone had left Quan's things by the flap, at least he

thought they were Quan's things... they weren't his and one
had a bit of bear claw stuck in the leather. “Here. Your pack
and bag.”

Quan made a face when he saw them, clucking and fussing

over them. Finally his ki'ita pulled out a small package
wrapped in cloth. “Here, for you. I began it when I first
started my search and have added to it ever since.”

He took the package, unwrapping it carefully. It scared

him that Quan had been looking for him, worried him that he
could not feel why Quan had chosen him. There was a small
wooden box, carefully made and painted the colour of water
in the sunlight. Within the box was a necklace with many
small stones, some of them quite plain, others shimmering
and shining. “There's a stone from each place I have
searched.”

“Oh!” Jael sat down hard, overwhelmed and exhausted.

Part of him wanted Quan to take it back, keep it for someone
else. Part of him insisted that he was Quan's ki'ita now—
bonded and sworn—and the necklace was his. That part took
it out of the little box. “Can I wear it?”

Quan's whole face lit up, eyes shining, smile bright. “Oh,

yes. I would like that very much.”

He held it out to Quan, the pleasure contagious. “Put it on

me?”

Quan took the necklace and fastened it around the back of

his neck, hands soft as they moved his hair and braids out of

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the way. One of the slender hands slid along the necklace,
stroking the stones and his skin together. “It's a perfect fit.”

“Thank you. It is a fine gift.” His stomach jumped again,

body shifting.

“For a fine ki'ita.” Another soft stroke across his cheek and

then Quan's hands fell away. “Thank you, Jael.”

“Do...” He cleared his throat, unsettled and aching. “Do

you hurt now?”

Quan gave him a half smile, fingers fluttering over the

slender belly. “Always, my hunter—I cannot remember the
last time there was no pain at all. It is the price of my gift.”

“Always?” He reached out without thought, touching

gently. “There should be no pain. I would have no pain for
you.”

“Oh...” Quan half gasped, half moaned. “Nothing has ever

made it tolerable the way your touch does, Jael.”

“Should I... Would you lie down in the furs and I will help

you rest?” He was this man's ki'ita. It was his job to ease that
pain.

“That would be nice,” Quan told him primly. “I have to

admit, that sleeping in your furs in the woods was the best
rest I have had in a many moons.”

“I... I will give you the best furs I have, Quan. As for the

rest, you will have to tell me what you need.” His hand kept
moving, almost of its own volition, and he hoped he was
doing it right. “I have never been a hi'icha before.”

Quan gave him a serious look. “You will share those best

furs with me, will you not? I am not a guest in your tent, but
your ki'ita.”

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He blinked, then nodded. It would be a new thing, to sleep

always with another when he was home from the hunt. Jael
wondered vaguely if he should now take his personal pleasure
elsewhere, perhaps when he bathed. Such strangeness, so
many changes. “Yes. If you would like that, I can do it. The
tent is warm, but when the winter comes, the nights have a
chill.”

“I would like that, yes, Jael.” Quan nodded, one hand

touching him briefly on the cheek. “Would it be too early to
go to our furs now? I am quite weary.”

The wine was churning in his stomach, but Jael stood and

began to spread the furs out, giving Quan the best and
warmest. He motioned to the bedding with a smile, then
worked off his ceremonial leathers, kneeling by a small bowl
of water to wash the dried blood from his body. It had
dripped down, the green mark surrounding his sacs, staining
his inner thighs. It frightened him that the wind wished to
mark him so completely.

“Is there any clean water?” Quan asked. “I would wash as

well—not come to your furs carrying the dirt of the day and of
the fires.”

“There is, in the pitcher there.” He finished washing

quickly, wrapping his loincloth around him and emptying the
bowl so Quan might use it.

Quan pulled two small cloths out of his pack and poured a

tiny bit of water into the bowl, using one of the small cloths to
wipe the bowl down. Then his new ki'ita poured the rest of
the pitcher into the bowl and, after removing his strange

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layers, began to clean himself thoroughly, even his pits and
groin were wiped down, soaped, and then rinsed.

He was going to need a bigger pitcher. Maybe two.
Quan searched through his pack again and pulled out a

long, white garment made of a soft, thin material. It was a
dress of sorts, which Quan pulled over his head: the sleeves
were long and the material reached down to Quan's ankles.
He was offered a soft smile as Quan then settled himself in
the furs. Jael extinguished the torches and poured out the
bowl again, hoping Quan would sleep, would find his rest,
stomach tight with knots.

When he returned to the bed, giving Quan ample room, his

new ki'ita rolled back until their bodies were touching. He
stiffened, surprised for a moment, then forced himself to
relax. He shared warmth with this man before they were
ki'ita, he could do so now. “Di'ben sur, Quan. May you rest
well.”

“Thank you, Jael. I do believe I shall.” A hand reached

back and petted his thigh gently. “Di'ben sur and rest well to
you as well.”

His thigh muscle jumped, stomach churning. A'chaffa, the

last thing he needed was for the wine to vinegar inside him.
He focused on the celebration outside, the laughter of the
women, the beating of the drums, anything but the hand
upon his skin.

Quan's hand slid up his leg, finding his own and tugging

gently. “Would you mind?” Quan asked as his hand was
pulled over to his ki'ita's stomach. “It feels so good when you
touch me here.”

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He nodded, hand moving immediately to ease Quan's pain.

“I would have no pain for you. Sleep.”

“Thank you, Jael.” The words were quietly, but sincerely

spoken.

“It is as it should be.” He closed his eyes, sinking into

sleep much easier than he would have imagined, dreaming of
the hunt.

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Chapter 4

Quan woke with the dawn, as he often did. Today was

different though, for today he felt rested and more at ease
than he could remember feeling in a very long time. Jael and
he had spooned closer together in the night, and he was
tucked in under the big man, warm and safe and feeling so
good. Oh, this was nice, good. Right.

Jael looked relaxed, worry and anxiety eased as his ki'ita

slept. One of Jael's hands still rested against his belly, still
moved slowly. He was a very lucky man—to have searched so
far for the one who was made for him, to have all but given
up hope of ever finding that one and then to be gifted with
him at the hands of a bear. It was quite astounding and very
wonderful.

He raised his hand and stroked Jael's cheek, eyes traveling

the increasingly familiar features. Jael snuffled, moving away
from and then into the touch, as if his body didn't understand
how it was supposed to react. He pulled his hand away, not
wanting Jael to wake up and think he was trying to take
advantage. There would be time enough for them to come
together and he wanted Jael to know what he was doing.

He slipped out from Jael's arms, put on clean clothes and

then began to set the small tent to rights. Everything was
going to need to be scrubbed. The tent was filled with bizarre
odds and ends—tortoise shells and strings of teeth, stones
and flint being formed into weapons. Quan found a roll of fine
skins beneath a pile of torn clothing, each one covered in

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drawings of animals, maps, one of a beautiful woman with
green eyes and a soft, sweet smile. He touched the picture,
this must be Jael's lady, the one he had been trying so hard
to impress. The woman had been waspish at the ceremony,
snapping rudely at him—obviously not worthy of his hunter.

“That is my mother.” Jael's voice was sleep-rough and

rumbling, his hunter unfolding himself from the furs. “Or my
memory of her. She has been long gone.”

“Oh!” He gave Jael a happy smile and turned back to the

picture, noticing now the similarities between this lady and his
own sweet man.

“Are you hungry? I will start a cook fire, if you wish. There

is meal and berries.” Jael's hand was casually cupped over his
morning erection, the loincloth tented.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why don't you take care of your

need first, my hunter. My hunger can wait.”

“My need? Oh!” Jael flushed dark, eyes fastened to the

ground. “I... Oh, I... Perhaps I should bathe first... Bring fresh
water. Wood...”

“Jael,” he said gently, keeping his soft chuckles to himself,

“we will spend the rest of our lives together—you have no
need to be embarrassed in front of me.”

“I... it's just morning... dreaming and I usually... but

you're... A'chaffa! I'll be back with wood... meal... food.” Jael
stumbled towards the entrance of the tent.

“Very well and I will see what I can do to bring some sort

of order to this mess,” he snapped, trying not to be hurt,
reminding himself that this was not a pairing of Jael's

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choosing. He still could not understand why the bond that
sang so readily to him continued to elude his ki'ita.

Jael blinked over at him, eyebrows lowering. “This is not a

mess. This is my tent, our tent.”

“Not a mess? There are things piled here and there, sand

and dirt everywhere—your clothes need to be washed, as do
many of my own. The furs need airing.” He twittered and
shook his head. “It needs cleaning and I have said I will do
it.”

Jael gave him an incredulous look and shook his head,

muttering softly. Then without a word, he grabbed up a few
of the finer furs and his stack of tortoise shells. “I will trade
for a larger tent, so you may have room. I will send a woman
with your meal and honey and the day's milk.”

“A larger tent will be most appreciated, Jael. But surely it

will not take you long to trade for it—will you not have
morning meal with me?”

“I will, if the wind allows it.” Jael backed out the tent, eyes

quiet, unhappy. “I must speak to the hunters. If you are to be
warm and fed this winter, I must hunt and provide.”

Quan caught a glimpse of the woman Jael pined for,

standing outside their tent, eyes triumphant even before Jael
saw her and paled. The pain in his stomach returned full
force, and he nodded quickly at Jael, returning to his cleaning
with sharp, economical movements. He blinked furiously,
refusing to let the tears fall. Jael was his and one day the
hunter would not only believe so as well, but would take joy
in their bond.

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He had stacked all the clothing to one side when the tent

flap shifted again. “I brought meal and milk and berries,
Quan. Grandmother found me and agreed to barter for the
tent in my stead.”

Jael's hands were filled with bowls and a pitcher. A

handprint glowed bright red upon his cheek.

His own misery faded at the sight and he slid gentle

fingertips over his hunter's cheeks. “Someone hurt you,” he
said softly, having a fairly good idea who the handprint
belonged to.

“It will fade with the moon.” Jael blushed, juggling the

bowls. “Have you thought were the new tent should go?”

“It is your tribe, Jael—you would know the best place for it

to go. I can feel the water in the ground no matter where we
go.” He slid his fingers along the handprint one last time,
making a soft, clicking noise. His ki'ita should not be treated
so. Then he took one of the bowls and sat on the edge of one
of the furs.

Jael settled beside him, offering him the milk. “Well, it is

quieter on the edges, more company closer in at the hearth
and my family lives on the east of the village.”

Quan noted that Jael's tent faced west. “Well, I would

prefer a quieter spot, my Hunter, but the decision is not mine
alone.”

He added a measure of milk to his bowl and then

unwrapped his utensils and began to eat, saving the berries in
the bowl of meal for the end. Jael took an odd flattened piece
of bark and began eating in the quick, almost furious pace
that he had. It was neat and silent, but Quan wondered if Jael

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tasted so much as a bite. He slid his hand over his ki'ita's,
interrupting the rapid flow of hand to mouth. “I will not steal
your food, my Hunter, in fact I will gladly share what is in my
bowl if you are still hungry.”

Jael's cheeks blazed again, green eyes meeting his. There

was a dark ring around the outside, the soil surrounding the
leaves. “I do not believe you would, Quan. I just...” He
shrugged. “I have many brothers. You will see.”

He nodded. “I did not believe that you thought that, Jael—

I just wanted to remind you that while you are not with your
brothers you may take joy in your food, instead of just
sustenance.”

“What foods do you like, Quan? What are your joys,

besides the water and soft furs?” Jael dropped his eyes, long
lashes casting shadows on his high cheekbones.

“Berries,” Quan told him, lifting his bowl. “And things that

have a lot of flavour—either sweet or spicy. There is a grass
that grows like a weed near the tall trees. Dried, it makes
even the most unpalatable meal edible when sprinkled on
top.”

Jael grinned, nodding. “The jerab stems. Tiny white flowers

that bloom just as the snow fades, yes? The grass is both
light and dark? I put it on the mid-harvest stew that is served
at the Gathering.” Jael wrinkled his nose. “It is very foul, but
not as foul as the cooks if you do not eat.”

“That's the one!” He looked at Jael and offered his own

tentative grin. “I'm sure your method of pushing in food
quickly works well with such meals. And why has no one

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complained of the taste and insisted the cooks make
improvements?”

His hunter, his ki'ita shrugged. “It is the way of things.

Perhaps the cooks are honoring some ancestor. Perhaps it is a
test of our strength.” Then he got another grin, this one wide
and open. “Perhaps it is a delicacy that mere hunters cannot
enjoy.”

He laughed, but at the same time pet Jael's hand. “You are

as fine a man as any in this tribe, Jael. Perhaps finer.”

No one would make his ki'ita feel second best, not while he

was there.

“I am a fine hunter.” Jael met his eyes. “You will want for

nothing.”

“Of course I won't,” he said softly. “I have you, everything

else is just details.”

Oh, that slow blush made him smile, Jael really was such a

sweet man.

“I... I don't know what to do, Quan. I have never lived

with another before, never sworn to provide for another.” Jael
gave him another shrug. “We are strangers, and we are ki'ita.
I do not understand what the wind expects from me.”

He reached out and stroked one of Jael's cheeks. “We shall

learn one another, Jael and learn together what the wind
wants of us.”

Jael nodded, cheek hot beneath his touch. Then those

green eyes widened and Jael shivered, moving away. “I will
return the dishes, scout out a quiet place for our tent. The
Elders will welcome your company always.”

The flush covered Jael's belly, his chest.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

He offered his hunter a smile. “I will take our things to the

river and wash them, so that they may come to our new tent
clean and ready for our life together.

His hunter nodded, smiling back. “Yes. You... you can find

the river?”

He grinned. “Oh yes. I could make a river right through

the tribe, but the one that exists to the south will suffice.”

That earned him a full-fledged laugh, Jael's eyes lighting

up.

Oh. He had to work to keep his expression the same, to

not tackle Jael where he stood and take kisses that his ki'ita
was not yet willing to give. So lovely, his Hunter with his
bright green eyes.

“I may remind you of that river, Quan, when the

drummers are too loud and the warriors too proud.” Jael
winked at him, laughter still interrupting the words as his
hunter opened the tent flap.

“And I may thank you for it,” Quan called back, still smiling

as the tent flaps closed, settling softly.

All in all, he thought as he began to gather their clothing

and the furs, not a bad start—things could certainly have
gone worse.

* * * *

Setting up their new home was stalled by an invitation to

take a meal with Jael's family. Quan put on his second best
outfit—his first best was dirty from the ceremony as he'd not
yet had a chance to wash it. He tsked and fussed, working his
hair into a braid and then into its bun, everything neat and
tidy and tucked away.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Jael was fetching him a bucket of water and then he would

wash his face and hands and they could go. He heard Jael's
laughter and looked out. There was a young boy perched on
Jael's shoulder, dirty feet tapping Jael's bare chest, the green
mark of their bond seeming to glow in the fading sunlight.

“Yassa? I found your boy at the water and brought him

home to you.” A dark haired woman laughed and reached up
to take the child, thanking Jael easily.

He went back in and took out another cloth—Jael would

need to wash as well before they left.

“Quan, I brought your water.” The bucket was placed

beside the tent. “There is a fine feast planned in Dilat's tent
tonight. My brother's wives have been busy.”

“Thank you, Jael. Do you think they will like me?” He

poured the water out into three bowls, putting one aside to do
a final rinse with and then handed one and a cloth to Jael,
using a second cloth and the second bowl to begin to clean
his hands, neck and face.

“Of course. You are ba'chi and our family now.” Jael took

the bowl and found a handful of slimy grey soap, adding it
and making suds.

Quan shuddered. “You can use my soap, Jael.”
Jael shrugged. “Yours is precious to you. I would not waste

it. My gran says perhaps one of the women can learn to make
your soapwood.”

“I would share it with you though, Jael. You are my ki'ita,

after all.” He smiled shyly up at Jael.

Jael blushed and those green eyes met his as he was given

a nod. “As the winds will it.” He smiled brightly at Jael,

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

passing his soap over. Jael took it awkwardly, rubbing it on
the cloth and bringing it close to sniff. “It smells like you.”

“I hope that isn't a bad thing?”
“No. It is simply the truth.” Jael inhaled again and began

washing, the motions rough and quick, but thorough.

He continued his own cleaning, carefully washing his skin

and then moving to the third bowl and rising again with the
clear water before passing the bowl to Jael. “Would you like
to rinse?”

Jael nodded and stepped into the grass, tipping the bowl

over his head and letting it pour down, turning the gold hair
dark. Quan felt his belly tighten: his ki'ita was very
handsome. If only Jael wasn't so... stubborn about this whole
thing. Still, it had been only two days, only a single night
since their bond was announced. Jael would learn to need
him.

He dried off and then went to Jael and, instead of offering

the towel over, began to dry Jael himself, just patting gently
with the cloth. Green eyes watched him, curious, the scarred
cheeks flushed dark. He reached up, finger's stroking over the
white marks on Jael's cheeks. “I've noticed many scars like
this among the tribe. What do they mean?”

“They are the marks of a hunter, of one whose father is a

warrior. The deeper marks, the ones with heavy lines? Those
are for warriors, for Guardians.” Jael's eyes met his. “I have
never heard of one who is only a hunter being called to be a
hi'icha.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

“Then you are the first.” He smiled up and stroked the

scarred cheeks again. Jael ducked his head, gold braids
sliding against him.

“A'chaffa! See how quickly the hunter succumbs. All those

protestations of love and here you are, basking in his touch.”
The voice of the woman Jael had wooed was sharp, bitter.

He stiffened, fingers continuing to stroke Jael's cheeks. He

would not let her interfere.

Jael's eyes were suddenly sad and the smile he received

was edged with bitterness. “She would not have me, not in all
the times I asked. Now she only wishes me because I have
been given to you.”

“Is it not better then that you are with the one who wants

you?”

He received a quick grin, those green eyes twinkling for a

moment. “The Elders say those who bend their wills to the
winds are most blessed.”

Oh, Jael was lovely when he was happy. “Your Elders

sound like they're very smart.”

He put a hand to his bun, making sure his hair was still

neat.

“Kaen says they simply know how to get the rest of us to

do their will.” Jael winked and stepped back. “Let me find my
vest and we will visit my family's tents.”

“I am ready.” And he was. Clean, dressed, hair neat, he

was ready to meet Jael's family. Jael's nodded, moving into
the tent, giving him a long look at the muscled, firm back.
Very nice indeed. He sighed and adjusted his pants, willing

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

his need to abate. Jael would not thank him if he were
aroused when they went to his family's tent.

It only took Jael a moment to return, leather vest wrapped

around the broad chest, a sealed jug in one hand. At his
questioning look, Jael grinned. “Berry wine. Our contribution
to the feast.”

“Oh. If I'd known we were to bring something, I could

have made some sweet bread.” He looked around with a
frown. “Well, perhaps it will be easier once we are properly
settled and everything is just so.”

“We'll have it the way you like it, Quan. What sort of place

did you live at before you came here?”

“Oh, I've lived in all sorts of places.” He fell into step with

Jael. “The nicest were buildings made of wood. So easy to
keep clean.” He sighed in happy remembrance.

“Wood? Like the Gathering Lodges?”
“Yes, but the floors also were wood. Dirt floors are so...

dirty.” He smoothed down the front of his overdress. He didn't
like dirt.

Jael chuckled softly, shook his head. “Dirt is that way.

Dirty.”

“Yes, and it's everywhere,” he noted primly.
“Even in the river.”
“Perhaps—but the river has water.”
“Mud has water, Quan.” Jael looked over at him, the tease

obvious, but gentle, not malicious.

“Very well then, it is the proportion of water to dirt that

makes the difference.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Jael's laughter felt good, the gold hair thrown back. “I will

have to keep that in mind.”

He smiled happily. “I will be sure to let you know

whenever something fails to meet the proper specifications.”

Jael touched his arm, turning him towards a most densely

inhabited part of the village. “Somehow I don't doubt that,
Quan. All of the tents with the green stripes belong to my
kin.”

“By the great rivers! There are so many!” He'd known

Jael's family was large, but he hadn't realised just how large.
Perhaps a full quarter of the tribe.

“We are a fertile people, Quan. I am the seventh son of a

Herd Chief.”

He nodded but kept his comment that it would matter little

to the tribe then if Jael did not produce offspring to himself.
He did, however, voice his worries over how many people
would be present at the feast. “Will all of your kin be at this
feast, Jael?”

“Kaen and his ki'ita will not, but my other brothers will.

Their wives, their children. My mother's parents. My father,
his father. Perhaps an uncle or aunt. Not all.”

“Oh, I would have liked to have met your brother with his

ba'chi, but at the same time I'm happy not to have to meet
all of them at once.”

“Kaen and Mut live a half day's ride from here. It would be

good to see them. Kaen is my oldest brother and my best
friend under all the winds.”

“It's too bad they live so far away.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

“One day we could travel there. Visit them. There is a

valley on the way, great pools of cool water.” Jael's words
trailed off as a group of children barrelled toward them. He
stepped closer to Jael, almost hiding behind his ki'ita. In his
experience children were very dirty. “My family.” Jael's arms
opened up and he gathered them in, giving kisses and hugs,
tickling and chuckling.

So sweet and gentle with them, loving. He wondered if

that easy acceptance would ever be directed at himself. There
were a dozen of them, clinging and touching and laughing,
grubby hands digging in his ki'ita's pockets for treats. He
stayed well back, happy not to be in the midst of all those
dirty little hands and faces. Jael was going to need to wash
again when they returned home.

Jael, looked happy though, at ease with his hands full and

little ones tugging at his vest. “Come, this is Quan. He is our
family now. Surely one of you can show him to the feast?”

About four little ones hurtled towards him, reaching. “We

can!”

Oh. Oh dear. He took a deep breath and resolved not to let

it bother him. Jael could bring enough water that they both
could wash when they returned home. He held out his hand,
holding back his wince as grimy hands grabbed his. Brown
eyes watched him, little voices jabbering as they walked
towards a circle of tents, people milling everywhere. They
were rather... sweet, even if they were collectively more dirty
than a band of forest hogs.

Hali came up, her soft hand replacing the children's. “Ah,

Jael, Quan. Di'ben nor. The meal is almost ready.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Jael nodded, heading over to hand his father the jug of

wine, leaving him with Hali.

“Di'ben nor, Hali. Hali. I didn't realise Jael's family was so

large.”

“Huge. You will never be alone here.” Quan knew she

meant it as a comfort, but somehow the words were not.

“I met Jael's father at the ceremony and his brothers are

as alike as wheat grass. But I don't know any of the others.”

Hali chuckled and patted. “The women will not see Jael at

all. The children adore him. He is the baby here.”

Quan shook his head. “He is no baby, Hali. He is hi'icha.”
“You know that, Quan, but to the others? He is a child, the

little brother.”

“They will learn. My ki'ita is a great man.” He watched

Jael, pride making him stand taller, a smile on his face.

Hali led him to a circle of older people, “G'ron, Kasen? This

is Quan. Jael's ki'ita.”

The old men looked up, blinked. “Jael? Little Jael? No, Hali.

Jael is a boy.”

“No, he is a man, I assure you. A great hi'icha.” Poor Jael,

no wonder the man believed he was little more than a hunter.
Hali chuckled as they sat, the men and boys beginning to play
some complicated game with a leather ball, pushing and
laughing and shoving.

“Very... rambunctious, aren't they.” And loud. And very

very many of them. He had been travelling on his own for so
long. And before that it had been just him and his father.
Even though she didn't live with them, the stigma of his
mother's madness had painted them.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

“Ah, better to have them expend their energy than to fight

and bicker amongst themselves.” Kasen, Hali's mate and
Jael's grandfather grinned. “How do you find our village,
ba'chi? Are you settled?”

“We will be soon. The tribe is... large. Very large.”
“Yes, but you will be well provided for.” Jael's father stood

near, smiling down at him. “Jael is a fine hunter, a provider.”

“I have no doubt that I will want for nothing. He is a good

man.” He would stand up for Jael, his ki'ita.

“He is.” Jael's father nodded. “He is much like his mother,

the only of my sons that came that way from the winds.”

“Yes, I can tell he is special.” Oh dear. He hoped Jael's

father would not take that as an insult. “I meant...”

Hali chuckled, patting his thigh. “You should believe your

One special, yes? Most blessed among men.”

The women began bringing out food, huge plates heaped

with meat and vegetables and grains. He looked for Jael,
hoping his ki'ita would choose to sit with him for their meal.
Jael came, bearing two plates piled with food. “One for Quan
and one for Hali, before none remains.”

Hali patted his cheek, “Such a good boy.”
“Thank you, Jael. This is for you and me, is it not?” There

was more food on the plate than he would eat in a day.

Jael looked at the plate, then at the crush of people around

the food. “If you would not mind sharing...”

“Not at all.” He shifted over eagerly, not sure if he would

be able to eat much at all, but certain it would be more if Jael
sat next to him.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Hali chuckled softly and then the clan began eating,

devouring everything like a mass of locusts. Only Jael seemed
to have patience, sense, and still Quan wasn't sure Jael tasted
a thing. He himself ate more slowly, using his prong and
small knife. He concentrated on eating neatly, ignoring the
others. The whole family together was overwhelming, loud
and laughing, teases passed easily among them. He was very
glad of Jael's presence beside him, strong and good, calming.
Jael spoke little, relaxed and quiet beside him, speaking with
his grandparents. The strong, scarred face was beautiful in
the firelight.

Full, warm, surprisingly happy, Quan found himself half-

asleep, leaning against his new ki'ita. At some point, he found
himself moving through the darkness, held in Jael's arms,
carried toward the little tent. He wrapped his arms around
Jael's neck. “Oh. I'm sorry, Jael—I didn't mean to take you
away from your family.”

“Hmm?” Jael's steps stuttered. “No, Quan. It is late. You

simply slept.”

“Oh.” He blushed, burying his face in Jael's chest. “Your

family must think I'm very rude.”

Jael laughed. “My family? Oh, Quan. No. No one thinks you

are rude.”

“Oh, alright.” He relaxed back against Jael's chest, his

ki'ita so strong. Jael's braids slid against his skin, soft and
heated, the male scent heady.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Chapter 5

He hauled another bucket of water up from the river,

steadfastly ignoring the looks and comments and laughter.
Soon Quan would be finished cleaning, would be settled.
Would stop needing bucket after bucket of water.

“I heard your ki'ita could call the water.” Naki's voice

dripped venom. “I did not know that meant he sent you again
and again like a child fetching for his mother.”

Jael felt his damned cheeks heat, ducked his head, and

forced himself to be polite. “Di'ben sur, Naki.”

Delicate, soft fingers traced his cheek. “I have always

enjoyed that blush. Tell me, Jael, will you still bring me
lover's tokens? Will you grace my furs?”

Jael felt his stomach churn, eyes closing. “Quan awaits

me.”

He turned and hurried away, hearing her laughter added to

the chuckles of the warriors, head bowed low.

He nearly ran into Quan as he neared their new tent, his

ki'ita's fingers wrapping around his arm, steadying him. “I
was wondering where you'd gotten to.”

The rebuke stung, the words close to what his mother

would have said to him as a boy. “I was bringing water as you
asked.”

“Thank you,” Quan answered curtly, pointing him to the

side of the tent. “There's a small tub with hot water in it, add
that to it and clean yourself and then I have latemeal ready.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

“I bathed last night, Quan. I do not need another so soon.”

He firmed his lips, handing Quan the bucket. This was quite
out of hand, bathing every day.

“But I have just cleaned our home and you are all sweaty

and dusty. Come now, Jael—I do not ask you to bathe three
times a day as I do, the least you can do is indulge me once a
day.”

“I have indulged you many times today, Quan. Now I am

hungry and weary and simply wish to be home.” He could feel
the weight of dozens of pairs of eyes upon him—Naki's and
his brothers’ and his grandmother and the warriors'.

“I have a lovely meal for you and then we can lie together

in our furs, Jael.” Quan leaned close, water-coloured eyes
looking so seriously into his own. “Just a couple of moments
with the water and a piece of soap, Jael. It will not take long.”

His stomach churned again, the need to provide for and

ease Quan warring with his pride. His sense of duty won out
and Jael nodded and began to move towards the tub when
the laughter started again, harsh and biting. He lifted his
chin. “I must see to Sernes and ready for the hunt. We will
have need of many furs for trading.”

“What?” Quan's face grew red and pinched as the laughter

turned on him and he was given a prim nod. “Very well.”

With that his ki'ita returned to their tent, back straight and

stiff.

He stood for a moment and then headed for the paddocks.

Perhaps he should leave tonight, set his traps and find a good
spot to camp. A quiet place where he could do what he was
truly meant to do.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Provide for the tribe.

* * * *

With Jael gone, his sleep had been fitful at best and the

dawn found him madly scrubbing down the inside walls of
their tent, the touch of the water and the act of cleaning the
only thing that made the pain inside him bearable. He had
forgotten what it was like, the last few days it had dulled so
much, not disappeared, but eased in a way he'd only
dreamed of. Now the pain was back and his ki'ita had run
away, gone to hunt rather than be with him. He'd watched
through a slit at the tent flaps the evening before, heard the
laughter of the women and the warriors. They found him and
his habits amusing. And Jael did not stand with him.

It hurt. Perhaps more than the pain inside him that the

magic left.

He cleaned and scrubbed until he saw the smoke rise at

the top of Hali's tent and then changed into a clean set of
clothes and went to pay his respects to the healer. And,
perhaps, to see what insight she might have into the stubborn
workings of his ki'ita's mind.

Hali was sitting in the doorway of her tent, laboriously

grinding herbs into a powder. When his shadow fell upon her,
she lifted her face and smiled. “Di'ben sur, Quan. Winds
bless. Have you come to visit this old woman and save her
from grinding?”

“Di'ben sur, honoured One.” He smiled back and sat next

to her. “I have come for counsel from the mother of my
ki'ita's mother.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

“Ah.” Her smile was open, honest, wrinkled face

comforting and pleasant. “Has my grandson been difficult? I
heard he was on the hunt.”

He sighed, allowed his sadness to show through. “I think I

drove him away.”

“You knew it would not be a simple thing. He is young,

frightened and his life has been turned around.” Hali reached
over, patted his hand. “What happened that sent him to the
hunt?”

“The tribe laughs at him, honoured One. At both of us. I

am afraid they do not understand my ways and find them
frivolous. I imagine Jael does, too,” he added softly.

“The tribe expects Jael to be who he always has been—a

young, quiet hunter who makes no waves, makes no sounds.
Now, your ki'ita is hi'icha, is something more, someone with
status.” She sighed. “Do not forget how young he is, ba'chi,
how frightened he must be.”

“I am not so frightening as all that, am I, Hali?”
He was surprised by a full, hearty laugh. “Jael has

eighteen winters, Quan. His dreams have been to mate with
Naki and have dozens of sons, to hunt always. Now his soul is
called to you—an experienced man, a ba'chi. His mind and
body are going two ways.”

Quan nodded and sighed. “I have been selfish, thinking

only of my own joy at finally finding the bond I have searched
so long for. It feels so good to be with him, but it hurts that
he does not also feel it.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

“But he has not gone to Naki for succour, Quan, or Aklan,

or me.” Green eyes twinkled at him. “He shares your furs,
yes? Responds to your touch?”

He blushed. “Yes, Hali, though he admits it not.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “Then perhaps, when

your ki'ita returns, you should take him for a long walk, take
him away from all the eyes upon him, and let him know that
you desire him, that you wait his touch.” She arched an
eyebrow. “He does know you desire him?”

“Of course he does!” He frowned and looked into the fire.

“Well... I have tried not to embarrass him with my needs. He
made it very clear he was uncomfortable with the idea of us...
touching in that way and so I have tried not to push.” He
looked back into her eyes and whispered. “I have been afraid
that were I to kiss him he would run away for more than just
a hunt.”

Hali smiled, eyes kind. “Quan, you are Jael's ki'ita. He will

not leave you for long. The bond will call and, once he
understands, once he feels, you will be...” She shrugged.
“There is nothing so right, nothing so good.”

He nodded. “Already I can feel that, Hali. He eases me,

makes things right.” He blushed just a little. “I can only
imagine what it will be like when he has accepted the bond.”

“And he cannot even imagine. He does not know what to

want, Quan.” She closed her eyes for a moment, lips pursed
as she thought. “Would you like me to send him to the far
side of the green mountain to visit Kaen? He has been hi'icha
for many seasons.”

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by Sean Michael

“I would hate to resort to that so soon, honoured One. I

will take your advice and get him to take me with him on his
next hunt. Then I will show him how much I want him—try a
hand at seduction as you once suggested.”

She nodded. “I believe Kaen is due for the next Gathering

during the harvest. If things are not settled by then, I will
have my eldest and youngest grandsons speak.”

She reached out again, patted his hand. “Come, Quan.

Help an old woman make her teas and tell me of your life.
Now that we are family, your songs will be sung with ours and
we must learn your tune.”

“You honour me, Hali. I hope I will do the same for your

family. Myself and Jael of course.”

“As it should be.” Then she handed him a grinding stone

and they set to work together, grinding herbs as he told his
story.

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

Chapter 6

Four young bucks, a full string of salted fish, and, best of

all, a taro skinned and meat wrapped and towed behind
Sernes—Jael would normally have been beaming and
bouncing, pride pouring from him. Of course, this time was
different. This time he had responsibilities and a ki'ita to
provide for. This time there would be no gifts and happy
squeals and Naki's children looking for the shells and stones
and tiny whittled animals that filled his pockets.

“Jael! Jael's home! What did you bring us! What did you

find?” Suddenly a dozen children swarmed, bright eyes and
curls and open hands greeting him and making him smile. Or
perhaps, not all things were turned on end. His bent down,
passing out trinkets and baubles and receiving sloppy kisses
and sticky fingered hugs in return.

“Oh!” There was a gasp and then the children made a

path, Quan not quite running to his side. “Oh, Jael, I did not
realise you would be gone so long.” Slender fingers settled on
his shoulders, Quan leaning on his strength. “It is good to see
you again, ki'ita.”

He blinked, warmth filling him. He had expected

unhappiness, anger. He had not expected to feel... good and
happy to see Quan.

“Yes.” He smiled, nodded. “It is good to be with you, to be

home.” Jael pointed to his haul, “The hunt was good. The
Winds blessed us.”

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by Sean Michael

“Wonderful. And I have a surprise for you, too,” Quan told

him quietly. He noticed that the children were careful not to
touch the ba'chi with their sticky fingers.

“Oh?” He smiled again, making sure to keep his own hands

away from Quan. He was filthy—dusty and sweating. “I will
deliver the meat and put Sernes to pasture and then find the
river.” He showed his hands. “I have need of a long washing
and cannot draw the water to me.”

Quan all but bounced beside him, face made young and

handsome by the smile he turned up to Jael. “That is my
surprise, my Hunter—you will no longer need to fetch me
water.” A faint blush covered the fine cheeks. “I have to
apologize—it was not until I had fetched one bucket myself
that I realised how much work it was. We now have a well
beside our tent.”

“A well? Quan! Really? I must see this for my own eyes!”

He chuckled and hurried Sernes along, dropping the meat and
fish off, saving a fine roast and the furs to give to Quan.

“The tub is still there, too. I hope you will agree to use it

today, before coming into our home.”

He felt his shoulders tighten, smile disappearing. Jael lead

Sernes towards the paddock for a few days rest. If it were not
for her, he would head out again, but the mi'it deserved a day
or two among her own kind. “I am not an animal, Quan. I
would not foul my own bed.”

Quan sighed. “I did not say that you would, Jael.”
No, but you thought I might, didn't you, Peacock? Jael

pulled Sernes’ tack off, rubbing her down quickly and letting
her go. He hefted the saddle and his packs, grabbing the furs

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

and the roast. “Show me your well, Quan. I would like to see
it.”

Quan nodded and led the way. “I put the tub between it

and the tent. I was thinking, actually, that you could fashion
some sort of half tent for it? Give us some privacy when we
bathe? The water makes me feel good, and I am wont to sit
in it for quite awhile, but I admit, it feels strange to have
everyone watching.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Something like a

lean-to? Open to the main tent? I can build that.”

Quan nodded, smiling brightly at him. “Oh, yes, exactly! I

knew you would understand what I wanted.”

Jael shared a small smile with the ba'chi. “I will build it for

you tomorrow. It should not take long. How has the Tribe
fared during the hunt?”

He nodded and greeted his family and friends as they

passed through, offering each child a trinket or stone, and
receiving a sweet kiss or a hug for his trouble.

“They have taken much amusement from my antics, I

fear.” Quan walked primly at his side, not shooing the
children, but not encouraging them to linger either.

“You are new here. They will accept you, given time.”

Hassi bounced up, almost too old for innocent kisses and
tokens, and gave Quan a shy, blushing look, hiding her face
behind her hair. “And it seems some have accepted you
already, yes?”

Quan also blushed, but smiled at the young girl. “Your

grandmother was kind enough to suggest that Hassi would

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

make a good guide. She has saved me from getting lost on
several occasions.”

Jael arched an eyebrow. Oh. It had never occurred to him

that maybe Quan would... But Hassi was so young... He
shook his head, stomach tight. “Well, Hassi, I thank you for
spending your days with Quan. Has he been a good
companion?” Or has he nagged you into the bath constantly
without allowing you into your own Tent?

“He's very nice,” she giggled. “He talks about you all the

time though.” She gave a little bow and took off, going to
herd the younger children off to a game. Beside him, his ki'ita
was blushing quite hard.

He looked over at Quan, blinking. Oh. He didn't know why

that should please him so, but it did. Very much. Quan
glanced up at him from beneath his lashes, blush growing
deeper, a small smile on his ki'ita's lips. “She might have
been exaggerating somewhat.”

“Of course.” He blushed himself, shaking his head at his

own silliness. “She is a fine girl, but young and she has a very
large father, Quan. If you seek to share her furs, take care
that I am not defending you against the entire tribe.”

Quan gasped, mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Jael!

Share her furs? Why, I'm older than her father. I never... Oh!
Never!”

Jael blinked at Quan. “Surely you see that she's interested

in you... And there's little question why, after all. No matter
your age, you are a fine-looking man.”

Quan preened a little, hands sliding over his robe,

smoothing imaginary lines. “Thank you, Jael.”

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“You're welcome, Peacock, but I only state the truth.” Jael

grinned, dropping his load outside the tent flap. “Show me
your well.”

One of Quan's eyebrows rose. “Peacock?”
He nodded, swallowing his chuckles. “You know, the bird

with the lovely tail—so many colours, so fine, so bright...”
Jael swallowed, suddenly realizing what he'd said. “Oh... Uh...
the well?”

Quan smiled widely at him and showed him the waterhole

not eight full steps away from their tent. It was about two
feet across, the water looking clear, inviting. “It is fed by an
underwater spring.” Quan cupped his hands and held them up
to Jael. “Try it.”

He held Quan's hands in his own, bending his head forward

to drink the sweet water, hair falling down to curtain his face.
A fine tremor moved the hands in his, Quan making a soft
noise. He lifted his head, licking the remaining water from his
lips. “Are you well, Quan? The water is sweet, good.”

“I am fine, Jael.” Quan pushed his hair back over his

shoulder, offering him a warm smile. “Happy to have my ki'ita
home again.”

“It is good to be home, Quan.” He looked over at the tub

and began to add water, talking easily with his ki'ita about his
grandmother, the antics of his brothers, the preparations for
the harvest.

When the tub was partially filled, Jael stripped off his vest

and leggings, fingers brushing against the round bead in his
pouch. He pulled it out offering it shyly. “Oh, I found this
stone for you, Quan. It is the colour of your eyes.”

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“Oh.” Quan took it, fingers sliding against his own. “It is

beautiful. Did it really remind you of my eyes?”

Jael nodded. “It did. I was swimming in my... I was

swimming and found it and thought of you.”

He turned to step into the tub, cheeks flaming. The pond

was his secret place where he could rest and swim, sleep and
play and be. He had told no one—not Kaen or Mother or even
Naki.

“Oh.” The sound was soft and breathless and when he

glanced over at Quan, his ki'ita's cheeks were flushed, a soft
look in the strange water coloured eyes.

He offered a smile, sure his entire body was blushing, and

began to wash, dunking his head in first to wet his heavy
hair, coming up with a happy sigh. “The water feels good,
Quan.”

“I have always thought so, Jael.” Quan stepped close and

showed the soap in his hand. “Would you like me to wash
your back for you?”

“My back? I... okay...” Jael shivered, lowering into the

water, lifting his hair slowly. No one had ever asked that
before, but Quan was a ba'chi, with ways different than his
own.

Quan's hands joined his in moving his hair, sliding it

around his shoulders so that it hung in front. “Such a solid,
broad back, my Hunter. You can carry much.”

Quan's hands were warm and slippery as they slid over his

skin, rubbing in slow, almost hypnotic circles. His eyes closed,
head falling forward. His muscles relaxed and he slumped into

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the water. “Yes. I do not hunt with the group, so I must...”
He moaned as Quan's fingers found a knotted muscle.

“Perhaps next time you hunt you will take me with you,”

suggested Quan as his ki'ita's fingers slowly worked out the
knot.

“It is a dirty business, hunting, and you have just settled

here.” Jael was not opposed to taking Quan, although he
couldn't understand why the ba'chi would want to go.

“It is hard here, when you are not with me. There are

rivers where you hunt, are there not?” Quan's hands followed
his spine, sliding slowly all the way down his back.

He gasped, body stiffening at the touch. He moved lower

in the water, hands covering his groin. Stupid body, traitorous
body. “Yes. Yes, there are.”

Quan's hands slid down further, moving over his buttocks,

almost casually circling them. “So there is no reason I cannot
bathe in these rivers, my Hunter. I think it would be nice. A
time to get to know one another better without being under
the scrutiny of the tribe. The day we had together when we
first met was quite lovely.”

“Oh!” He jerked, breathing hard. “I... I believe I am clean,

Quan.” His voice sounded hoarse, rough. Odd.

“Are you all right, Jael?” Quan's hands slid around to his

chest. “You're heart is going so fast.”

He was going to die. He was really, really going to die. “I...

I am t...tired, Quan. I have been away for many days.”

He was really hard, aching. He needed a few minutes and

his hand. Needed.

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“Yes, my Hunter—I noticed your absence keenly. Let me

help you—our furs await.”

“I... I...” He turned, looking over at Quan with panic. “I will

be in soon. Soon. Very soon.”

Worry and a hint of hurt played out in his ki'ita's face.

“Jael? What is wrong?”

“I have...” He motioned toward the water, cheeks flaring.

“I have a need, Quan. I will be inside in a moment.”

“Oh.” The hurt won. “I am your ki'ita, Jael. It would bring

me great pleasure to help you with your need.”

Jael's breath caught, eyes focusing on the water. He

caused his ki'ita hurt. He had sworn not to, and yet he did. He
was never going to be able to stay home again.

“I... I don't...” He lifted his chin. “I mean you no hurt, but

I have never wanted a man to bless the Winds with me. I do
not know...” He shrugged, body tight and sore all through
from the sudden tension. “Perhaps the Winds made a
mistake, Quan. Surely your ki'ita would make you happy
inside, would make you smile.”

Quan stroked gentle fingers along his cheek. “I can feel

your song inside me, Jael. There is no mistake.”

With that his ki'ita leaned forward and pressed their lips

firmly together and then Quan was gone, disappearing inside
their tent. Jael blinked, hands brushing over his lips, feeling
the tingling, the heat.

His mother had told him once to beware what he wished

for, for the Winds might grant it.

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Chapter 7

Quan was once again riding behind Jael.
The atmosphere back amongst the tribe had grown more

and more tense. Jael had done nothing wrong, nor had he,
but without the bond fully open and binding them, Quan still
felt very precarious in his place amongst the others. Naki had
somehow sensed that things were perhaps not as they should
be and she seemed to delight in throwing little barbs at Quan
and needling Jael. Quan had grown more and more fussy,
more demanding, insisting that Jael help him clean and wash
and finally Jael said he was going on another hunt.

Quan had insisted he was going as well. Despite Jael's

refusal, he packed his bag and went to stand next to Sernes.
“I will ride behind you as I do not trust the beasts enough to
have one of my own.”

Naki had been there, gloating and just waiting to strike the

moment Jael refused. Mush to his relief, Jael had not. And so
they rode for an entire day. Quan took full advantage of the
situation, sinking against Jael, moving against his body as
they moved with the horse, hands wrapped tightly around his
ki'ita. Jael seemed disinclined to complain. The sun was going
down before they began to slow.

“I would like to camp near the river that is running about a

mile to the west of us, please.” Much as being so close to his
ki'ita soothed him, the truth was that they were both very
horsy and he could not possibly sleep if they remained so.

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Jael shook his head. “No, Quan. The rains are coming and

there is no shelter there.” As he tensed, Jael sighed. “Please,
Quan. Trust me. I will not ask you to rest without bathing.”
He took a deep breath and nodded, putting his trust in this
man who could make him feel better even than the water, but
there was a knot in his belly, pain and worry tying him up.
They traveled up into the hills, stopping at the mouth of a
huge cave. Jael slid down, reaching up for him with curious
look. “Can you feel it?”

“Oh, yes, Jael—I can!” The water was clean and pure and

pulling at him. An underground source bubbling to the surface
within the cave, even so far away it felt good.

Jael gave him a bright, almost excited smile—the first easy

one he'd received in days. “This is a good spot, the water is
warm and deep and the cave sings.”

“Sings? How so?” He slid down into Jael's arms, resting

against the solid body.

“I think it is the water hitting the crystals along the walls.

Come and see. Sernes knows to stay here. It will be warm
and dry inside and we can swim.” Jael looked down at him. “If
you insist on coming to hunt, you should see the places I like
to take my rest, yes?”

He raised a hand and slid it along Jael's cheek. “I am

honored that you bring me here, my Hunter. And I only insist
on coming to hunt because I want to be with you.”

Jael's cheek heated, by he did not move away from the

touch. “It is good to be away from all the eyes and ill-tempers
and wasps buzzing about. I cannot hear my own heart with so
much trouble.”

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He nodded and offered Jael a smile, hand slipping away as

a far off roll of thunder warned of the coming storm.

Jael grabbed their packs and lit a torch, heading down a

dark tunnel toward the song of the water. At first the sound
was only in his mind, then became audible, Jael leading him
into a huge cavern with a beautiful, crystal-clear pool. “See?
Water and warmth and no rain.”

“Oh!” He moved to the center of the cavern, turning in

slow circles, feeling and hearing the way his movement
changed the song. Without even bothering to remove his
clothes, he gave in to the lure of the water, laughing as he
slid into it. He could hear Jael's chuckle, barely noticed the
leathers being removed and tucked away after a tiny fire was
started and furs spread. When Jael's body slid into the water
with him, though, that he noticed. He swam close, treading
water and smiling. “Oh, thank you, Jael!”

“You are most welcome.” Jael gave him another easy smile

and then relaxed back into the water, floating gently.

He chuckled as he pulled down his hair, removing the bun

and braid. Then he tried to take his clothes off. It was hard
going with them wet. “I should have been patient.”

Jael chuckled. “All of those layers sticking together,

Peacock?”

His cheeks heated. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or

insulted by the name, though Jael had called the bird
beautiful... “Will you give me a hand?”

“I will.” Jael straightened up, helping him slide out of his

layers, feel the water against his skin. “There you are.
Better.”

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“Oh... oh, it feels so good.” He could feel the water

everywhere, it glided along his skin like the softest furs
imaginable. Jael mumbled an affirmative, fingers slowly
working through the long hair as the hunter relaxed, the
water offering Quan teasing glimpses of Jael's body. He
floated and watched his ki'ita, thinking the only thing that
could have possibly made this moment any better would have
been if he and Jael were making love in the water.

Jael finally stood, swimming to stand near the edge, water

lapping at thick thighs as his ki'ita wrung out his hair. He'd
been hard before, half aroused, but now his shaft was like a
rock and desire flashed through him. He dove into the water,
pushing with his arms until he was almost out of breath and
then let himself float back up to the surface.

Jael was right there, arms wrapping around him, pulling

him close. “Quan? Quan? Are you well? A'chaffa! Ki'ita, are
you well?”

Those green eyes were worried, hand pushing the hair

from his face. He blinked up and cupped Jael's cheek. “What's
wrong? What is the matter?”

“You were gone. You were gone for so long.” Jael tugged

him closer. “You were gone beneath the water.”

“Oh!” He wrapped his arms around Jael's neck, making a

soft noise as their skin kissed. “I held my breath—I'm quite
good at it. I am sorry if I worried you, Jael. As you can see,
I'm quite all right.”

Jael nodded, backing them toward the shore. “Yes. Come

to the fire. There is cheese and bread and tea. The furs are
warm.”

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His hunter's arms were shaking, holding him carefully. He

let himself be led, stroking Jael's arm. “I'm sorry I frightened
you, ki'ita.”

Scared eyes focused on his face. “I will not lose you, Quan,

not even to your waters.”

Oh... oh, his heart swelled at the words and he leaned up

to press just a very soft kiss on Jael's lips. “You will not lose
me, Jael.”

“No. I will not.” Jael tugged him close for a hug, growling

low, then unceremoniously hauled him near the fire, wrapping
him in an old blanket to dry him. Quan reveled in the touches,
the care, tried not to hum or show too much joy. He could
feel Jael's anxiety, knew it arose from caring and love, even if
Jael himself did not yet recognize the feelings. Jael paced,
wrapping him in furs, watching him constantly, pushing food
into his hands. Slowly his hunter relaxed, settling close
enough to touch.

“I am a very good swimmer, Jael. Remember that I could

swim before I could walk or talk.” He reached out and stroked
his hunter's hand. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“I turned and you were gone and I thought...” Jael's face

fell and the callused hand moved beneath his. “I thought the
winds had decided I was not worthy to care for you.”

“Oh.” He moved closer and took Jael's face in his hands

tilting it up. “If anything it is I who am not worthy of your
care, sweet hunter.” He pressed soft kisses over Jael's face,
seeking to console, to comfort. To prove he was alive and
well.

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“Quan...” Jael was shivering, gasping. “I... Oh... I...

Ki'ita...”

He took Jael's hand and brought it to his heart, pressing it

against his chest. “Feel my heart beat, Jael. I am alive. Alive
and well and with you.”

He continued to press the soft kisses over his ki'ita's face,

being able to touch, to do so without having Jael draw back...
he would be crying soon from too much joy.

Jael's hand slid down to his stomach, moving slowly. “I feel

you.” The whisper was shocked, quiet, so very stunned.

A soft sob filled the air—his own. “Yes, ki'ita—feel me.”
Jael nodded, head dipping. That hand roamed over his

stomach, the touch almost innocent, so soft, so easing.
“Ki'ita.”

“Oh, Jael...” He slid his hands through Jael's hair, over his

back. It felt so good to sit like this, to feel the closeness
between them.

Jael shivered, a soft noise sliding over Quan's skin. “I... I

am glad you came, Quan. The ride was good, to know you
were close.”

Smiling a little, Quan leaned against Jael's shoulder. “It

was, my Hunter. And your cave!” The water still sang, the
song soft, soothing and he could feel it as well as hear it.
Combined with the soft touches of Jael's hand on his belly...
he had never felt so at peace, so good. “Thank you for
sharing it with me.”

Jael nodded. “I thought you would enjoy it. The river is

beautiful, but this water is special.”

“Yes, it is. Like the man who showed it to me.”

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Jael chuckled. “Your ki'ita is a hunter, Quan. No great

warrior, but you will not want for anything. I will provide for
your needs.”

“Bah, great warriors are not special. My ki'ita the hunter

is.” He risked another kiss, just a soft one against the skin of
Jael's shoulder. “You are what I need.”

“Good. I want no pain for you, only ease.” Jael's fingers

trailed through his drying hair, painlessly working through
snarls and tiny knots. “Magic.”

“Magic?”
Jael ducked his head and blushed. “Your hair. When I was

a little boy, I would dream... Oh, it's silly. I just love how your
hair catches the light.”

“Oh!” He felt his own cheeks flush, his cock stir as pleasure

swirled in his belly. “What would you dream, Jael? I would like
to know. I would like to know everything about you.”

“I would dream about riding, chasing the river. I was

running along behind someone in the current and their hair
would slide over my hands, black as night, catching the light.
I always believed that was what magic felt like.” Jael's hair
hid his hunter's face, hid those green eyes.

“You dreamed of me when you were a boy!” Quan hugged

Jael tightly. “The winds spoke to you in your dreams of me. I
am honoured, Jael.”

“I... Yes. Yes, the winds told me, but I could not see.” Jael

met his eyes. “I am trying to be what you need, trying to
understand and know what to do.”

He cupped Jael's cheek, fingers stroking the tanned skin.

“I know I am not what you were expecting or even wanted,

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but I am yours, Jael and I will make you happy if you give me
a chance.”

“You are my ki'ita. My One given by the winds. You have

all the chances.”

“Jael...” He leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against

Jael's. Jael gasped, stilled, but didn't back away, just watched
him with stunned, sparkling eyes. He held the green eyes as
he moved his lips slowly against Jael's, the muscles of his
belly jumping. Jael's palm pressed against his stomach, the
other hand sliding over his jaw into his hair. He licked gently
at Jael's lips, just the tip of his tongue teasing lightly.

“Oh...” Jael's lips parted, breath coming quick and light. He

could taste sweetgrass and fresh water on his hunter's lips,
the warm breath carrying the scent of the forest on it.

He pressed a little harder, lips clinging to Jael's now. Jael

shuddered, pressing close and pulling back in nervous waves.
He put his hand over Jael's on his stomach, pressing. “You
take away my pain, Jael,” he whispered against soft lips. He
brought his other hand to their lips, touching his own as well
as Jael's. “You make me feel so good.”

“No pain, ki'ita.” Jael brushed his lips against Quan's

fingers. “No pain.”

He looked into the green eyes. “It's more than that

though, Jael. More than just no pain. Your touch...” made him
hard, but would saying that frighten his skittish ki'ita?

“My touch?” Jael's hand moved gently over his stomach,

massaging and arousing.

“Makes me ache for more, makes me want you. We could

bring each other such pleasure, my ki'ita.” He brought their

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lips together again, pressing and licking. Jael gasped again,
lips parting, kiss deepening ever so slightly. Oh. Oh, his ki'ita,
his hunter, Jael was kissing him back. Tears began to fall, his
emotions overwhelming him. He licked the insides of Jael's
lips, opened his own mouth a little more.

Jael's fingers brushed his tears from his cheeks, soft lips

leaving his to whisper, “Quan? Are you... Do you ache?”

He licked Jael's fingers, tasting the salt of his tears. “A

good ache, Jael. You make me feel so good, it is almost too
much.”

“Should I stop?” Jael moaned, eyes focused and shining

with the flame. “I will stop.”

“Oh, no, Jael. Please don't stop. I said almost. Almost.” He

closed their lips together again, tongue dancing its way inside
Jael's mouth, searching for its mate. Jael groaned, pushing
into the kiss with a tentative need, tongue sliding against him
own, clumsy and so sweet. His breath caught, his hand
pushing Jael's tight against his belly as his hips jerked. Oh, he
wanted this man. So badly. With a hunger he had never
before tasted. He opened his mouth wider, teased and
encouraged, trying to coax Jael's tongue into his own mouth.

Jael groaned, tongue sliding on his lips. “Ki'ita. I never...

Oh, Quan.”

Then Jael's tongue dipped inside his lips to taste. He was

shaking like a virgin, pleasure moving through him in wave
after wave. Nothing had ever made him feel like this, not
even the water. Hands slid over his skin, slow and warm,
trembling. The kiss deepened, Jael whimpering, gasping,
body pushing close, a thick heat pushing against his thigh. He

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shifted, bringing their shafts together, gasping and grabbing
onto Jael's shoulders and they rubbed together.

“Oh! Quan! I... I don't... I...” Jael's hands cupped his face,

eyes wide as their mouths met again, tongues sliding
together, wet and hot. He let one hand slide down along
Jael's chest, taking their cocks in his hand and stroking them
together as he moaned. Jael jerked, pushing them over into
the furs with a harsh cry. “Quan! Oh!”

Then his hunter came for him, heat splashing against his

hand and belly. It was enough to send him cresting on his
own wave and he cried out his hunter's name as he came.
The pleasure moved along his spine, making lights sparkle
behind his eyes. He could hear the cave and the water singing
to one another, could feel it inside and in the way he and Jael
were singing to each other now.

Jael gasped, holding him tight, shudders rocking the long

body. Each sweet shudder brought out a matching one from
him, as if Jael's pleasure were his own.

“I... Quan...” Jael sounded stunned, sated and just a little

scared.

He reached up to bring Jael's mouth to his again, keeping

the kiss soft and easy. “Oh, Jael... that was more beautiful
than anything I have ever known.”

He stroked gently along Jael's back, staying connected.

Jael relaxed against him, purring softly. “I can feel you—your
song.”

“No, Jael. That is our song.”
Bright green eyes ringed with deep brown looked at him

for a long moment, then Jael nodded. “Yes, ki'ita. Our song.”

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He stroked Jael's cheek and then took another soft kiss. He

was warm and held close in the arms he'd only dreamed of.
He could think of nothing he would rather do. Jael watched
him, blinks growing longer and longer, his hunter quiet and
close, singing within him. Yes, he would like to stay in this
peaceful and painless place. He curled against Jael's warmth,
sleep stealing him away.

* * * *

Jael took his mug of tea and sat at the mouth of the cave,

watching the rain and letting his thoughts flow. He had felt
Quan inside him, had felt the bond—hot and rushing and
right. That was right, as it should be, the wind blessing them.
But the other?

Jael drank deep of the hot water. Was it fear, worry that

he'd lost his ki'ita? Was it just hunger because he had not
been touched in weeks? He had been with hunting parties
before, watched the hunters taking pleasure with one
another, but he had never wanted that, always longed for the
soft curves and sweet lips of Naki, of a woman. He shivered
as he remembered the heat and need of last night. No woman
had made him feel that way. Not even Naki's teasing kisses
had felt so hot, so hungry, so desperate to touch and be
touched.

Jael sighed as his cock twitched, began to fill at just the

memory of Quan's flavour, Quan's hands. He reached down,
stroking slowly, Perhaps it was just need. He closed his eyes,
focused on Naki—her fall of thick hair, her fine waist, blue-
green eyes like the river and flavours of sweet water...

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“A'chaffa!” He shook his head and tried again, focusing on

Naki's face and body until his excitement heightened and then
his mind filled with Quan.

“Jael?” Quan's voice came from right behind him and then

a slender hand slid over his shoulder. “Oh! You don't have to
do that alone, you know?”

“Oh!” He jerked, muscles rippling beneath the touch, hand

still working. “I... I thought you were sleeping, Quan. I did
not wish to bother you, to wake you.”

Quan knelt behind him, arms wrapping around his waist.

“It wouldn't have been a bother,” whispered across his ear.

“Quan!” He needed to think, needed to understand why his

body was betraying him, why he was hot and burning now.
Needing.

“I could help,” Quan suggested, front warm against his

back, heat pressed against his spine. One fine hand was
moving down toward his shaft.

He watched for a second, gasping, then pressed his hand

against Quan's, trapping it above his shaft. “Stop. Stop. I
need to... I need to understand this. I've never felt... Didn't
think I would... and now I do and I don't understand why. I
thought I wanted her and now I can't stop thinking about you
and I don't know why.”

He'd never felt fickle before, always thought he knew what

he needed.

“We are ki'ita, our songs have joined together—it is only

natural that our bodies rush to do so as well.”

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“You want this, too? Do you believe it is true, that it is

right?” His fingers traced and caressed Quan's, body
responding to Quan's warmth against his back.

“I could feel it the moment we first touched, Jael.”
“Then why couldn't I?”
“I don't know,” Quan answered softly. “Perhaps you just

didn't recognize what you were feeling?”

He sighed and nodded. “Perhaps. It is fortunate that bear

did not eat you, otherwise I would never have known.”

Quan chuckled. “It's almost a shame you killed him, we

could have thanked him for bringing us together.”

Jael snorted, laughter startled from him. “Somehow, Quan,

I don't think you would have appreciated it, at the time.”

He began to relax, rest against Quan's body as they

chuckled.

“No, I doubt I would have.” Quan's cheek rubbed against

his back, the long fall of hair sliding over his skin.

He moaned, just a bit. “I have never desired the bodies of

men. Never.”

“I'm not ‘men', Jael. I am your ki'ita. What has been

before matters not.”

“You are my ki'ita.” He nodded, just saying the words

made him smile, made him proud.

“Then will you let me help you find your pleasure?” Quan

wriggled his fingers against Jael's skin.

That sent a shiver through him and he jerked, chuckling.

“Quan, stop! That tickles!”

Quan chuckled, breath sliding across his neck, fingers

reaching downward. “May I?”

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He groaned, hips pushing his cock up to meet Quan's

touch. His body knew. His body needed. “Yes. I want... Yes.”

Quan made a soft noise, not a whimper, but not quite a

moan either and those soft-skinned fingers wrapped around
his shaft, pulling firmly.

“Oh...” His eyes fell shut, lips parting as he pushed up into

that soft, strong grip. His balls tightened, need spiking
quickly, his body hungry. Quan's other hand stroked along his
belly and soft kisses were sending sensation up and down
along his spine. Jael sobbed, jerking in Quan's hand, unable
to wait, unable to refuse his own need. “Quan.”

He whispered his One's name as he came, his seed

splashing over Quan's fingers. Quan continued to stroke him,
pulling shudder after shudder from him. At last the hand
around him stilled, Quan's breath sweet against his neck. “I...
oh...” He shivered. “That felt... oh...”

“Good,” suggested Quan, voice thick.
He nodded. “Good.”
“Good.” Quan rubbed against his back, shaft hot and hard

and unmistakable against him. His ki'ita's mouth was leaving
soft, wet kisses at the top of his spine.

“Do you need... You're so hot, ki'ita. I feel you.” He was

breathing quickly, cock twitching again, eager and ready.

“Yes, my Hunter. I need.”
“Oh... What...” Suddenly he wanted to see Quan, to look

and see the need in those eyes. He turned, back resting
against the cave wall, looking towards his ki'ita. Quan's eyes
were dark, the hunger there clear and directed at him. His
ki'ita's cock jutted from Quan's hips, tip wet and red. He

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reached out, finger sliding over the slick tip, teasing the
swollen, heated skin.

“Jael!” A shudder rippled through Quan's slender body.
“Yes, ki'ita.” He touched again, confidence and a fierce

possessiveness filling him. This man, this ba'chi, this passion
was his to protect, his to hold, his to care for and love. Quan
cried out and pressed close, arms going around his neck, face
turning up for a kiss. Jael leaned forward, their mouths
meeting, his hand circling Quan's shaft, making love to
another, to his One. Quan responded with abandon, moans
and whimpers letting him know how good it was, how good
he was. The sounds were fed into his mouth, making him
vibrate with Quan's pleasure.

The rain was blowing in on them and he wrapped his arms

beneath Quan's buttocks, keeping their groins together as he
stood, heading out into the water. “Quan. Good.”

Quan whimpered and arched his back, pushing their shafts

harder together as he exposed his face to the rain. “Oh... so
good, Jael.”

Oh, Quan was... so beautiful, so free. Jael groaned, adding

his strength to Quan's thrusts, desire hot on his tongue, in his
spine. They made love in the rain, water falling all around
them, soaking them as they gave their cries to the sky.
Magic. It was magic. Jael arched, grinding up against Quan, a
heartbeat from climax. Quan pulled himself forward, joining
their mouths, pushing a sweet, hot cry into his mouth as heat
spread over his cock and belly. His knees buckled as he came,
their weight landing in the wet grass, kiss continuing without

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interruption. Quan's legs and arms wrapped around him,
holding him tight.

They were gasping into each other's mouths, shudders

rocking him. “Quan. Is this... Are you okay?”

“So good, Jael. I have never felt anything like this.” Quan's

voice was breathless, matching shudders wracking his One's
body.

He nodded, gasping. “We should go in. Get out of the

rain.” Near the fire and the furs and normalcy and the warm
spring.

“As you wish,” Quan murmured, pressing warm, sucking

kisses along the skin of his face, pulling away the rainwater.

He chuckled. “Are you hungry, ki'ita? Do you thirst?”
“The rains have quenched my thirst and you have fed my

hunger, ki'ita.”

A strand of dark, wet hair caught on his face and he lifted

it with careful fingers. “Are you happy, Quan? Have... have
you found your home?”

“I am, Jael. Can you not feel it?”
He nodded. “It is new for me, strange, but I do. I feel you

in my heart.”

The smile Quan gave him was full, beautiful, making his

One's face shine. He would give his life for this man, give
everything to provide and care and to see that look. It scared
him, but he could not deny the Winds its truth. Quan was his
ki'ita and he was Quan's.

As it should be.

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Chapter 8

They camped near the river, a half-day's ride from the

village. The three weeks they'd been hunting had been
wonderful. Quan had never felt so relaxed and at peace, his
body exhausted, but in a good way. They had played in the
water and made love and done a little bit of hunting, more
fish than meat as Quan could give Jael an advantage in the
water. Now they were on their last night together before
returning to the tribe. In many ways, Quan wished they could
stay forever just the two of them, but they had
responsibilities to the tribe and it would be less pleasant in
the forest when the season turned cold.

He washed up their plates and eating utensils and, after

wrapping them in cloth, returned to their camp.

Jael was brushing out his mount, singing, hair swinging

over the sweetly curved buttocks, encased in the well-worn
leather. He watched for a moment, appreciating the strong
muscles, clenching and rolling beneath the tanned, fine skin.
That tan was unbroken, barring the white scars upon Jael's
cheeks and his own fine emerald mark on the broad chest.
His breath caught in his throat. Oh, his ki'ita was magnificent.
He adjusted his own shaft within the confines of his suddenly
too small leggings. Jael worked a row of tiny beads into
Sernes’ mane, stilling for a second, sniffing and then looking
over to smile. “Quan. I thought it was you.”

“You can smell me?” He wasn't sure whether to be pleased

or insulted—he was cleaner than anyone he'd ever known.

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Jael nodded, turning back to Sernes to finish her

grooming. “You smell of sweet water and soap and something
you. My nose searches for it.”

Oh. Definitely pleased. He preened just a little.
Jael patted Sernes’ rump, sent her to graze. Then he

looked at Quan, eyes twinkling. “My Peacock.”

He blushed at that and went to his ki'ita, not even minding

that Jael was all horsy.

“Are you ready to go home, Quan?” Jael took a damp cloth

from his waistband and wiped his hands before wrapping a
strong arm around Quan's shoulders.

He leaned against the strength of his ki'ita and tilted his

face up for a kiss. “I will miss the absolute privacy that we
share in your forest.”

Jael nodded and brushed warm lips over Quan's, tongue

sliding in to touch and taste and tease. “It is harder there.
There I am a little boy, still. A hunter who was lucky enough
to save a beautiful peacock of a ba'chi.”

He stroked the scarred cheeks and then let his hand slowly

drift down Jael's body as he took a long, slow kiss. He pushed
his hand against Jael's shaft. “Even back among the tribe, I
will not believe you are a little boy.”

“Quan...” He got a heated look, Jael's hips jerking up

against his hand.

“Never a little boy to me, my hunter.” He slid his hand up

and down along the growing bulge.

“You... you make me need, Quan. Will this never ease, this

hunger?” Jael reached up, loosened his hair from its bun,
eyes following the fall.

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“I hope not,” he murmured, licking at the sweet lips. Jael

opened to him, pressing their lips together with a moan. He
wrapped his free hand around Jael's neck, hanging on as the
kiss deepened. He was growing used to this feeling of need
and pleasure, wanted it always. Jael was slowly more and
more eager, adventurous, his ki'ita's hunger so sweet. Jael's
hands trailed down his spine, ghosting over his hips.

“Too many clothes,” he murmured, wanting skin on skin,

the beautiful, smooth heat of his ki'ita against him.

“Yes.” Jael muttered his agreement—he didn't stop kissing

or moving, Quan noted, but he agreed. He chuckled into the
kiss and started to half-heartedly work on his own clothes, he
knew he'd get hopelessly tangled in the laces of Jael's
leathers. Jael grinned and took a step back, slowly undoing
his laces, peeling layers of leather off those amazing thighs.

“Oh...” Quan felt a little faint, and he ached, his balls and

cock throbbing within his leggings.

Jael shimmied out of the leg covers and straightened, soft

loincloth covering the full, hard cock, pink sacs just visible.
“Quan?”

“You take my breath, Jael.” He moaned softly, hands

sliding over himself as he shuddered.

“Me, ki'ita?” Jael shook his head, eyes hot and hungry. “I

am as my brother before me. You... You are magic, are so
lovely. My Peacock.”

“Oh yes, you, Jael. So lovely, come see what you do to

me.”

Jael nodded, moving close, licking the kiss-swollen lips.

“What do I do to you, ki'ita?”

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He took Jael's hand with his own, pressing it against his

erection. “You make me ache with wanting you.” He laughed
softly at himself. “You make me tremble so I can't even get
my own clothes off.”

“That is a shame.” Jael reached out, removing his outer

layer. “I have been undressing you from the first day.”

He laughed, the sound breathless and wanton. “Then I

guess I'm lucky you're here to help me.”

“Yes.” Jael began pulling away his underclothes, fingers

searching out his skin, stroking him.

He shuddered and pressed close. “Oh... so good, Jael—you

make me feel so good.”

“As it should be.” He could smell Jael, warmth and musk

and sex all wrapped up together. He brought their mouths
together again, kissing Jael with all of his hunger, rubbing
against his ki'ita's heat. Jael's hands reached for him, pulling
him closer and closer. His ki'ita cried out into his mouth, low,
hungry groans that vibrated through them both. He slid his
hands over the warm flesh of his ki'ita, tracing muscles and
teasing nipples. Jael felt so good against him. Jael was
shivering, moving underneath his touch. Heat flowed between
them, necessary and pure. He reached Jael's rippling belly
and stroked, teasing his hand down lower time and again, but
not touching the shaft straining toward his hand.

“Ki'ita.” The growl was a plea and a warning and quite

possibly one of the most sexy things he had ever heard. He
slid his leg up along Jael's thigh, wrapping it around the solid
waist and bringing their shafts tight together. His hand
slipped down and wrapped as best it could around both. Jael's

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hand joined his, the tentative touches turning more and more
sure each time they made love.

It felt so good, the pleasure consuming him. Jael's heat

slid against his own, rubbing with arrhythmic motions, quick
and hungry. His hunter's passion fed his own. He could feel
the pleasure flaring rapidly, the need and hunger growing so
quickly. He still felt like a boy just learning the pleasures of
the body—Jael making him quick to come.

“Quan. I need. Oh! I need.” Jael ducked his head, licking

Quan's shoulders and throat. “My One.”

“Yes, Jael. Take what you need. I am yours.”
Jael sobbed, taking his lips in a desperate, hungry kiss,

tongue pressing deep as heat splashed against his belly, the
scent rich and Jael. That smell alone was enough to trigger
him, added to the kiss and the spray of heat over his skin
sent him soaring, his own climax shaking his body and adding
to the heat between them. Jael groaned, hand still moving so
slightly, drawing aftershocks from him. “Ki'ita.”

He nuzzled into Jael's neck, soft whimpers pulled from

him. “Jael. So good.”

Nodding, Jael took him to their furs, holding him close.

“Yes, Quan. Yes.”

He curled against the solid warmth of his hunter, revelling

in their closeness.

No matter what else happened when they returned to the

tribe, he had this.

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Chapter 9

Jael wandered back towards his tent after a long day of

fishing, ignoring the feasting crowd, simply wanting sleep and
quiet and the presence of his ki'ita—or at least the happy,
joyful man who he'd come to learn on their outing. Since they
had returned home, the looks and laughter had continued,
Quan's nervous nagging and cleaning becoming more and
more exacerbated. He was beginning to worry, wondering if
he had done something to cause Quan unrest, if Quan had
perhaps decided that there was another person to desire, to
want. If the idyll in the forest had been just that—a gift from
the winds to prepare them for a lifetime of unrest and worry.

As he arrived at his tent, he could hear Quan. “Just go!”
The flaps parted and Naki came out, eyes widening as they

saw him. Then she smiled, pressed close and looked up at
him. “Did you have to come back so soon? Your ba'chi is quite
pleasant between the furs.”

His lip curled, stomach clenching in fury. “Di'ben sur,

Naki,” he ground out. “It sounded as if Quan found you less
than pleasant, however. Perhaps oft-used and ill-kept is not
as appealing as it sounds.”

She slapped him, hard, and Quan came out of their tent at

the noise. His ki'ita's eyes widened at the sight of him, but
then turned to Naki. “I asked you to take your poisonous half-
truths about my hi'icha and leave.”

“He is no hi'icha,” laughed Naki, anger flashing in the eyes

he had once found so pretty.

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Quan drew himself up, stiff, fingers curling primly together

in front of him. “He is my ki'ita and I am ba'chi—that makes
him hi'icha.”

“He will not survive a single challenge. He is no hi'icha.”

She was a wasp, dripping with venom.

“I will survive what I must.” Jael met her eyes, exhausted

all through. “I will meet any challenge for him.”

“Just go, Naki. You are not wanted here.” Quan's voice was

sharp. She looked as if she would argue and Jael growled,
showing his teeth, shoulders tightening. The eyes of the tribe
were on them, and he would protect and provide. She would
leave or be removed to her tent. She glared at them both, but
left without saying anything else.

“Infuriating woman,” muttered Quan at his side before

turning and going into their tent.

Jael watched as Quan disappeared, sighing and watching

the fire. They needed wood. They needed supper. He needed
a nap.

“Jael? Are you coming?” Clipped and short, he could hear

the strain in his ki'ita's voice.

He nodded, tearing his eyes from the fire, and headed into

the tent. “Are you well, Quan?”

“I thought we could bathe together—wash each other's

backs and... well I have need of you, Jael. It feels like it has
been days since you touched me.”

Jael felt the horrible tension inside him dissolve with an

almost audible pop, making him sway. He met changing-
water eyes with a smile, weak, but true. “Yes. Please, Quan.
I... I have need of my ki'ita's touch, his kisses.”

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The smile he was given in return was beautiful, Quan

taking a deep breath. “Oh... yes, Jael.”

“To the river? It will soon be too cold to bathe there.” He

reached out, touching Quan's face with a single finger.

“Oh. I had thought you would prefer the bath here so that

we would be assured our privacy, but I must admit that my
skin cries for the river.”

He smiled. How could this man dissolve his fury, his

sorrow? It was unreasonable, but so true. “There are...
private... spots on the river.”

Quan's smile was part pleasure, part seduction and entirely

his. “It would be most wonderful, Jael, if you could show me
one of these private spots.”

He felt his cheeks heat. “If I did not know better, Peacock,

I would think you were attempting to lure me into a trap.”

Quan flushed as well. “Only the most pleasurable of traps,

my hunter, I promise you.”

“Oh, Peacock, you are a joy to me. Shall we bring some

furs and a basket with food? The night promises to be mild
and I have had my fill of company today.”

“As have I, Jael. That sounds wonderful.” Quan began to

bustle about the tent, pulling down his pack and neatly
packing it with a few things that Quan considered essentials.
Jael gathered up a bundle of furs and his tinderbox, worries
and doubts eased by the warmth and pleasure of his ki'ita.

It was exactly what he had needed.

* * * *

Quan leaned over the tub, hair dripping with water and

soap, working the pure suds through the long mass of hair.

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He had meant to do it in the morning, but it was so much
easier to do with Jael's help and his hunter was expected
home today from the hunt. When dusk had not yielded his
hunter to him, he had decided to do it himself. It was a task
that he usually had no problem with, one that felt good to
perform, but he found himself strangely unhappy to be doing
it by himself this night. Jael should have been home already,
should have been helping him.

He dunked his head in the water, trying to get rid of the

soap. It was proving stubborn though, dripping into his eyes
and stinging and he was cold and frustrated, hair hopelessly
tangled and soapy. He sat down, tears threatening. He was
going to start crying in a minute, but he couldn't quite bring
himself to care. He didn't care who heard or saw, the tribe,
the elders, that stupid cow Naki who used every opportunity
to make him miserable and doubt his ki'ita.

Careful hands cupped the back of his head, arching him

carefully over the tub, rinse water sliding through his hair.
“Di'ben nor, ki'ita.”

Oh! He gasped quietly, tense muscles relaxing, letting

Jael's hands hold him and guide him and make things right.
When the soap was gone and Jael had righted him again, he
smiled up at his ki'ita. “Di'ben nor, ki'ita. Thank you.”

Jael nodded and smiled. His hunter was filthy—covered

with black, clothes torn. “My turn, I think.”

He gulped and nodded, and, judging that there was just

enough of his hunter's lips that were not dirty, stole a quick
kiss before backing away.

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“Are you hurt?” he asked, worried at what so much dirt

might be hiding.

“A scratch here and there, nothing worth comment.” Jael

started stripping, tossing his leathers to the side. “We'll have
to see if they're mendable.” Jael's stomach was covered in
scratches, a few brambles still caught in the skin. There was a
darkening bruise on one hip, but Jael spoke the truth. He was
not seriously hurt, just banged about.

“We'll have to see if they'll clean first,” he suggested,

pushing them aside. “What happened?”

“We met a boar who introduced me to a briar patch.” Jael

rolled his eyes, then shook his head. “Harit was carried home
lame. So I will not complain.”

“Oh, Jael!” His heart was beating so fast at the thought of

Jael being hurt like that. He went forward and slid his hands
over Jael, not caring about the dirt that still soiled his hunter,
needing to feel for himself the solid heat and wholeness of his
ki'ita.

“I'm fine, Quan. Just a boar. It happens.” Jael's voice was

warm, fond, unconcerned as he stepped into the tub.

“Well it has never happened to my ki'ita before, Jael.” He

cupped his hands and gathered water, rinsing Jael's skin. Jael
purred, stretching and offering more skin to his sight, water
sliding down in rivulets. He took his soap and sudsed up his
hands, sliding them over the muscled back. “I'm glad you
were not seriously hurt, my hunter.” Jael leaned forward,
moaning. The mud washed away, leaving the long line of
deeply tanned skin. Quan moaned softly. “I wish to love you,
Jael.”

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Green eyes turned, looked at him. “Do you? Love me,

Quan?”

He blinked, realising he had never said the words but they

were true, he could feel it. Feel it in his heart, in his gut, in
his soul. “Yes, Jael. I do.”

“That is a good thing, my One.” Jael's eyes twinkled.

“Because you make my heart sing.”

“Oh...” He met Jael's look with a smile, his earlier

annoyance and upset entirely gone. “Come out of the tub,
ki'ita, and let us share our hearts’ songs.”

Jael ducked his head beneath the water, standing with a

splash and a wide, happy grin. “Yes, my One. As it should
be.”

* * * *

Kaen looked up with a raised eyebrow as Jael sat down

beside him. Mut looked at them quietly and went to assist the
senior holy men in their ritual, his lover walking slowly and
steadily away, leaving them alone by the fading fire. He
offered Jael a cup of steaming broth. “I was wondering when
you'd come, Little Brother.”

Jael's eyes were dark and sombre. Only Jael had their

mother's eyes, green and still and so quiet in that expressive,
laughing face. “I need your help, Eldest Brother.”

Kaen nodded. “You have grown to love him.”
“I have.”
“You have become his ki'ita.”
Another nod. “I have.”
“And now?”

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He watched Jael's face grow fierce, sharp, hungry. In that

moment, Kaen understood that his brother was ready, grown,
no regret or boy crush left behind. “I have grown to desire
him.”

Kaen nodded. “How can I help you, Little Brother?”
“Tell me what I need to know to please him, to make his

heart sing.”

“He is your One, Jael. His heart sings.” Kaen stood and

brushed his thighs off. “Come, we will bathe and talk and
then you will make his body sing, yes?”

* * * *

Quan puttered quietly around the tent, making it as clean

and neat outside as it was in. Jael was out hunting or fishing
or drinking mead with his brothers, Quan wasn't sure exactly
which. Not that it really mattered, the upshot was that the
boy was gone. Had been gone for several hours. It made
Quan nervous, made him itch. He knew in his head that Jael
would be back, but his body didn't know it. It felt so good to
be around Jael, felt right and true. But it hadn't been long
since Jael had finally accepted that they were made for each
other and Quan's body didn't quite trust it yet. Things, while
not awful, were strained here among the tribe, who still
watched them and whispered and laughed.

Of course he'd long ago given up on finding the one who

matched him, so he had no reason to complain now.

He swept the dust out of the tent one more time, keeping

the brush moving in a north/south direction down several feet
from the entrance, leaving neat, even grooves in the dirt. He
was going to talk to Jael about putting in stones. Just for a

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few feet all around the tent. It would cut down on the amount
of dirt tracked and blown into the tent and it would keep the
immediate area around the tent neat. In the meantime, he
would sweep.

Satisfied it was as even as it was going to get, he went

back into the tent and began to refold the blankets, sorting
them by age this time. He really hoped Jael would be back
soon.

“Quan? You in there?” Jael's voice held that vaguely

confused fondness that he was becoming used to, the sound
oddly endearing.

“Yes, Jael. I'm fixing the blankets.” He waited for Jael to

appear, the tightness in his muscles already easing.

“Are they broken? I can get you more, if you need them.”

Jael ducked through the flap, hair and braids almost brushing
floor, heavy with the remnants of water. His skin was still
damp, too, beads of water decorating nipple and navel,
crystal drops shining in the hair of arms and legs. Even the
simple loincloth was dark, the bear claw pattern painted upon
it turned black.

“Oh...” Jael looked magnificent and Quan went to him,

blankets tumbling to the floor, forgotten. Reaching out, he
touched his finger to Jael's navel and then brought a drop to
his lips. “You're wet.”

“Yes. Water does that to me.” Jael grinned. “I was dusty

after the hunt and I know how you feel about dust.”

Warmth bloomed in his belly and settled in his cock and

balls. “Thank you.”

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He let his hand slide up along the wide chest, collecting the

water on his own skin. Jael's stomach rippled beneath his
touch.

“You're welcome, my One.” The words were soft, careful,

just slightly husky.

His eyes flew up to meet Jael's, his heart thumping loudly

in his chest, the beat carried also in the way his erection
throbbed against the material of his pants. It was something
that Jael was beginning to say more often and it made Quan
feel good, special, whole. Dark green eyes, the deepest brown
ringing them, smiled down at him, warm and admiring and
strangely at peace.

He smiled up at Jael, feeling oddly young and vulnerable

and good. Tilting his head slightly, he pushed himself up onto
his toes, mouth slightly parted as it neared its mate. Jael bent
into the kiss, eyes never leaving his as those lips—those soft,
smooth, welcoming lips—covered his. He couldn't have
stopped his moan if he'd wanted to. The kiss was pleasure
and warmth and caring and arousal and Quan leaned against
Jael, letting his clothing absorb the water from Jael's skin.

Jael's body was firm and warm against him, supporting

him, not shrinking away from his touch, his need, his
pleasure. His hands slid smoothly along Jael's water-slicked
skin, exploring the large muscles, so different from his own.
Quan felt the moan before he heard it, vibrating up through
the wide shoulders and over his lips. He pressed close, hips
pushing against one thick thigh. There was an answering
hardness nudging his belly.

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“I can feel you.” The words were whispered against his

lips. “Hard for me.”

“Yes.” He rubbed his hips against Jael again. “You make

me ache.”

“Do I? Is it a good ache?” With every word, Jael's lips

moved on his, a soft, sweet tease. He moaned and shook just
a little, totally entranced by the unexpected seduction. “I was
sleeping in the far meadow, napping in the sun, and I dreamt
of you.” The green eyes seemed to darken, fastened onto his.

“Oh, did I come to you in your dream?”
“I could smell you, clean and clear and fresh. The world

was the colour of your eyes.”

Quan smiled and pressed himself against Jael. “It sounds

like a lovely dream, my Hunter. And it seems to have left you
in a very good mood.”

“It was a lovely dream. Not as real as this, but still good.”
“Shall we make your dream come true?” He leaned up,

mouth pressing against Jael's, tasting the sweet water first
and then the flavour he'd come to recognize as Jael. Jael's
hand cupped his jaw, the other finding the small of his back.
The touch of their tongues together sparked a flare of passion
deep within him. He moaned into Jael's mouth, hands finding
the broad shoulders and clinging to them.

The kiss was too short, Jael's lips pulling away, blinking

slowly, breath hitching in his chest. “You make me dizzy,
Quan. Make my knees weak.”

“Then perhaps we should go lie among the furs. I would

hate for you to fall.” He let his hands slide down along Jael's
arms, the damp skin warm and right against his hands.

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“I would like that.” Oh, those eyes were quiet and steady

and serious and unflinching and full of warmth and looking at
him. Callused hands brushed down his chest. “Can I take
these off, Quan? Touch your skin?”

“Yes.” His voice wasn't quite steady and he felt rather

breathless. His outer robe was smoothed off, carefully set
aside, kept off the floor. Then those gentle fingers traced over
his stomach, stroking gently over the finely knit fabric. He
stretched, pushing into the touch with a soft moan, Jael's
fingers were like his magic, he could feel them down to his
soul. “That's not my skin,” he pointed out softly.

“No, it's not.” Jael's eyes smiled at him and then the

undershirt was pulled up and away. Those warm fingers
returned, petting and caressing. “Your skin is soft.”

“Your hands are warm and gentle and they make me feel

good.” Smiling, he pushed his hips against Jael again, another
soft moan escaping him as his erection dragged against Jael.
“Very good.”

“I like that.”
He nodded in agreement. “Please, more skin?”
Jael made a soft noise and then slowly went to his knees

before Quan, hands so slowly sliding the knit leggings off his
hips and down his legs. Without a word, Jael helped him step
out of the cloth, leaving him bare.

Sliding his hands into Jael's braids, he let his fingers count

them, naming each of the memories before tugging Jael's
head up to look at him. “You make my heart glad, my
Hunter.”

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“I... I have a favor to ask of you, my One.” The dark eyes

were so still, so serious.

A knot formed in his stomach and he bit his lower lip,

working to keep his hands from tightening in Jael's hair.
“Yes?”

“I would like to wear your braid, ki'ita.”
“Oh...” Oh. He swallowed as tears came, unbidden, to his

eyes. “I would be honoured.”

Jael pressed a single soft kiss to his stomach and then the

scarred cheek stroked along his skin. “Thank you, Quan.”

“Y-you're welcome.” His breath caught in his throat,

pleasure from the request mingling with the pleasure of Jael's
skin against his, so close to his erection. He couldn't help the
movement that slid his cock along Jael's chin, gasping at the
contact.

Jael started just slightly and then grinned up at him. “I am

aware it is there, Quan. You don't have to remind me.”

When Jael ducked his head and rubbed along the shaft

with his cheek, Quan thought his heart would stop. He
watched, fascinated, as Jael's well-tanned skin slid along his
pale shaft flushed red with blood. His hands were trembling
as they slid down to grasp Jael's shoulders. Jael's lips just
brushed against his sacs, breath hot and shaky. “Oh... you
smell so good here, Quan. So good.”

There was an overwhelmed awe in that whisper.
“Would you like to taste?” His voice was barely audible. It

was so quiet in the tent, the only sounds their breathing, all
gasps and sighs and shaking inhalations.

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“Yes. Would you allow it?” Even as the question was asked,

Jael's tongue came out, sliding along his skin. His moan was
loud and his hips jerked as the soft tongue touched him. It
was all he could do not to hold Jael's head between his hands
and push his cock between the sweet lips. For so long all they
had done was touch each other with hands, and now this... it
was sweet bliss. Jael's tongue slid over the tip of his cock,
dipping into the slit. Dark eyes flashed up at him, so bright
and hungry. “You... I can taste you.”

Then the tongue slid over his cock again, searching for

more.

His breath was a sob and his eyes dropped closed. It felt

so good. He said as much, hoping to encourage the touches
to expand and continue. “So good, Jael.”

“Yes. So good. More.” Jael lips closed over the tip, pulling

gently, tongue sliding. Another sob and he wondered if he this
could be real. Perhaps he was dreaming. His eyes flew open.
Jael was on his knees before him, mouth closed around the
tip of his cock. Not a dream. Jael sucked, mouth hot and soft
and so careful. Low hungry moans rumbled up at him and
after each one, the pressure of Jael's sweet mouth intensified.
He began to stroke Jael's cheeks, fingers sliding over the
marked flesh and down along the sides which were hollowed
around his shaft. It was so good and he couldn't stop the
small movements his hips began to make, an oh-so-gentle
rocking.

Those green eyes never closed, focused intently on him,

on his skin, on the motions of his body. It had been so long,
and it felt so good, so much better with this man than with

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any other man or woman even though Jael was tentative and
almost too careful. Quan moaned and opened his mouth, tried
to warn Jael that he was close, too close, but all that came
out of his mouth was a strangled shout as his climax pushed
through him in a sweet wave. Jael's eyes widened and his
hunter swallowed hard, only a few drops sliding from the
corner of his mouth.

Gasping, Quan reached out and collected the drops. “I'm

sorry, it came upon me so suddenly, I didn't have time to
warn you.”

“You taste so sweet and salty all at once.” Jael's voice was

stunned, tongue sliding out to collect the drops off his fingers.
“So good. I didn't know you would taste so good.”

Quan's fingers were trembling as they slid over Jael's face.

His knees weren't very steady, either. Jael lifted his face for
the touches, sighing softly as Quan's fingers traced over his
skin.

“You're different today,” Quan ventured softly. “Happy. At

peace.”

“Yes.” Jael smiled at him, warm and open and

heartbreakingly honest. “They say that once you stop fighting
the winds and rejoice in the gifts it brings, your heart eases.”

Quan's hands traced the increasingly familiar features and

bent, giving Jael a long, sweet kiss. “I am glad,” he whispered
as their lips parted.

“You never doubted me. You knew from the start that I

would love you.” Not a question, but a statement, Jael's
fingers stroking along his belly, warm and right.

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“I could feel you under my skin and in my heart.” His eyes

closed as he leaned into the soft caresses. “I did worry. That
you would never grow to like me.”

“Oh. I do, you know? Like you.” Jael kissed the corner of

his mouth. “And I need you and want you and I love you.”

His eyes opened to look into Jael's and he smiled. “And I

love you. Make love to me now?”

Jael grinned. “I thought that was what I was doing,

Peacock.”

He chuckled, feeling happy and warm. “I meant among our

furs, lying down, face to face and body to body.”

“You don't think I'm overdressed?” Jael winked, standing

and holding his hand out to Quan. “Come, my One, let us find
our furs.”

Grinning, he took Jael's hand. He searched with his free

hand, finding the knot in Jael's loincloth and slipping it open.
The material fell to the ground, leaving his lover bare. He
admired the thick muscles of back and thighs, chest and
belly, the thick cock that curved up toward Jael's navel. His
own cock responded to the sight, growing slowly harder.

Jael led him over to the soft bedding, sitting down

amongst the furs with a soft moan, reaching up to trace along
the line of his cock. A shudder moved through Quan and he
sat down abruptly, legs no longer willing to hold him upright.
He pressed forward into Jael's arms, kissing him with a rising
passion. Jael fell back onto the furs, pulling Quan up along
the long, hard body, mouth open and hungry for him. He
moaned, rubbing against Jael's warmth. His lover was strong
and hard and smooth.

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“Quan, my One...” Jael groaned into his mouth. Another

shudder moved through him, the sweetness of Jael's words
making his balls ache.

“Say it again,” he whispered against Jael's lips.
“My One. My Quan. My One.” Possession and pleasure and

need were all rolled together, sweet and hot.

“Yes.” He took Jael's mouth, passion surging through him,

overwhelming and strong.

Jael groaned, hands sliding down over his spine. Their

tongues moved together, pushing and pressing. He rolled,
bringing Jael with him, only stopping when his lover lay on
top of him. His legs spread, knees bending slightly as he
cradled Jael between them. He felt the soft sob that slipped
into his mouth, Jael shuddering, hips beginning to move in
short, quick jerky motions. Jael's erection slid along his own,
heat pressing against heat. Digging his heels into the ground,
he began to meet the awkward thrusts. He slid his hands
down to cup Jael's buttocks, guiding the motions until the
thrusts became smooth.

“Oh...” Jael lifted his head, the look on his face dazed,

stunned, completely enrapt. “Quan. Can you feel... oh, my
One...”

He laughed, the sound bursting happily from him. “Oh yes,

my Hunter. I feel it—I feel you and you feel very, very good.”

“Winds above... so good, my One.” Jael's lips found his

again with a low sob, tongue thrusting in time with the
motions of their bodies. He let his eyes close, let his mind go,
and just felt. He felt the slide of Jael's tongue in his mouth
and the roll of the slim hips against his own, the hardness

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that matched and met his, the heavy chest, pressing against
him, pressing him into the ground, above him, on him. Jael
groaned, body stiffening, heat spreading between them, the
sharp smell of Jael's seed filling the air. His own pleasure
spiked, his body arching up into the heat pressing down on
him and he came as well, the scent of his own come mingling
with Jael's. His Jael—his Jael—shook and trembled above him,
breath panting against his throat. “I love you, Quan. Love
you.”

He kissed a scarred cheek, tongue sliding out to taste the

mark. “And I love you, my Hunter.”

A low, gentle noise filled the air, a rumbling hum of

contentment, deep and steady. It poured over him, waves of
sweet sound. He stroked Jael's back with his hands, fingers
travelling the line of spine, as he nuzzled his cheek against
Jael's. It was the first time they had lain together after
making love, bodies still pressed together. Usually Jael was
eager to roll over and sleep, or to get up and get dressed and
go hunting. Quan liked the change.

“You smell so good.” He chuckled. “Clean.”
“No, my One. It's you.”
He sniffed and shook his head. “All I can smell is you.”
“I washed before I came in. I swear on the winds.” Jael's

voice was growing tight again, the low purring disappeared. A
soft kiss fell on his shoulder and his lover pushed upright. “I
should go fetch you water to clean yourself. You'll get sticky.”

“No! I didn't mean you smelled bad, just that you were all

I could smell.” He slid his hand along Jael's shoulder, keeping
Jael from getting up. “Please stay.”

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Jael's hand slid over his belly, slicking their seed over his

skin. “What about this? You don't mind?” Jael's nostrils flared,
eyes darkening as his hand moved.

He felt himself blush as he met Jael's eyes. “I would bathe

in your seed if I could. It feels good upon my skin.”

Heat flared in the dark gaze, Jael's hand rubbing and

stroking, massaging their come into his skin. Quan felt the
heavy cock resting against his thigh throb and jump. “You
make me ache.”

Quan slid his hands along warm skin, touching, enjoying

the sensation of warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips. “A
good ache, I hope.”

“Better than anything I imagined, Quan.”
He nodded, understanding. “I dreamed so long of finding

the one who completed me, who made me whole. Of finding
you. But my dreams pale next to you.”

“So you are happy with the wind's choice? You do not

regret?” Jael's voice was soft, careful.

“I am happy, my Jael. My only regret was that you did not

also seem happy, but now... my only regret is taking so long
to find you.”

“You have me now and I do not think I can let you go,

Quan. You are mine, given to me by the winds themselves.”
Jael's fingers had reached his nipples, tracing and tickling.

He gasped, pushing up into the teasing touches. “It is

truth—I am yours.”

“Yes. Mine.” Jael dipped his head, nipping at his shoulder

with hunger. The fingers never stopped moving. “My One.”

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He arched up into Jael's mouth, body undulating, moving

between mouth and hands. “Will you take what is yours now?
Will you take me?”

“I... I have no wish to hurt you.” Jael's words were

tentative, but his body was sure, pressing close and needy.

“You will not. You cannot.”
“No?” Jael's hands slid down over his belly, gathering the

remainder of the cooling seed, fingers stroking against his
opening with short, teasing, exploring strokes. “Are you sure,
my One?”

“Oh!” He arched up against Jael, surprised and pleased

and aroused. “You've been talking to someone...”

“Mmm. Yes. Kaen helped me. I have no wish to dishonour

you with clumsiness and fumbling.”

He stroked his fingers along Jael's cheeks, tenderness and

love sweeping through him. “I would take all of you, in
whatever state, and thank the winds for you. That it is you
would make up for any awkwardness.”

The cheeks beneath his fingers heated, eyelids drooping.

“My One. You honor me so.”

He shook his head. “No,” he answered, hands cupping the

warm cheeks and tilting Jael's head until he opened his eyes.
“I love you.”

The green eyes brightened, filled with emotion that Jael

offered unselfconsciously. “I love you, Quan. My One.”

Hands sliding in among Jael's braids, Quan pulled his lover

down, bringing their mouths together in a kiss that sealed
their words of love into a vow. Jael rocked against him, lips
soft and hungry, fingers sliding gently against his opening.

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His hunter's cock was hot and hard, rubbing against his thigh.
He moaned into the warm mouth, butterflies dancing in his
belly. He was hard again, anticipation making him ready,
breathless. He wanted Jael so badly, had wanted him like this
for months. Ever since that first day when Jael had rescued
him from the bear.

The tip of one finger slipped just inside him, disappeared

almost immediately, and then pressed again. Jael was
careful—too careful, but the concern felt warm and good,
made him feel as if he were precious, wanted and needed. He
made a soft, appreciative sound and when the finger slid into
him again, he bore down on it, encouraging Jael to press it
deeper.

Jael's eyes widened. “So tight. You're so tight, Quan.”
“Think of how good I'll feel around you.” He let his hand

slide down Jael's stomach, wrapping around the thick erection
and closing his fingers tightly around it.

“Are you sure it will feel good for you?” Jael's eyelids

lowered, breath coming in short pants. “We don't have to do
that. No pain for you, remember?”

He stroked the thick flesh slowly. “It will feel good, Jael. It

will not hurt if you do it right.”

“It's the doing it right part I worry about. Kaen could only

explain so much.”

He cupped Jael's cheek with his free hand, thumbs tracing

gently along the scar Jael wore with pride. “I have a feeling
you'll be very careful and get it very right and it will be very,
very good.”

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Jael rumbled, pushing into the touch. “Oh. Quan. Your

hands.”

“You like it when I touch you, Jael? Does it make you feel

good?” He continued to slowly pump Jael's cock, while his
other hand gently traced face and chest. “I can feel myself
growing calmer, happier when you touch me, as if your hands
hold healing in them.”

“Your hands make my heart sing. When you touch my

scars, my skin—you make me feel fierce, as if there is only
you within all the winds.” The one finger within him became
two, slowly stretching him. “You make me need, my One.”

His fingers stuttered against Jael's skin and his body began

to move, undulating, rocking with the movement of Jael's
fingers. “I make your heart sing...” Joy filled him and he cried
out, body growing tight and his need growing urgent. “Please,
Jael, now. Take me now.”

Jael gave a soft sob, nodding against his shoulder. “Tell me

if I hurt you and I'll stop.”

Then the hot, seed-slick head of Jael's cock pressed

against his entrance for the first time. He moaned, hands
finding Jael's shoulders, holding tightly to the warm flesh.
“Please...”

Jael's hand slid beneath his hip, supporting and steadying

him as Jael slowly and so-carefully pressed within. He gasped
as the thick flesh opened him.

“My One.” Green eyes, open and stunned and aching with

hunger, stared at him, the dark outer ring shrinking to the
thinnest line. “So hot.”

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He cupped the bronzed cheek again, sliding his fingers

over the warm flesh. “So good, my Jael. So right.”

“Yes.” Jael's face pressed against his hand, Jael's cock

slowly sliding deeper and deeper into his body in short, gentle
pulses. “So right.”

He spread his legs wider, moaning at the burn as he was

stretched. He would be feeling Jael inside him for days. He
could think of nothing he wanted more. Jael's lips found his
jaw, tongue sliding over his skin, soft gasps and whimpers
filling the air. Finally, hot hips nestled against him, Jael still
and waiting, his body full of sweet hard flesh. He breathed
deeply, whimpering softly as even the slight movements of
his breath moved him around the invader inside him. He held
out as long as he could, never wanting this joining to end, but
at last he could wait no longer—he needed to feel Jael moving
inside him. “Please.”

“Anything you need, my One.” Jael's words were broken,

filled with soft sobs. “Anything.”

“Find your rhythm and take me, Jael. Make me yours.”
“Yes. My One. My Quan.” Jael licked and sucked along his

skin, muscles rippling as his hunter began to move. The
thrusts were long, slow, steady as the driving beat of the
heart that pounded within the broad chest, steady as the
need and care that sang between them. He cried out as Jael's
cock slid against the small gland inside him, hips rising to
meet the thrusts, hands moving restlessly over the broad
shoulders.

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“Good? Does it feel good?” Jael was groaning, throbbing

noises that grew louder as the slim hips pressed deeper and
faster.

“Moon above, yes.” The pleasure was pushing everything

else aside, his ability to speak, to think, to do anything but
feel it as Jael thrust into him. He gave in to it, letting it pull
him under like the current of a river. Rocking and pressing,
Jael took him, opened him up, reached inside him and
touched his very soul and treasured him, holding him tight
within clever, callused hands.

“I love you!” he called out as the pleasure became too

much and he dissolved.

Jael stiffened, hips thrusting wildly. The whispered “my

One” rang in his ears as heat filled him. He felt as if he were
floating on a cloud of gentle pleasure, anchored by Jael's
warm, solid body. He knew it would be good, finding the one
meant for him, but he had never imagined just how good it
could be. He wrapped his arms around Jael, keeping him
close. He would never let go.

The soft, satisfied rumbling came again, Jael's lips hot and

soft beneath his ear. Jael's braids fell around him, heavy and
silk-slick. Quan sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Lady
Moon for finally bringing him to the one meant for him.

“Love you, my One.” A soft kiss pressed against his jaw.

“My Quan.”

“Yes. As I love you.”
He shifted slightly, settling happily beneath Jael's weight.

At last, he was where he belonged.

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Chapter 10

He trudged into camp, two wild boar and a fine buck

strapped upon the travois, meat salted and pelts ready for
tanning. A string of geese bounced on Serne's side. A basket
of fish swished and swayed against his back. It had been days
since he was home, but it had been worth it. A good hunt. He
called out, greeting a brother as he entered the circle of
tents. Before long, the tribe came to take their share, trade
and bargain for the rest. Jael dealt with them easily, quickly.
Food was plenty and he would not have any of his own
starve.

His eyes moved over the camp restlessly. Speaking of his

own...

Where under the Winds was Quan?
Aklan came toward him, walking slowly, face sombre. Jael

felt a jolt of ice slide down his spine. “Di'ben nor, Aklan. You
bring bright blessings, I hope?”

“Di'ben nor, Jael. I have news of your ki'ita.” Aklan held

his hands out in a calming gesture. “All is well, he is merely
weary. A mi'it was found upriver, long dead and rotting, its
carcass fouling our water supply. Quan brought new water to
us.”

“Where is he?” Jael handed Serne's reins to a nearby set of

hands, heading towards their tents, worry flaring within him.
No pain. He would not have his One hurt, not for all the fresh
water in the world.

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“Give him my blessing and thanks once again,” Aklan

called out after him.

He waved his hand in bare acknowledgement. The ground

around the tent was unswept, perhaps for as long as three
days by the looks of it. He pushed inside the flap, blinking to
adjust to the dim light. “Quan? My One?”

A soft noise met his call and the furs moved. As he moved

closer, he could make out the slender form of his One, lying
twisted beneath the blankets. He tore off his vest and crawled
into the furs, calling softly. “Oh, my One. My Quan.”

His fingers smoothed away the blankets, hands searching

for skin. Quan was fever-hot, curling into him. “Jael. Oh, Jael.
So cold without you.”

He wrapped around Quan, one hand pushing his leathers

away so his One could share his heat. “Cold no longer, my
One. Let me warm you, Peacock. Ease your pain.”

As soon as he was naked, Jael brought them fully

together, his hands petting Quan's back in long, deep strokes,
lips brushing along the hot forehead, easing the tiny lines. His
One's restlessness faded immediately, the short breaths
growing longer, more even. “Missed you,” Quan complained,
only a hint of his usual waspishness in his tone.

“As I missed you, my One.” Jael rumbled softly, rolling

Quan beneath him, so he could touch the flat stomach, ease
the knots there. “I caught many fish, you could have slept
beneath the falls, bathed and rested.”

Quan pushed up into his touch, body undulating beneath

him. “I was needed here. The winds knew, kept me here.”

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“The winds must learn that I will not have my One hurt. No

pain, Quan. You have suffered enough for one man.” He bent
down, capturing soft, warm lips with his own. Whimpering
into his mouth, Quan returned the kiss like a man starving.
Thin arms wrapped around his neck, holding him close. Jael
let himself press close, feeding his One with his passion and
need and love. Slender hips pushed up against him, Quan
meeting him with a passion to match his own. One hand
moved down, cupped a rounded buttock. His tongue pressed
deep, devouring the clean water and sky taste as he pulled
Quan against him.

A low moan rumbled from Quan to him. “Need you so.”

The words were whispers that beat as loud as drums in his
head.

“You have me.” Moving quickly, he slicked himself with the

sweet oil his One preferred. He brushed a slick finger over
Quan's open lips, coating them with the honeyed mixture.
Bending to taste, Jael pressed inside perfect heat, needing to
replace pain with pleasure. Quan's mouth and eyes opened
wide as a sweet gasp left him. His One's hands slid through
his hair, one finding Quan's own braid in his hair and
wrapping around it, the other sliding down to his buttocks and
caressing.

He met Quan's gaze, watching the play of the tides within

them, waiting for Quan's body to relax, to move, to need as
he did. Tilting, Quan pulled him in deeper. “Please,” his One
whispered, the word translating the need that was growing in
the river coloured eyes.

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“Anything you need.” Jael began to thrust, pressing deep

into Quan's heat, body beginning to sing. “Anything.”

“Only need... one thing.” Quan was moving with him,

meeting each thrust eagerly.

“And you will always have me, my One.” He didn't tease,

knew in his bones what Quan needed, who Quan needed.

“Yes. Love you, Jael. My hunter.” The words were

punctuated by soft gasps. He bent his head, pushing harder,
deeper, sinking into his Quan, warming and pleasing and
loving his One. Quan's hand found one of his and guided him
down to the hard cock between them.

“So hot... hot for me.” He slowed his thrusts, matching the

rhythm of hand and hips, aching with sensation.

Quan writhed for him. “Needed you. Need you. So badly.

Oh! Please, Jael.”

“Until the end of time, ki'ita. There is no me without you.”
“Jael!” Quan shouted, body going stiff as heat spread

between them, flowing over his hand like water. He continued
to move, thrusting until his own pleasure poured into Quan.
Quan's arms wrapped around him, his One holding him tight.
“Oh, I missed you so, my hunter.”

“As I missed you. No pain. No pain for my Quan.” He

stroked and touched, keeping them close.

Quan sighed, curling into him. “Oh, Jael. Thank you. Thank

you so.”

“Shh... All is well, ki'ita. All is well.”
“I had forgotten how much it could hurt,” Quan murmured.

He moaned softly, the thought of his One in pain unbearable.
“Sh, sh, it's all right. You've made it all right.”

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“No pain. The winds made me to ease you, ki'ita.”
“Mmmm... then I am a lucky man.”
He chuckled, rocking Quan slowly. “Do you hunger? Have

you eaten?”

“I wasn't hungry, but I find my appetite for many things

returning.”

It was a fine pleasure to lean in, whisper against Quan's

ear. “I brought fresh berries, my One.”

“Oh!” Quan giggled softly and leaned up to kiss him. “I

could definitely eat berries.”

“And fresh cream?” He grinned, tracing Quan's lips with his

tongue.

“Are you trying to tempt me, my hunter?”
“Would I do that, my One?”
There was that giggle again, Quan's eyes dancing happily

for him. “You might.”

Oh, he lived for those sounds. “For those eyes? I might.”
Quan blushed and preened for him, that oh so pleased look

was good on his Peacock.

“My beautiful One.” He stroked Quan's braid.
Quan murmured and wriggled happily against him. “I

missed you,” his One said softly.

“Yes, but I am home now.” He relaxed, petting and

admiring.

Quan nodded and cuddled close. They stayed together,

resting and healing, the bond between them a tangible thing.

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Chapter 11

He scrubbed at his clothing, letting the river water take

away the soap and the dirt. He'd argued for three hours with
the tribal elders. They didn't want him using the river to wash
his clothing; he refused to back down. He would wash them
down river from where they took their drinking water, but
wash them he would. He was not accustomed to wearing
clothing that stank of sweat and a year's wearing.

He was not about to get accustomed.
He sighed as he wrung out one of his over robes. He knew

he was not making life easy for his Hunter, but there were
certain things he would not go without. Really, he was not
trying to be difficult, no matter what the elders accused him
of. He just needed to be clean, needed for his clothing to be
clean. It wouldn't hurt for the tribe to adopt some of his own
habits. He scrubbed furiously at his tunic, muttering slightly.

“Quan? Are... is there anything you need? I have some

furs to trade and could have more clothes made for you. Or...
or a washing tub?” Jael stood just upstream, hair bright in the
sun.

He shook his head. “I want to clean them. It would be

ridiculous to have new clothes every time the old ones got
dirty! I just want to clean them. There is nothing wrong with
that. Nothing at all.”

Goodness, Jael looked good in his leathers.

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“No. Nothing wrong with that. I was just finding out what

you needed. The pheasant will be in season soon. Bear too, if
I'm lucky. One or two bears would keep us for the winter.”

“So you're going?” He blinked back tears. “How long are

you going to be gone this time?”

“There's a hunting party leaving today, should be back

before the snows come.” Jael shifted, looking at the sky. “I...
I thought that perhaps I would stay behind this time. Hunt on
my own...” Those nervous eyes flashed down at him. “Hunt
with my One, if he would travel with me.”

“Oh...” Pleasure filled him, replacing his annoyance. “You

want me to go with you again?”

“If you would. Yes.” Jael came closer, settled on a stump

near the edge of the water. “We could enjoy the autumn. The
leaves will change. It will be lovely.”

He finished wringing out the last item and put it in his

basket and then went over to his hunter. “There is nothing I
would like more than to spend time with you, Jael.”

The smile he got was... well, it was stunning. Warm and

open and happy and it rocked him inside—they were
becoming more common, these honest, loving smiles offered
by his hunter.

“We don't need to leave right now though, do we?” He

took Jael's hand in his own, fingers sliding across the wide
knuckles.

Jael's fingers twined with his, smile widening. “No. No, we

don't.”

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“Oh good. It feels nice here, by the river, doesn't it?” He

leaned down and kissed Jael on the corner of his mouth,
tongue coming out to taste the edge of that smile.

“Yes. It smells fresh, warm. Reminds me of you.” Jael's

voice was husky, the roughness of arousal sliding over his
skin.

“Oh...” His face coloured. It was one of the nicest things

Jael had ever said to him. “Thank you.”

Jael's finger traced his cheek. “You're welcome, Quan.”
He nuzzled against the thick finger, turning to kiss Jael's

palm. Jael made a quiet purring sound, low and rumbling,
fingers curling to cup his cheek. He let his tongue play over
the veins barely showing beneath the skin of Jael's wrist.

“Oh...” Jael's gasp was soft, sweet. “I... I should wash

before I touch you, yes? I probably smell like... like me. Not
good.”

“No, Jael. Like you smells very, very good.” He smiled

softly. “Of course I would not say no to washing you.”

“Washing me? I would...” Jael leaned forward, resting the

wide forehead against him. “I would like that.”

He ran his hands through the long hair. “Come on then,

I'm in a washing mood.” He chuckled gently. “I promise to be
gentler with you than my clothes.”

Jael's laughter felt good, warm. “I would hope so, Quan. In

my experience, it is harder to remove mars from leather than
wool.” His hunter stood, tall and strong, riding leathers drawn
tight across strong thighs.

“You're supposed to take your clothes off, my Hunter.” He

let his hands run over the leather-clad muscles. So hard. So

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beautiful. He was almost purring as his palm slid past Jael's
shaft. Jael rumbled for him, pushing towards his touch,
moving for him, wanting him. He still could scarce believe it
some days, that his hunter yearned for his touch. It hadn't
been that long ago that Jael had denied they even had a bond
and yet it was a lifetime ago.

He continued to press against Jael's shaft, enjoying the

feel of leather and heat beneath his hand as he tugged at his
Hunter's vest with his other hand. Jael's fingers joined with
his, removing the leather that hid that broad chest and
rippled belly from his eyes. “Do I please you, Quan?”

“Oh, yes, Jael.” He let his hand trail over the warm

muscles. Jael's body gleamed in the sunlight and he traced
each muscle, his own shaft growing full, stomach growing
tight as need poured through him.

“So good, your touch. It sings within me.” Jael's fingers

brushed his bound hair, eyes questioning. “May I?”

“Oh. Yes, Jael. Please.”
Jael's hands were gentle, freeing his hair, green eyes

shining with arousal as the dark mass tumbled down around
him. “So beautiful.” He shook his hair out, smiling up at his
lover. The compliments made him blush lightly, made him
feel good deep in some part of him that he'd never even
known was aching. Jael's fingers smoothed through his hair,
petting and stroking. “Soft. Not coarse like mine.”

“Yours could be. If...” He blushed more deeply. “If you

washed it more.”

Jael grinned and chuckled. “Perhaps if you continue

washing me, I will learn to long for the practice.”

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The scarred cheeks flushed dark, eyes glancing away. Oh!

His hunter was flirting! He squeezed his hand over Jael's shaft
and started rubbing again. “Perhaps I shall continue. You
know how much I enjoy... washing.”

“I... I never understood the value of washing until it was at

your hands.” The cheeks heated again and Jael rumbled. “My
One.”

“Oh, yes, Jael. My Hunter. The one for me.” He stepped

forward, squeezing his hand between them and raised his
face for a kiss. Jael's mouth covered his, his Hunter's hunger
strong and sweet, tongue sliding over his lips. Hands
gathered him close, surrounding him with Jael's musk,
masculine and rich. His own hands slid around Jael's body,
the leather warm and supple in his hands. He cupped the firm
buttocks, moaning as Jael's body pressed closer. Jael
shivered, buttocks clenching in his hands. So tentative, so
careful, so much banked desire in his hi'icha, his Jael. “I love
you in this, but come, let us take them off.”

“Yes, Quan.” Jael's hands moved to open the leather laces,

heavy cock pushing free.

“Oh...” He murmured nonsense, eyes and hands feasting

on Jael's fat shaft.

Jael shuddered, groaning and straining toward his hands.

“Hot. Good. Quan, my One.”

“Come into the water so that I might wash you and then

taste you.”

“Oh.” Jael shuddered, sweet eyes fastened onto him like a

drowning man clinging to a branch. “Yes.”

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He drew his Hunter to the water, stopping only long

enough to bend and remove Jael's boots and leather
breeches. His own clothes were already wet from when he
was washing and he paid them no heed, the water and soft
material flowing around him, comfortable and easy, like a
second skin. Jael was comfortable in the water, nipples
tightening, muscles rippling. “You look happy. I like that.”

“You make me happy, Jael.” He laughed and dunked

himself in the water, coming up and spraying his Hunter,
making all that skin gleam in the sunlight.

Jael chuckled, moving toward him, leaning forward so the

heavy golden hair dragged in the river. The green eyes were
shining at him, for him. “Ah, my Quan wishes to play...”

Then Jael pounced, water splashing, wet, warm arms

wrapping around him. They went down together and he was
laughing as they came back up, clinging like a limpet. “Oh,
Jael—you make me feel young.”

“You are not old, my One.” Jael frowned at him, kissing his

temple, his eyebrow, his nose. “You will sing in my heart
forever. We will laugh together in the waters of the Land of
Summer until time ends.” Jael shivered, eyes dark and
needing, holding him so tight. “Ki'ita. My One.”

“Ki'ita...” He brought their mouths together, kissing his

hunter with passion. Jael moaned into his lips, meeting his
passion head-on, tongue thrusting deep, tasting him. He took
a breath and pulled, bringing them back down into the water.
The clear liquid surrounded them as they kissed, touching
them everywhere they were not touching each other. Jael's
hands pushed into his clothes, so hot compared to the cool

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water. He was becoming lightheaded, knowing nothing but his
hunter's warmth and his hunter's breath and suddenly Jael
brought them out of the water and he took a deep breath and
dove headlong into Jael's mouth again.

Jael groaned, tugging at his clothes, hips sliding, rough

and needy, against him. “Skin. Quan. Please.”

He stepped back and pulled at his clothing. Oh, he should

have taken them off before getting wet, it was taking forever
and he just wanted to be in his hunter's arms. Jael was
watching him with hungry eyes, water sliding over the
muscled body, down the thick, curved shaft, over the sweet,
heavy sacs. Whimpering he started to tear at his clothes.
“Jael...”

“Quan.” Jael started stroking the fat, dark cock, body

shuddering. Hips pushed the swollen flesh in and out of that
strong hand, his hunter growling low. “So beautiful. Need
you.”

Quan shuddered and gave up, pants still on, only one arm

out of his top. He dropped to his knees and leaned forward,
licking drops of water and pre-cum from the tip of Jael's cock.
Jael whimpered, thighs parting, a long, slow shudder rocking
the hard body. Quan cupped Jael's hips and nuzzled his
hunter's hands, pushing them away with his cheeks. He
nuzzled the hard shaft as Jael's hands slid through his hair.
So hot, so hard. So good.

“Quan. So lovely.” Jael rocked long and slow, sliding that

heated flesh against his cheek. He moaned and turned his
mouth to that heat, licking on the hard flesh as it slid by his

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mouth. His hunter whimpered, hands shaking. “H...hot. So
hot.”

He nodded. “You are, Jael. Like a fire under my lips.”
“Quan.” Jael's eyes were stunned, focused on him with a

dazed need, passion flowing between them. He kept the gaze
as he slid his lips to the top of Jael's cock and slowly closed
them over the tip. Jael's soft sob sounded so sweet. Almost
as sweet as the flavour of his hunter exploding over his
tongue. His hands slid over the firm thighs, feeling skin and
water and his hunter. He moaned around the full cock in his
mouth, happy with the taste and the feeling and the
knowledge that this was Jael he held within his mouth. Jael
slid over his tongue in tiny pulses of motion, almost invisible
pushes of hips into his mouth. He moaned, sucking hard as
his fingers searched for his Hunter's balls.

“Quan! Oh!” Jael's fingers tightened in his hair, the cry

fierce and wild as the flavour of skin and need upon his
tongue.

He cupped the heavy balls, head bobbing up and down

along the thick cock, searching for more of the needy noises.
He could feel Jael's balls tighten, feel the jerking of the flesh
upon his tongue. The bond between them was so new, so hot,
that nothing lasted long. Their bodies needed, souls rejoicing
at the simplest touches. He swallowed his hunter's seed, but
there was so much that it slid from his mouth as well,
dripping down his chin.

Jael was shaking, groaning as his hunter dropped to face

him, lips covering his in a hot, loving kiss. The water flowed,
cool and wonderful around them, Jael's mouth was hot and

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right on his own. Their lips only parted long enough to tug off
his shirt. Jael's tongue was pushed back into his mouth as
those hot hands pushed into his leggings and wrapped around
his shaft. He whimpered, hips moving his shaft through Jael's
hand. The play of cold water over the tip and the heat of
Jael's hand made him gasp. Jael's hand pulled and caressed,
rubbed and loved, sending him higher and higher.

“My One. Would you... I would feel you within me. Inside

me.” Jael's eyes were quiet, lips barely moving against his.
“Here in this place that is yours.”

Oh...
Oh! He cried out and came, spending his seed in the

water.

“That was a yes,” he whispered quietly. His shaft never

softened, the thought of being inside his hunter more
arousing than he could have imagined.

“My One.” Jael kissed each corner of his mouth, eyes never

leaving his, hand still moving slow and easy. “Yes.”

“Where? How? Here in the water? Is it low enough for you

to go on your hands and knees?”

Jael chuckled. “I don't know, Quan. Let's see.”
Jael backed up toward the bank, stretching his upper body

over a sun-warmed stone, shining and wet in the sunshine.
Jael's tight buttocks just crested the water, tempting him,
beckoning him.

“Oh, Jael, yes...” Quan waded through the water until he

was standing behind Jael's body, his erection sliding along
Jael's cleft. “Oh, Jael...”

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“Yes, Quan.” Jael rubbed against him, skin slick and warm.

“Yes.”

“I don't have anything, Jael. Did you bring oil with you?”

Disappointment filled him; he would not be able to be inside
his Hunter after all.

“In the little bag I wear at my waist. Traded two rabbit furs

for it. Smells like your soap.”

Tears came to his eyes. “Oh my hunter—you did this for

me? Oh, the wind has blessed me so.”

“I am your hi'icha, your ki'ita. All I am, all of me, is yours.”
He kissed the small of Jael's back and slipped from the

water, hands trembling as he retrieved the vial from the
pouch. The scent was pure and clean as he unstoppered it. He
hoped he would not drop it in the water. Jael was stretched,
braids gleaming, eyes watching him with a lazy hunger as his
hunter drank in the sun. If he hadn't already been hard, that
sight would have made him so.

He moved to stand behind Jael once more and slid an oiled

finger into his hunter's body. Oh, it was so tight and hot and
soft, like silken cloth. Jael moaned, the sound soft and
stunned and sweet, body tightening on his finger.

“Oh, my Hunter. So good.” He waited until the clutch of

Jael's body eased and then began to move his finger, glad
now he'd already taken pleasure, so that he could take his
time with this. Eventually his hunter began to rock back,
pressing against his finger, pulling him inside. His whole body
was moving with Jael, erection sliding along the back of his
hunter's thigh. So good. With a soft moan, he pressed
another finger in to join the first.

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“Quan... Can feel you so deep.” Warm and husky, Jael's

voice was a sweet seduction, full of quiet need.

“You're so soft inside, Jael. And hot and tight. Oh!” He

remembered suddenly and curled his fingers, sliding as deep
as he could, searching for—there!

Jael jerked, a sharp cry sounding, echoing through the

trees. “My One!”

He laughed, so happy to share this pleasure with his

hunter. He curled his fingers again, sliding them right across
that small point. The sound that was offered up to him was
bright, fierce, Jael's thighs parting for him, pushing back.
Asking for more. He could not refuse his hunter, he had no
wish to. He slid his fingers across Jael's pleasure spot again
and again.

Jael's back rippled, body rocking and shivering and

clenching. A dark flush crawled up the strong thighs, painting
his hunter's buttocks and spine. “Please, Quan. I need.”

“Yes, I do, too.” His fingers were shaking and shaking as

he coated his shaft with the oil, he stoppered the special
pouch and tossed it onto shore. Moving close, he pressed the
head of his cock at Jael's opening. “Oh, my hunter—are you
sure?”

“Please, my One. I need to feel you here, in this place.

You, ki'ita.”

“Oh yes, Jael, yes.” He pressed, amazed at the heat and

tightness. There was no way he would fit inside there, how
could it be possible, Jael was so tight. Jael pressed back,
moaning long and low, body taking him in, surrounding him in
heat.

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“Oh! Oh, my hunter. So tight, so hot.” He sobbed, pushing

until his hips were snug against his hunter's buttocks. Then
he lay against Jael's back, buried deep, the water lapping at
his balls, at their legs. It was almost more than he could bear.

“Ki'ita.” Jael's voice rumbled through him, a song. “My

One, inside me, around me. Oh, Quan. Did you know? Did
you know this?”

“Every time you are in me, Jael. And you, you are so tight

around me, so hot and soft like silk. Is this what you have
known inside me?”

“Yes. Made to protect you, to love you. My ba'chi. Ki'ita.

My One.”

“Yes, Jael. Oh yes, Ki'ita.” He kissed Jael's spine and then

began to move, his Hunter's body clutching at him, wordlessly
begging him not to leave. Before he was all the way out, he
pushed in again, sheathing himself in his hunter's body.

Jael lifted his head, back muscles rippling. “Again, Quan.”
“Oh, yes, my hunter. And again and again and again.” He

suited action to words, setting up a slow, exquisite pace. They
moved together, Jael's body open and needy, hips rocking
into him, husky groans filling the forest. The water lapped
against their legs, sliding against his skin, against Jael's skin
and they followed its rhythm, its call. The wind blew, catching
his hair, his hunter's hair, moving the water faster, speeding
them, moving them.

“Oh Jael...” He slid his hand around his hunter's body,

searching for Jael's shaft. Hard and full, Jael groaned at his
touch, body shaking. He slid his hand around Jael's shaft,
stroking in time with his thrusts. He could feel Jael's body

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tightening around him, muscles fluttering against his shaft.
Golden braids slid everywhere as Jael pushed harder, rocking
upon him. Hoarse cries sounded and then his name echoed
among the trees, heat splashing on his fingers. His hunter's
body squeezed him so tightly, held him as if Jael would never
let him go and he cried out, coming hard and deep into his
hunter's body. Jael was shivering beneath him, moaning
softly, making soft, purring happy noises.

“Oh, Jael... my hunter. So good.” He rubbed his face along

Jael's spine. “So good.”

“Love you, Quan.” Jael sounded serious, sure.
“I love you, Jael. Thank you—thank you for sharing your

body with me, your life with me.”

“Thank you for fighting for me, ki'ita, for believing.”
“Always and forever, my hunter. I waited my whole life for

you—I was not going to give you up so easily.” He moaned as
he slipped from the home he'd found inside his hunter's body.

Jael turned, moving into his arms, eyes damp. “Love you.”
“As I love you,” he whispered, standing on his toes to

press his lips softly against Jael's. The sun shone down on
them, the water lapped around them and his hunter was
warm and solid in his arms.

“Let us bathe, my One, and then go home and pack for our

outing.” Jael smiled down at him. “I would see the seasons
change with you.”

“Yes, Jael. The seasons and each other with them.”
“Yes.” Jael found the soap, lathering it between huge

hands and cleaning Quan's skin. He closed his eyes and let
the sensations wash over him. The large hands sliding against

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his skin, making him clean. The sunlight keeping him warm.
The water lapping at him, lapping at his hunter.

Most of all, he could feel his Jael's love, smooth and cool

and slick as the water, touching him everywhere, inside and
out.

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Chapter 12

He carried the tiny jar carefully, using his legs to guide

Serne back to camp. It was pitch black, the fires banked and
the tribe huddled in their furs, the breath of winter beginning
to threaten. The time was close when the hunting would be
scarce, when to head out in the blowing wind and snow was
foolish and simply not worth the risk. He and Quan had never
spent a winter together and Jael had no wish to spend the
long nights with an unhappy mate.

Jael looked at the jar in his hands. He'd found the little

fish, still and cold within a pool, long fins colored like his
One's eyes. When he'd touched it, it had twitched, colours
deepening, moving as if brought to life by his touch. He'd
gathered some water and the fish in the jar and turned
towards home, keeping it warm in his hands. He hoped Quan
would like it, understand the offering. Silently, he
dismounted, settling Serne before hurrying over to their tent,
fish held between his hands.

He could see faint light peeking from between the flaps,

could hear his One moving around as he drew nearer.
Carefully, he pushed through the flap, smelling icy rain on the
air and glad he had a warm fire and company awaiting him.
“Di'ben nor, Quan.”

Quan looked up from his books, a wide smile softening the

tight features, making him look younger. “Jael. You're home!”
His One scrambled up, coming to him.

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“Yes.” He grinned, letting his affection show, his pleasure

at seeing his mate. “I missed your company.”

Quan's smile grew wider, happiness making the green-blue

eyes sparkle. Leaning past the jar in Jael's hand, Quan slid his
hands along Jael's cheeks, hands warming his skin and turned
up his face for a kiss. Jael could no more resist the pleasure
and love singing between them than he could the desire to
breathe, not now that he knew Quan's flavour beneath his
tongue. He took a long, sweet kiss, moaning low at the taste
and feel of his One's mouth. Quan moaned, tongue sliding
against his, pushing eagerly into his mouth. “Jael. Come lie
with me among the furs.”

“Mm... yes.” His hands tightened around his gift and he

started. “Oh, wait! I brought something for you!” He held out
the clear jar, the fish swimming in circles. “It reminded me of
your eyes.”

Quan took the jar from him and looked down at the fish,

eyes full of wonder. “Oh, you're out late!” Quan slid his finger
through the water, stroking the fish.

“He was caught in a pool, woke up when I found him.” Jael

smiled, reaching out to push the silky dark hair away from
Quan's face. “You like it?”

Quan's smile was warm and full of love. “He's beautiful. A

small piece of the river while it's frozen over. Thank you.”

The slender fingers played for another moment with the

fish and then Quan placed the jar carefully on the flat rock
where their plates and cutlery were kept. Quan's eyes
twinkled when they met his own. “How can I say thank you
properly?

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Jael felt his cheeks heat, but he did not drop his eyes. “A

kiss, perhaps, my One?”

“Just a kiss? I think my pleasure at your gift is worth far

more than a single kiss, but it is a good place to start.” Quan
pressed close, hands moving, searching their way into his
winter layers until they found skin. His One tipped his head
back, mouth open, lids half-closed.

“Lovely.” He whispered the words into Quan's lips,

moaning at the scent of his one, so close, so right. His hand
cradled Quan's head, holding him close at their lips met.
Quan's mouth opened wide beneath his own, a soft moan
offered into him. The water-coloured eyes had closed, Quan's
nostrils flaring as the kiss deepened.

Hunger filled him, rising up through him like sap in the

tree and he found himself growling low, pressing into the kiss,
tongue sliding deep. Quan seemed as hungry as he, his One's
hands sliding up his shulders to hold on tight to him. They
stumbled back towards the furs, the winds howling outside
their warm tent, the ice and rain beginning to fall.

Quan moaned again. “Listen to your winds and my waters

blessing our union.”

“Yes. Our bond is true, ki'ita. No one can deny that.” He

pulled off his layers, eager to slide into the warm furs and
touch the skin of his One. Quan also began to undress, pulling
off his overdress and then the tight fitting tunic and leggings,
the thick socks that all served to keep the dirt and dust from
his One's body. Jael reached out to touch the pale belly,
stroking instinctively, easing the latent pain within. Quan
melted against him, eyes dark like water in the winter.

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“No pain.” He eased them down and cocooned them in the

softest heat. “No pain for my One.”

“Thank you, Jael.” Quan curled into him, hands sliding over

his skin. His lips explored the fine lines of Quan's face, so
familiar to him, burned into his spirit. Quan's fingers traced
his muscles, teased across his nipples and then slid further
down, dancing across his shaft. He purred, arching into the
touch, shivering with the sensation. Quan smiled at him and
then pushed him gently onto his back. His One began to
slowly kiss and lick a path from his neck down toward his
shaft.

“My One...” Each kiss burned, the sensation intense,

amazing.

“Mmmm.” Quan rubbed against his belly, cheek soft, and

then licked at his shaft, tongue hot, almost burning.

His cry was sharp, fierce, needy, shudders rocking him.

Quan murmured again and then took him into his One's
mouth, sucking the tip of his heat. It made him shudder, eyes
rolling, hips pushing up. He could feel sensations rolling inside
him, hot and rich and real as the winds. Quan settled, cheek
on his belly, head bobbing gently, sucking him into the warm
heat of Quan's mouth, lips sliding. His fingers carded through
the soft silk of Quan's hair and he purred, toes curling, heart
singing. Quan's answering purr vibrated around his flesh,
sensation settling in his balls.

“Oh, ki'ita. My One...” His hips moved faster, harder,

pressed deeper. One of Quan's hands slid down to cup his
balls, the other stroked his hip. The suction grew harder,
Quan taking him deeper and deeper. His orgasm poured over

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him, rich and sweet, wave after waves of pleasure. Quan
swallowed down his seed and then carefully set to cleaning
him, licking up the drops that had overflowed his One's
mouth. Jael panted, hands stroking Quan's hair. “Oh. Oh, my
One.”

Quan moaned and nuzzled into his hand, hips pushing heat

against his leg. Spreading wide, he pulled Quan up, offering
himself with a deep, hard kiss. Quan moaned, shaft sliding
along his hip as Quan pushed with more urgency.

“Yes. My One.” He shifted, Quan's cock nudging his

opening. “Yes.”

“Oh, Jael!” Quan shuddered, heat spraying against him as

those water coloured eyes went wide. Oh, his One made him
feel desirable, necessary. Whole. He purred, body hot and
slick where they rubbed together. Quan smiled down at him
and rubbed their noses together, breath sliding against his
lips. “Oh, my Hunter....”

“Yes, ki'ita. Your own.” He nodded, tasting Quan's

happiness. “Yes.”

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Chapter 13

The water swirled around Quan, cool and close upon his

skin—a lover sliding between his legs, no place too intimate
to touch. It was good. He was clean and wet and happy.

He dipped his hands into the water again, wetting them

and building more lather with the soap, which he began to
work into Jael's hair. He loved it when his hunter let him undo
the braids and soap up the long hair, washing it clean of dust
and dirt and days of riding and living. After they would sit in
the sun and he would brush out the long, thick hair and then
Jael would sing his songs he retied each braid. Then they
would make love, Jael's hair like a curtain, fresh and smelling
of the river around their kiss.

Jael purred softly, leaning into the touch, scarred face

turned up to the sun. He was smiling, rumbling and happy
and relaxed, hands sliding along whatever skin he could
reach. “Mmm, beautiful, my hunter. The water loves you.”

“Does it? All I can feel is your touch, my One.” Warm and

husky, full of sweet desire and caring, Jael's voice was almost
a physical touch, loving him with every word.

It made him warm right through and his hands slid from

Jael's hair to the bronzed skin, fingers sliding slickly over it,
leaving behind bubbles. He stroked over the broad shoulders
and then down to circle the dark nipples that rose in
anticipation of his touch.

“Oh...” Biting his bottom lip, eyes closing, Jael arched into

the touch. When Quan circled again, he moaned. “Tease.”

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Quan chuckled. “Yes.”
Leaning forward he pointed his tongue and flicked it across

the tip of one nipple, letting his soapy hands drop to slide
along the muscled abdomen and then over Jael's hipbones.

“Quan.” Jael shivered, hands moving over Quan's hair and

shoulders, encouraging and stroking. He could feel Jael's
shaft rise, growing hard, heat nudging at his thigh, his hip. He
blew gently, watching as the flesh around Jael's nipple grew
wrinkled, the hard nub becoming harder. He flicked his
tongue across it again and then took it between his lips and
pulled. A low groan, almost a growl, met the touch and Jael's
fingers tightened against him. The water lapped around them,
little waves that matched the gentle rhythm of Jael's hips and
the pull of his mouth. Sliding his thumbs along the crease
beside Jael's hip bones, Quan pressed close, sliding his own
erection along Jael's skin and then backed away again, mouth
playing the same come and go game with Jael's nipple.

“Oh, Quan... how I ache for you.” Jael stroked his jaw,

lifting his chin. “I need your kiss, my One.”

“Then you shall have it.” He pressed upward, mouth open

and eager to taste his hunter. Jael's arms wrapped around
him, pulling him close as their lips met. Hungry and fierce, his
hunter drank deeply, tongue and lips hot and necessary. He
moved back and forth against Jael, letting the bubbles spread
between them, making them slide slickly. Jael was hard and
eager, body pressing towards him. Strong hands slid down his
back, cupping his buttocks and squeezing.

Burying his hands into the soapy mass of hair, Quan pulled

his hunter's head back and fastened his mouth on Jael's

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throat. He raised one leg, sliding his foot around the back of
Jael's thigh.

“My One!” Jael's cry echoed through the trees, wild and

thick with desire.

“Yes!” He bit down on the skin of Jael's neck, biting with

strength before gentling his touch, soothing the spot with
tongue and lips and breath. Jael was shuddering, growling
low, incoherent, desperate sounds falling from him. His hands
clutched against Quan's skin, finesse long lost to passion.
Quan slid their erections together, tongue and hips finding the
same rhythm and pushing it faster and harder.

“Quan, oh, my Quan, my love, my One...” Jael was calling,

sobbing his name, rejoicing in him. The sounds moved
through Quan, making pleasure ripple beneath his skin. His
own cry was breathless, Jael's name barely a word. Jael's
cries faded into a moaning whisper as he jerked and stiffened,
adding his seed to the water.

Quan continued to suck gently at Jael's neck, fingers

moving through the soap-slicked hair.

“Oh, you are magic, my One.” Jael's whisper was hoarse,

full of emotion.

“No, my sweet hunter, I can make magic, but at your

touch I become it.” He nuzzled close, his Jael warm and right
and good.

Jael's lips brushed over the top of his head. “I love you,

ki'ita. My One.”

“As I love you, Jael.” Jael nodded, leaning back so the

soap would rinse from the long hair. Quan's mark stood out,
dark and unmistakable in the sunlight. He traced it with his

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fingertips, a strange feeling working through him, making him
shiver. “Mine,” he said, giving the feeling voice. “Mine.”

Jael's eyes, green and hot and happy met his own. “Yes,

ki'ita. Until the end of time.”

“Yes.”
And that, he thought, just might be long enough.

* * * *

Quan was returning from Halik's tent, hands full of the

fresh, pale soap she made for him. Night was falling, the heat
of the day finally fading, a fresh breeze carrying familiar
voices through the air. Peering around the tents, he saw his
hunter, surrounded by other warriors, tossing dice and
relaxing. Except—his Jael didn't look relaxed at all. In fact,
the green eyes were flashing, cheeks flushed. Suddenly he
heard a low snarl. “I will not allow it.”

One of Jael's brothers—Nukat, Li'kul, perhaps Radan, he

could never tell them apart—placed a calming hand on Jael's
shoulder. “Relax, Little Brother. No one means ill. It is well
known that Quan is a bit—difficult to deal with.”

Jael's frown deepened. “He is my One and I will not have

him dishonoured. Anyone who wishes to speak ill of him must
earn that right with me in the Challenge Circle.”

Another warrior, this one with three sets of scars and

multiple braids dragging the dirt, laughed. “Oh, leave the boy
alone. He thinks with his heart. It is the way with new ki'ita.
Just think, Little Jael, we had you bound with Naki and now
you defend the ba'chi as if he were your own.”

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“He is my own and he carries more than his weight within

the tribe.” Jael stood. “I am no boy, no longer. I wear the
mark of hi'icha. I will protect my Quan's honour.”

The older man stood and faced him. “Then perhaps you

should consider the trials of the nia'at itama, receive your
brands.” The warrior stroked over the deep grooves upon his
cheeks. “If you fail, perhaps your mouth will learn to silence
itself.”

Quan bit his lip, unsure if he should step forward or

retreat. In the end he decided to step forward, he had not
meant to eavesdrop but he knew that Jael would feel
dishonoured if he did not come forward now that he had
heard.

“What are these nia'at itama you wish my ki'ita to

undergo?” he asked as he stepped into the circle, standing
next to Jael.

Jael smiled down at him, eyes still sparking and fiery. “The

nia'at itama is the Guidance of the Winds, my One. A
warrior's trial.”

He smiled at his hunter. “And what have I done that my

honour needs to be protected?”

“We were simply riding the boy, ba'chi. It is well known

that your ways are not our own and concessions must be
made.” The elder warrior—Quan thought he was Is'orn, Jael's
uncle—grinned, dark eyes twinkling. “No harm is meant,
Quan. He is young and hot with the bond. Perhaps you should
accompany him on a hunt. Or perhaps he is hunting the
wrong game.” Is'orn dropped a slow wink, mischief shining
from him.

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“And I am old and hot with the bond. The game he hunts

is true.”

The group chuckled, Jael's cheeks heating and Quan heard

the muttered, “Not old, Quan.”

Is'orn nodded, pouring himself a cup of tea and leaning

back, grin wreathing his face. “Then it is a good thing our Jael
trapped enough bear and quail to excuse him for a rather
more private hunt, yes?”

“He certainly is an excellent and magnificent hunter, no

matter the game.” Quan wished suddenly that he had
something other than soap in his arms, he feared perhaps he
was just adding fuel for the teasing of his ki'ita, but it was
who he was and they would all have to come to accept it as
Jael had. Perhaps not quite the same way that Jael had.

“I am sure his... hunting skills are the envy of many.” A

set of dark eyes focused on him from beyond the fire. “We
hear his game is well-protected and rare. Perhaps that is
what is envied.”

Quan felt the low rumble move through Jael, vibrating

beside him.

Quan acknowledged the compliment with a brief inclination

of his head. “I am sure it is I who am envied in that regard. I
have the pick of the tribe.”

Is'orn chuckled again. “Ah, to be young and full of passion

again. Go, Jael, and take your ki'ita to the furs. I will discuss
the nia'at itama with Aklan and the Elders. If they believe you
are ready, we will come for you at the full moon.”

Jael nodded and took half of the bundles in Quan's arms.

“Di'ben nor, Is'orn, Brothers.”

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“Di'ben nor.” Quan added his own goodnight and followed

Jael from the circle, letting his hunter lead the way to their
tent. Jael's hair covered his bare back, swaying over his
leather leggings, laced tight on the sides, buttocks displayed
well, the leather holding each curve. Quan could see the
muscles rippling, Jael's frustration and tension playing along
the strong shoulders.

“You should see the view from back here,” he said quietly,

voice raised only enough for Jael to hear him.

Jael turned slightly, slowing. “We look at the same view,

Qua... Oh!”

The scarred cheeks blushed dark, Jael's steps faltering a

bit. Quan chuckled and sped just enough to lean up and kiss
one of the warm cheeks. “It gives me ideas.”

“Oh.” Jael gave him a quiet, soft kiss. “You have some

very interesting ideas, I've found.”

Quan grinned up at his hunter. “I'm glad you think so. You

didn't used to. You used to think I was old as well,” he
teased, letting his own hips sway exaggeratedly as he moved
ahead of Jael.

“It is a foolish animal that fouls his own bed and a more

foolish man who causes his One unhappiness.” Jael's voice
was husky, he could feel the weight of Jael's gaze.

He continued to move with the exaggerated sway, knowing

his outer robe hid some of the movement, hinted at the body
beneath. “Well, I liked hearing you say I wasn't old. I'd like to
prove you right this night.”

“Mmm... that sounds like a sweet challenge, my One.” Jael

rumbled, voice a rippling purr and suddenly his hunter's heat

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was close, seeping through his clothing. He sped up, suddenly
very eager to get to their tent. Jael took up the chase
immediately, the sound of slapping feet upon well-walked
ground following him close. He was slightly breathless and
laughing as he ducked under the tent flap, throwing his
bundle of soap into a corner, uncaring where it landed.

His hunter slipped in, close behind, chuckling low as he set

the soap aside. “I have you now, my One.”

“Do you?” He spun, flinging his arms around Jael's neck

and pulling him down for a fierce kiss. “Or have I got you?”

A hungry moan slipped into his mouth, Jael's lips meeting

his with equal intensity. Jael's hands landed hard on his lower
back and neck, pulling and pressing. Quan was hard and
aching already, body thrumming with desperate need as if he
were still a boy in the first bloom of manhood. He rubbed
against Jael, not even caring if he wound up coming in his
pants, his need was that strong. Fingers tangled in his hair,
tugging the braid free, lifting his chin to allow Jael's kiss to
deepen, his body arching more firmly against the hard body
of his hunter. Moaning, he buried his own fingers in Jael's
hair, his right hand automatically finding his braid among the
others, wrapping around it. Jael's hips began to thrust
rhythmically against him, hand curving over his hip, fingers
digging in. Jael's lips trailed across his cheek over to his ear.
“My One. So hot.”

“Yes. Hot. Good. More.” He was reduced to single words,

hips pushing urgently. It was so good, he couldn't stop
moving, pressing against Jael with all he had. Teeth sank
unto his earlobe, suction and hot tongue following

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immediately, Jael's hip motions beginning to stutter, body
searching for their pleasure. With a growl of his own Quan slid
his hands down to cup the leather-encased buttocks,
encouraging the rhythm that lived within their hearts.

Jael sobbed, body matching his rhythm, hands and teeth

clutching and arousing. Then with a low croon, he heard,
“Now, Quan. Now.”

He let Jael's voice take him to the edge and push him over,

send him flying, his hunter's arms tight around him. He cried
out, Jael's name torn from him as his seed pulsed from his
body. When the tent stopped spinning, the world putting itself
back to rights, Jael's teeth were sliding slow along his
shoulder, soft, sated sounds pouring over his skin. He
laughed, delight and joy and amazement in the sound. “We
didn't even get our clothing off this time.”

“‘s your fault, Peacock. Parading and teasing.” Jael nibbled

on his collarbone, slowly pushing him back toward the
bedding.

“Me? You were the one wearing the tight leathers, buttocks

straining to be free, and nothing else. I was merely reacting
to your display.”

“My display? Bah. Just because your eyes want to look

upon my body with need does not mean I am tempting you.”
Jael was grinning, sinking into soft furs and tugging on his
hand. “Come Peacock, let me touch you.” He laughed and
began to remove his clothes, making a show of it. Jael settled
back, gaze warm and fond. His hand stroked idly up and
down the muscled stomach. “Mmm... my Peacock. Shedding
feathers for me.”

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He watched Jael's hand for a moment, letting it distract

him. With a shake of his head, he grinned down at Jael and
folded his outer robe, tossing it with the other dirty clothes.
“Just because your eyes want to look upon my body with
need does not mean I am shedding my feathers for you.”

That earned him a playful snort. “No? Then for who, if not

for the one who needs you?”

“Well I am awfully messy here, maybe I'm just trying to

get clean.” The corners of his mouth twitched, but he
managed to keep his smile away from his lips.

A low purring, dark and dangerous and edged with hunger

sounded from the shadowed corner were Jael lounged.
Suddenly his hunter moved, crawling towards him on hands
and knees, eyes bright. “Shall I clean you?”

“Oh...” His stomach flipped slowly, making him sway. He

removed his inner layer with far less grace and finesse. “That
sounds like a fine idea.”

A hot, wet tongue slid along his ankle, traveling up his calf.

“Does it, my One?”

A soft shudder travelled through him. “Oh, yes.”
Heated lips and wicked teasing teeth traveled along his

inner thigh, Jael's hands sliding up along his hips. Then the
soft lapping tongue trailed over the curls on his sacs, the base
of his cock.

“Oh, Jael...” His hands slid into his hunter's hair, holding

on as is legs began to tremble.

The soft rumbling sounded again, Jael's mouth moving

over his shaft, the dark mass of curls, his belly. Moaning, he
let his head drop back, hands twisting in Jael's hair. His navel

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was explored and then each hip was kissed and licked and
nibbled. Again and again those lips returned to his shaft,
brushing and suckling for a heartbeat before moving away.

“Tease.” He hardly recognized his own voice, thick as it

was with arousal and desire.

“Not a bit. Cleaning, remember, my One?” A hot, sucking

kiss lingered in the hollow of his hip. “Just trying to help.”

His chuckle was rather breathless. “Help?”
“Yes. Keep the mess down.” Green eyes danced at him.

“You don't like mess, remember?”

“Mess... no, I don't like messes, you're right.” He chuckled.

“You're so good to me, my Hunter.”

“My One.” Lips still nuzzling at his stomach, Jael's fingers

smoothed over his skin, leaving heat and pleasure behind. “I
love you.”

“I love you, too, my Jael.” He turned Jael's head up,

looking again into the green eyes. “Take me to your furs and
love me.”

“Forever.” Jael backed away, still in his low crouch, leading

Quan the few steps to their furs. “Come to me, my One. I
need you.”

He knelt, pushing Jael back onto the furs and slid between

his hunter's legs, letting Jael support him, cradle him. Jael's
skin was warm and welcoming, slick with sweat. Jael rubbed
up against him, sensuous and sleek, like a great feline. He
found his hunter's mouth with his own, sliding along firm
muscles. Jael was so warm beneath him, so good and right.
Jael's cock, hot and heavy, rubbed against his belly, leaving a
wet, slick trail. He wanted suddenly to taste, to take his

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hunter's heat into himself. He slid slowly down along the
warm body, tasting as he went.

“Quan... your mouth...” Jael's belly rippled, groans

splitting the air. “Hot...”

He smiled against Jael's skin and continued to lick and

taste, slowly moving toward the straining heat that jutted
from between Jael's hips. Rich and male, Jael's scent filled his
nose, heavy clear drops slipping down to splash against his
skin, his lips. He licked at Jael's cock, tongue tasting,
discovering the heat and the salt and the silk.

“Ki'ita...” Those hips shifted, rocked, Jael whimpering

softly. “You called me a tease.”

He looked up and smiled into green eyes. “I'm merely

being thorough.”

“You're trying to dissolve my good sense.”
“Among other things.”
Jael's laughter was sweet, the heavy shaft bobbing against

his lips, teasing in turn. He licked at it again, moaning as the
salty flavour hit his lips, sharp and bright and his hunter.
Opening his mouth, he took Jael in. Jael's cry rang through
the tent, head thrown back as his hips pushed in, cock sliding
on his tongue. So hot! Like a brand, burning in his mouth. So
intimate, holding his ki'ita, taking him in. Making a soft noise,
he began to suck.

His hunter moved, cries pouring over him, need blazing

between them. One trembling hand cupped his cheek,
stroking and wanting him. “Ki'ita.”

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He turned to look up, shuddering at the look in Jael's eyes.

He whispered the words “I love you,” around the flesh in his
mouth.

“Love...” Jael groaned, then his hips began to move again,

thrusts coming harder, faster. Needier. He was torn between
holding Jael down and letting his hunter take what he wanted.
In the end, he could only open himself to his ki'ita, mouth
wide, accepting all that Jael had. It wasn't long before Jael's
hips began jerking, pressing into him, sharp cries heralding
the bitter seed that flooded his mouth. He swallowed until he
gagged, the overflow sliding from between his lips. Jael
groaned, rolling to the side and shuddering, tugging him
close. “My One... Oh... that was...”

“Hot. Good,” he murmured, wiping the evidence of Jael's

pleasure from his lips. “And you liked it.”

Jael blushed dark, nodded. “It was... Your mouth is so hot.

Sweet.”

He preened a little, rubbing against Jael, feeling very good

that he had done that for his hunter.His ki'ita curled around
him, purring softly, fingers sliding over his face, his
shoulders, green eyes bright and loving.

“I am sorry, Jael—that being my ki'ita brings you trouble

among your brothers. I hope that what we share between us
makes up for it.”

Jael tilted his head, smiled. “You are my ki'ita. My One.

Nothing can compare.” Pleasure and happiness filled him. “I
will not have you dishonoured by the others, ki'ita.” Jael
stroked his cheek. “I will take the nia'at itama challenge if it is
offered.”

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“It sounds dangerous.” It wasn't that he didn't believe his

ki'ita equal to the task, but he was loath to let him run any
risk.

“Hi'icha have died, but I will not. I have you to return to.”
“I know you will.” He brought Jael's mouth to his, kissing

his hunter. Jael held him tight, circling him with strong arms.

When the kiss ended, Jael pulled the furs over them. “I

have much need of you, to assure my strength, my skill.
Perhaps in the morrow we should ride, camp beneath the
stars. Swim in our cave pool again?”

“That sounds wonderful, Jael. Just you and me and the

water...” He shivered in anticipation.

“Tomorrow.” Quan was settled close, Jael lazy and sated

and warm next to him, his ki'ita near. “Rest now, my One.”

“You, too, Jael—you will need your strength for tomorrow.”
“Are you going to challenge me, ki'ita?”
“I intend to—just not in the warrior's circle.” He grinned up

at his hunter, fingers sliding down to tease the soft, warm
flesh of Jael's cock and balls.

Jael chuckled, bending down to nip at Quan's lips. “Sleep,

ki'ita, else you find yourself hunted again.”

He caught Jael's lips, taking a long, slow kiss. “In the

morning I hope I shall be. I love you, Jael.”

“As I love you, Peacock.”
“Good.” He settled against his hunter, happy, home, and

let sleep have him.

* * * *

They had come for him in the night, covering his eyes and

walking with him for more steps than he could fathom, the

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hands on him hard and bruising, the cries of his ki'ita fading
into nothing. When the walking finally stopped, his feet were
tired, cut, his arms bound with strips of leather. The voice of
Is'orn filled the air. “The winds will judge you worthy, Jael,
son of Di'lat. Will you accept the challenge?”

Jael nodded—fear and doubt filling him. He was no warrior,

simply a hunter. If he failed, his One would be left alone, no
one to provide, to protect, to ease that pain. “For my ki'ita,
the winds will lead me home.”

A cup was held to his lips, the scent bitter and foul,

poisonous. It took all his will to drink, to take the burning
liquid into him and feel it eat away at him. He was pushed to
his knees, his face lifted. He could feel the heat from the
knife, smell the smoke a heartbeat before the searing pain
rocked him, the scent of his own burning flesh making his
stomach roil. “You are a warrior, Jael, spirit offered to the
winds. Find your way home to your ba'chi, to your tribe.”

Then he was left behind, the late spring rains pouring

down upon him, the tears of his ancestors, his mother, calling
him into the winds. The poison of the tol'ach burned through
him, calling the ghosts of his past, the ancestors and living
who called him unworthy and unwilling, the fury of ages
pouring upon him. He bowed beneath their weight, beneath
their anger and fear and loss, wrists twisting in their bonds.

Beneath it all, beneath the wailing and howling of the

winds, there was another call—rich and clear and sweet as
the rain. “Ki'ita.”

* * * *

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Quan was miserable. He was tired and sore and worried.

Dirty. So dirty. And alone.

They'd taken Jael in the middle of the night, tore his

hunter from him. He'd tried to follow, but one of Jael's
brothers held him back, held him until the sun had come up
and he no longer tried to follow when he was let go. He had
not moved from his vigil though.

When the next morning found him still waiting, he headed

out in the direction Jael and the warriors had disappeared,
only to be stopped again, this time by Hali. “You have been
his staunchest defender, Quan, have faith that he is the
warrior you claim him to be. Have faith in your bond. He will
return.”

And so he waited. Tired and dirty. But he would endure

much more than dirt for his ki'ita.

As the sun faded on the second day, he heard it, a soft,

low moan, mingled pleasure and pain. “Ki'ita.” Jael stumbled
from the trees, face bloodied and blistered, fingers raw and
swollen from being bound.

“Jael!” He ran to his hunter, tears of relief blinding him.
“The winds have judged me worthy.” Quan could hear the

whooping and noise of the tribe celebrating as the news of
Jael's return spread like fire.

“Oh, my hunter, my warrior, my ki'ita.”
He tried to break the leather bindings from Jael's wrists,

but they were too tight. And they needed water and Hali
needed to look at Jael's injuries and they were both so dirty.
And he didn't care. Grabbing Jael's braid's, he tugged his

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ki'ita down and kissed him. Jael moaned into his lips, tongue
pressing deep, plundering his mouth as if starving.

He whimpered, holding on tight, the knowledge that Jael

had survived this for him heady. Hands were on him, on Jael,
trying to pull them apart and Jael growled low, green eyes
flashing, furious. He wrapped his arms around Jael's waist,
face buried in Jael's neck as he held on tight.

Jael stood, moving into the trees, backing toward the river,

fingers curled into his clothes. As soon as he realised where
they were headed he turned, keeping one arm firmly around
his hunter's waist as they stumbled together toward the
water.

It was Hali's hand that stopped them, a packet of herbs

and a knife pressed into his hand. “Cut his bonds and make a
paste of the herbs. They will ease his pain.”

“Thank you, Hali,” he murmured, clutching them to his

chest with his free arm. Jael simply snarled again and kept
them moving, pushing until they were stepping over the
smooth stones, the river water cool against his skin. As soon
as the water reached his thighs, he sank into the healing,
clear water, pulling Jael down with him.

Jael sank with a soft sob, leaning into him. “Ki'ita.”
He kissed Jael again and then took the knife, hands

trembling as he cut his hunter's hands free. The leather strips
were stiff and wet, but they were no match for Hali's knife,
those strong sure hands free in no time. He flung the knife
away toward shore and dunked the swollen hands into the
river, letting the water begin to heal his ki'ita. Jael hissed,

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fingers stiff and swollen, but moving. “I could hear you. You
called me home.”

“I waited for you, Jael. Waited for you to come home to

me. I knew that you would.”

His Hunter nodded, eyes bloodshot and wet. “I could not

leave you behind.”

“Good.” He had searched too long to lose his ki'ita to some

ritual with its poisoned herbs and test of endurance.

He cupped water in his hands, pouring it over Jael's face,

cleaning the dust from the cuts and blisters. The dark cheeks
were branded, the pale scars gone, deepened. The wounds
seemed to be healthy, though, the skin trying to heal. He
worked Jael's breeches off, thinking it was lucky he'd tossed
the knife or his impatience would have seen him cutting the
leather laces.

Jael moaned, eyes closing as the filthy clothes came off.

“The water feels good.”

He laughed and hugged his hunter so tight. “Yes, my ki'ita.

It does.”

Jael almost smiled, relaxing against him. “My One.”
He kept pouring water over Jael, speaking softly, telling

Jael of his vigil, of waiting and waiting and waiting for his
ki'ita and how it had been like the waiting his whole life had
been and how now they were entering a new stage where
there was no more waiting. The water washed the dirt and
dust from them, healing and cleaning, Jael's tremors fading,
one hand resting on his belly.

It felt good and right and now no one could say that his

ki'ita was only a hunter.

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He took Jael's hand and let him back to the shore. “Come,

Jael. Let's go home.”

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Chapter 14

Once summer had brought her bright sun and dry days,

Quan's gifts proved invaluable—the waters flowing bright and
free, the wells full, the tribe rich with water. Of course, rich
with water meant rich with challenge, one after another.
Tribal law stated that anyone could challege hi'icha, could
fight for the right to woo and steal a ba'chi away for their own
honor, their own tribe. And a powerful ba'chi with a hunter as
hi'icha? The temptation was too strong for any to resist.

Jael limped back to the tent, weary to his bones. This was

the fifth challenge he'd met since the spring rains had
stopped. It wouldn't be so bad, if the heat of summer wasn't
full upon them. But it was and Autumn wouldn't be for
another moon and he wasn't sure he could keep this up. He
stopped before the tent, panting heavily. He reached out to
lift the flap when he noticed the rivulets of blood slowly
dropping upon the dirt, making interesting star and flower
patterns.

Jael let his arm fall with a thud. Quan would fuss and

chitter for days if he came in like this. With a sigh, he turned,
heading towards the riverbank. He'd either bathe and come
home or find his hidden stash of furs and simply sleep there,
depending on how long it took him to make the trip.

“Jael?” He turned at the sound of his One's voice. Quan

stood at the entrance to their tent, holding the flap back, a
worried frown wrinkling his forehead. Quan tsked and came
toward him. “Look at you! Can't they just leave you alone? I

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don't want them. I want you.” Quan's frown grew as he drew
nearer and then, with a grimace, he slipped beneath Jael's
arm, supporting him. “Can you make it to the river with my
help?”

Jael tried to pull away, wincing as his torn skin burned and

pulled. “I'll be fine on my own, my One. You'll get dirty if stay
close, Quan. I'm bloody.”

“I know. I'll wash.” Quan laughed humorlessly. “Haven't

you told them what a poor catch I am?”

“Old and waterlogged and the loveliest man I've seen in a

lifetime. Yes, Peacock. I tell each one that comes for you.” He
smiled over, groaning as another ache made itself known. It
wasn't the challenges or the bleeding that worried him, really.
It was the knowledge that one day he would lose and his
Quan would be courted, wooed by another that tore at him.

“Flatterer.” Quan's voice was dry. “Come on, we're almost

there. There's a couple of bars of soap and a change of
clothes and some dried meat with your secreted furs.”

Jael stopped, looking at Quan for a moment. His One never

ceased to amaze and delight him. He reached up, tracing the
angular jaw. “Oh, my One. I would fight the winds themselves
for you.”

Quan nuzzled into his touch and then pushed him on

again. “I think we've got our hands full just fighting the men.”

“Don't forget that woman with the amazing thighs. I

thought she'd snap me in two with those things.” He hid his
grin, focusing on the act of putting one foot before the other.

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An exaggerated shudder went through Quan. “She scared

me. I have never been happier to see you win a challenge
than I was that you won that one.”

Jael chuckled. “She'll be back. I saw her watching you walk

the other night, watching the moon in your hair. She wishes
to give you many sons, my One.”

Jael did enjoy teasing Quan about the idea that he might

one day be presented with drooling, grubby fingered children,
mussing his clothing and dripping their milk upon his furs.
This time the shudder was entirely real. “That's not funny.”

“You would make beautiful children, Quan, but I am a

jealous man and will not share your affections.” He bit back a
moan as he stepped too hard on his torn thigh, the blood
flowing a bit faster, making his leg warm. “I cannot trust
another to protect you, keep you well.”

They arrived at the river's edge and Quan began to strip

him. “I do not want another to protect me. I do not want
children and I do not want to bed with another. You are the
one who makes my heart sing, Jael. You are the one that I
am meant for.”

“Yes. My One.” He watched Quan's hands move upon his

skin, enjoying the cool, smooth touch. “My Quan.”

The blue-green eyes looked up at him, more blue at the

moment than green. “Yes, Jael. Yours. You remember that
when you are challenged.”

“I remember it always. It beats within my heart.” He

swayed, caught in the fascination that was his Quan's eyes,
changeable with the moon, pools of turbulent water.

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Quan stood and braced against him, the frown returned to

his face. “Come into the water, let it work its magic on you.”

“Will it work on me? The water magic? I am no ba'chi, my

One.” Jael leaned against Quan, the world rocking beneath his
feet slowly. Quan smelled so good—sweet water and mint and
rain.

“It will make you clean and that will make me happy. It

will clean your wounds and then I can dress them. I think
maybe that's enough magic for anyone.” Quan walked
backwards into the water, leading him.

The water lapped around his ankles, then his knees, his

thighs, licking at his balls. Quan's eyes were focused on his
face, so blue. “You have beautiful eyebrows, my One. Not as
bright as your eyes, but so dark and so archy.”

Quan's frown deepened. “Maybe I should get the healer...”
“No. I'm tired, Quan. I need to rest and sit and stop

bleeding for a day or two. I need a day without a challenge
and my only concern when your next kiss will be.” He
crouched into the water with a sigh, forcing himself to focus,
to quit rambling. “I do not need the healer. With my luck,
he'd challenge me for you.”

Quan fussed over him, cupping his hands and pouring

water over Jael head and face. He was muttering below his
breath, Jael catching the occasional word of complaint and
worry.

“You're going to make your hair grey with worry, Quan.”

He reached out and stroked the thin stomach gently. “I'm
fine.”

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Quan pressed into his touches like a sleek cat asking for

more. “I do not like being the reason for your pains.” The
blue eyes met his, emotion strong in them. “I love you, Jael.”

“I love you, my One.” He continued the soothing, easy

touches. It was an addiction, the pleasure in those eyes when
he touched the fine, smooth skin. “So beautiful.”

Quan leaned forward and touched their lips together in a

gentle kiss. “Let me get your wounds bound before you
utterly distract me.”

Jael moaned softly, capturing Quan's bottom lip with his

mouth and sucking gently. “Distract you?”

“Jael...”
“Mmm?”
“You're hurt. I need to bind the wounds.”
“Yes, my One.” He nodded, tongue exploring the corner of

Quan's mouth, lapping and tracing. “Wounds.”

“You're cheating.” Quan was melting against him, his

soaked clothing between them, keeping their skin from sliding
together. “How am I supposed to resist you in the water?”

“Don't resist me. Touch me.” Jael took the kiss he needed,

hands loosening Quan's hair from its knot. “Taste so good.”

“You're hurt,” protested Quan a moment before his lips

closed over Jael's in a long, slow kiss. He murmured against
Quan's lips, mouth opening to invite his lover inside,
swimming in sensation. Tongue pressing into his mouth, Quan
began to touch him, hands warm beneath the cool caress of
the water.

“Oh...” He shivered and arched into the touches. How had

he resisted this pleasure so long? Why had he?

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Quan's hands slid over his skin, fingers finding his nipples,

already hard from the cold touch of the water, and tugged on
them, the sensation bright and warm. His eyes closed and he
gasped for air, cock filling even in the cool water. Quan's
touch echoed within him as he pressed into those teasing
fingers, begging for more. Quan somehow managed to pull off
his own clothing, even as he kissed and stroked Jael. Jael
wasn't sure how Quan did it, but his hands were very
appreciative, reaching out for the wet, smooth, slick skin,
petting and stroking. Quan moaned into his mouth, pressing
close.

His hands found the rounded curves of Quan's buttocks,

cupping the soft flesh, fingers pressing into cool flesh. They
rocked together, hot and cool and water and skin and hungry
lips all melded together in desire. Quan wrapped his legs
around Jael's waist, the water making his weight nothing. The
kiss continued, passionate and deep and better than any
medicine. He sank deeper and deeper into the water,
moaning and rocking against Quan's skin. The sliding thrusts
of Quan's tongue into his mouth were addictive, sweet and
hungry.

Quan's hands were everywhere, pinching his nipples,

stroking his belly, grabbing his buttocks, each touch making
him warmer, needier. The kiss grew sharper, his teeth nipping
at Quan's lips, testing the texture of the slick flesh. The
flavour shared between them changed, grew the edge of
wildness, fresh honey and blood and crushed grasses and Jael
moaned as time seemed to slow, his hunter's instincts alive
and focused on his One. Quan moved against him like he was

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a part of the water, fluid and sensual, hot and eager against
him. “My One. Need you.”

He pulled Quan's hips into his tighter, groaning against

Quan's swollen, open mouth.

“Here, I'm here.” Quan's words were mumbled into his

mouth, the slender body moving faster against him, rubbing
their erections together, so hot together. He arched, taking
another deep, long kiss as he came, drinking in the beauty
and pleasure and need that was his One. Quan moaned into
his mouth, growing stiff in his arms and more heat spread
between them to be stolen by the water.

His strength dissolved as his need ebbed and Jael slowly

sank to his knees in the cool water. “Love you.”

Quan's legs slid away, his One once again supporting him.

“And I love you.”

A soft kiss was pressed to his lips and then Quan was

tugging gently. “Come, my Protector. I need you to get to the
furs under your own power and then you can let your
weakness have you.”

“Not weak.” He couldn't see the sense in standing up. He

was perfectly happy right where he was, the water supporting
and cradling him. “Protect my One.”

“Yes, my hunter, I misspoke. I meant give in to your

wounds. You must heal so that you can meet the next
challenge. I will not accept another hi'icha.”

“No. None other can care for you as I do. I was made to

stand by your side.” He struggled and found his feet, letting
Quan lead him from the water. “One day they will understand
that the winds are with me and they will stop coming.”

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“My wish is for that day to come soon. I do not like it when

you are hurt.” Quan got him to the furs and settled him
among them. His wounds were quickly dressed with salve and
bound, Quan had become quite proficient at nursing him as
challenge after challenge was mounted and met. Warm and
sated and cared for, Jael relaxed, muscles unknotting
reluctantly. The salve smelled of mint and the spicy orange
flowers that grew around his grandmother Hali's tent.

“Will you eat?” Quan asked him as a fur was settled over

him, tucked carefully in on all sides.

“No, my One. I only hunger for your touch.” He worked

one hand free, stroking the still-damp skin of Quan's
stomach, comforting and comforted by the familiar touch.
Quan slipped beneath the furs, pressing close, hands sliding
over Jael's skin.

“Mm... tell me a tale of where you came from, my One.

Where were you travelling to when you found me?” He was
already half-asleep, entire focus on the motion of warm hands
upon his body. He didn't care what story Quan told, he simply
wanted the oddly lovely voice to fill his head.

“I was looking for you, Jael, though I didn't know it was

you until I found you.” Quan chuckled, his breath soft against
Jael's skin.

“How did you know? Why didn't I know?” He stroked

Quan's long, silky hair, letting the midnight strand fall upon
his face, his chest. “Why couldn't I see?”

“For so long I lived with the after-effects of the magic on

my own. I believed there was someone out there who was
meant as my mate, who could ease my pains and so I

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searched for that person. Every day was a small agony, each
one a little harder than the last, but I had lived for so long
with the need to be eased that I had forgotten how it felt not
to hurt.” Quan's hands stroked him more firmly, distracting
and soothing, his One knowing it was hard for him to hear of
even past hurts. “The first touch of your hand on me was a
balm, though I was so panicked from the bear I did not
realise it right away. But slowly you were undoing years of
tension and pain.”

“And now, my One.” Jael forced his eyes open, searching

the beloved face. “You have no pain, Quan? You are at ease?”

His One smiled down at him. “When you are near even the

magic is no more than a brief pinch, soon soothed away by
your smile. I had never dreamed I could feel as right as I do
now.”

“Good.” Jael leaned up for a kiss. “I love you, Quan.”
“I love you, too.” He was given another kiss and then

another. “Sleep now, my Hunter. Let time and your body heal
your wounds. I will watch over you.”

“My job... to watch...” He turned and nuzzled against

Quan's warmth, snoring softly as he faded into dreams of
endless oceans.

* * * *

Jael was smoothing the wood for yet another plate when

Quan came up to him.

“Would you tie me up?”
Jael blinked. Twice. “What?”
“If I asked you to tie me up, would you?”

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“Tie you up to what? For how long?” Jael frowned and

continued his sanding. “Is this some ritual from your
homeland, my One?”

“For sex. I've heard of the practice, it's supposedly fun.”

Quan tilted his head. “So would you?”

Jael shrugged, nodding. His hands moved over the wood.

“If you wish it, my One.”

“You would?” Quan was surprised, but pleased. “What if I

wanted to tie you up?”

A longer blink and another shrug. “If you wish it, but what

if you needed me and I were bound?”

Quan rolled his eyes. “Why would I need you unbound if

you were bound so that we could have sex?”

“Rampaging bears.”
“Rampaging... You don't have to get sarcastic just because

you aren't interested. You could just say so.” Quan turned
around and started heading back the tent, noting that the
little green and white lily of the valley were starting to spread
into the purple morning glory lilies. He supposed he should
take care of that, seeing as Jael obviously wasn't interested in
sex.

Hands covered his shoulders, stopping him. “I'm sorry, my

One. I didn't intend to offend. I was simply teasing you.” Lips
brushed across the top of his head. “If you want to tie me up,
I am more than willing to try. Any thing that leads to your
hands against me and the sight of your skin is a good thing.”

“What if I want you to tie me up? What if I want you to be

enthusiastic about it? Would that be a good thing, or will you
be humoring me?”

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“I would do whatever you ask, Quan. Whatever would give

you pleasure.” Another kiss landed and then Jael hugged him
close for a moment. “I love you, my One.”

“I love you, too, Jael. Go back and finish your whatever it

was you were doing. I've got gardening to do.” Jael's hands
fell away from his shoulders and the heat behind him
disappeared without a sound. Quan sniffed and kicked at the
dirt near the flowers. He didn't want to get his hands dirty.
Not with gardening anyway. Glaring at the flowers for being
so offensive, he decided to go for a swim. Turning, he headed
for the river.

The water was burbling happily, sunlight glinting off the

rolling water. A fawn and his mother were drinking, both
lifting their heads as they heard his approach. He trudged on
down, scaring them, refusing to be cheered or even mollified
by the beauty of the day and the burble of water. How dare
Jael just go? Just because Quan had told him to.

He sat down next to the river, glaring at the water, at the

sunshine, at the world.

He wasn't sure how long he sat before Jael sat a wrapped

bundle beside him. “Here's some bread and cheese and those
red fruits you like. I... we're low on food. If there was a bad
storm, we'd be in trouble. I'm going to go check the traps.”
Jael sounded older, almost like his father, with the teasing
laughter silenced in his voice.

“You're running away?” Quan blinked back tears. “Fine.

Go.”

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“Running away?” He heard the sound of skin slapping

against leather. “A'chaffa! I will live a thousand summers and
not understand your mind.”

“Especially if you go hunting or check the traps or run back

to your father and your brothers every time something comes
up that you don't understand or don't want to handle.” He
stood up and glared down at Jael. “You never wanted me
from the start. I should have taken the hint and just kept
going!”

Turning, he stomped off, the ground muted any sound his

feet might have made in a most unsatisfying manner.

A hand caught him, spinning him around, Jael's eyes bright

and furious as they bore into him. “I did not want you at the
start, but did I reject you? Did I send you away? Did I not
open my tent and my heart and my body for you? To ease
your pain, Quan? I tore my entire life apart for you. I have
bled for you, left my dreams and my sons and my way of life
for you. I have become near outcast in my clan.” Snarling like
a wounded beast, Jael let his arm go. “I do not run or hide. I
am hi'icha, marked by my own hand, blood accepted by the
winds and I will not be called a coward by you, Quan.”

“I didn't say you were a coward. I said you ran from me,

not something scary or fierce. And I'm sorry I'm so hard to
live with, I'm sorry I made your life a misery and tore it to
pieces.” He was fighting his tears now, mad and upset and
moon take it all he'd just been bored and curious and now
they were both upset. Bed suddenly sounded very good and
he turned back to the path home.

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“You terrify me, Quan.” The words were flat and quiet,

carried in the wind.

A shiver of hurt went through him and he turned around.

“What?” he managed to choke out around the lump of pain
and anger that was lodging in his chest.

Jael was standing, pale and almost shivering. “You are my

heart, the center of me. I try so hard to please you—I'm
supposed to be able to make you happy, make you whole—
and yet, I cannot. I have asked the sky again and again how
to save you from pain, where to step, what to say.” One tear
fell upon a scarred cheek and Jael slapped it away. “I cannot
bear the thought of your pain and yet, I am terrified at the
thought of losing you to another who might serve your needs
better.”

Jael swallowed hard, shaking his head. “When I swore

upon the winds to be yours, I meant it—first as my duty, then
as my joy. I cannot change what I was.” A long sigh sounded
and Jael turned, back hunched as he headed towards the
paddock.

“Jael... don't go.” He said it quietly, not quite a whisper.
Jael stopped, eyes full as he turned. “My One?”
“I'm sorry, I...” he shrugged and looked over at the river.

“I was bored and lonely and I'm not even sure what I wanted
from you, except a reaction I guess. You do make me happy,
Jael. More than I ever thought was possible.”

“If you were lonely, there is always a place for you in my

arms, Quan.”

“And if I am unhappy and upset?”

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A soft, wry chuckle floated over to him. “That is when you

should be definitely held within my arms.”

He took one step, and then another and another. He was

met halfway, as was his hunter's way. Strong, warm arms
wrapped around him and held him close. “Oh, my One. I love
you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered, burrowing into the warm

chest. His anger and frustration eased, Jael's presence
soothing and right. “I'm sorry, Jael, I know I'm not an easy
man to live with.”

“You are my One. I just want to make you happy.” Jael's

hands began to move, sliding slow and easy, relaxing him. “I
did not mean to hurt you.”

“You do make me happy, Jael, you do.” He wrapped his

arms around Jael's waist, holding tightly to his hunter. “I'm
not sure what I wanted earlier...passion maybe, excitement
that I wanted you, for you to be so overcome by desire that
you threw me to the ground and took me.” Quan shrugged.
“Silly, I know.”

Jael made an odd, strangled sound and when Quan looked

up, green eyes were blinking down upon him. “Passion, my
One? I ache for you. I wake in the night, throbbing and
hungry, touching myself as I watch you sleep. The need I
have for you bleeds through my dreams.” Jael shook his
head, tilting Quan's chin up and leaning down, resting their
lips together. “You should never doubt my hunger, Quan. I
want you.”

“Oh.” His breath quickened at the look in Jael's eyes, the

words making him hard. “Show me?”

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One strong hand cradled his head, the lips upon his

pressing hard. Jael's tongue thrust deep, the intensity of
anger and frustration morphing into passion. He was pulled
into Jael's body, hips rocking into him, his hunter's hunger
evident through leather and cloth. Opening his mouth wide,
Quan slid his hands beneath the light tunic Jael wore, finding
warm skin to stroke. A growl was fed into his lips, Jael
shuddering as the kiss deepened, stole Quan's breath, his
sense. The hand at the small of his back moved, sliding
against the soft material of his underclothes, rubbing rough
against his buttocks. He rubbed himself against Jael, body
throbbing urgently. Jael pulled away, panting harshly, hands
tearing off his tunic and moving to rip at the straining laces of
his leggings. “Skin, Quan. I need your skin. Now.”

“Oh! Yes, Jael. Skin.” He was distracted by the amount of

Jael's skin now showing, their sudden passion making his
fingers clumsy and he became tangled in his undertunic, the
long sleeves beyond him. He whimpered. Jael stepped
forward, grabbing the edges of the tunic and pulling, tearing
it off of him, followed quickly by his leggings. Then his hunter
pounced, pushing him to the grass and reclaiming his lips. His
mouth was open, his gasp lost into Jael's mouth. Wrapping
his legs around Jael's waist, he arched up into the strong
body.

Jael's thrusts against his body rocked him, one clutching

hand tangled in his hair, the other bruising and fierce upon
his hip. Need, passion and wanting—everything he asked for
was given to him, taken from him.

“In me,” he whispered, voice raw.

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Fingers were pressed against his lips. “Suck.”
He pulled them in, sucking vigorously, the flavour of wood

and earth and Jael filling his mouth, making him arch harder
up into the hard body, his movements graceless in his need.
Jael groaned, the sound feral and wild, and he pulled his
fingers free from Quan's hungry lips, moving to press them
deep inside Quan's body. “Sky above! Need you.”

Quan cried out as he was filled, Jael's fingers curling inside

him to make magic that was better than anything he could
do. Who needed water when he had his hunter? Jael's eyes
were hot, heavy as they watched him, sliding over his skin
like a blistering caress. He whimpered as the fingers slid
away, only to be replaced by the blunt pressure of Jael's cock,
insistent and needy, opening his body and filling him. He
pushed into the invasion, welcoming it, wanting it, needing it.
Jael was in him and above him and all around him, his focus
narrowing to just the two of them. They could have been
anywhere or anytime and he wouldn't have known, it didn't
matter.

Jael didn't tease, didn't hold back, simply thrust hard and

deep, fingers moving to wrap around his cock and pump
firmly. His name was gasped, or maybe it was love or need or
One, but it didn't really matter, the sounds were all the same
and Jael was taking him higher and further, control and
finesse shattered into the sharper edges of need. He clung to
his hunter's arms, letting Jael take him to the sky and
beyond. He cried out sharply as he came, Jael's name sweet
on his lips. It didn't take long—perhaps a heartbeat, perhaps
ten—before Jael stiffened, giving a long, low groan, heat

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pulsing within him. Long hair, mixed copper and gold, fell
around his face, swaying as his hunter panted, trying to catch
a breath.

He tugged Jael down, needing to feel his hunter's weight

upon him. “Love you,” he whispered, breathless.

Jael pressed close, skin warm, muscles trembling. “Love

you, my One. I didn't hurt you?”

“No.” He stroked the warm, sweat-damp skin happily,

pushing away the fact he was lying on the dirt in favor of
enjoying Jael. Jael rewarded him with one of those soft, sated
noises that meant pleasure and happiness and utter
satisfaction. Bringing their lips together, he kissed his hunter,
taking his time, tasting the warm lips and wet tongue, filling
all his senses with Jael.

When the kiss ended, Jael's eyes looked as dazed and

pleasantly fuzzy as he felt. “Want to go bathe, my One. Wash
the grass off?”

“If you will bathe with me.”
“As you wish, my One.” Another soft kiss was shared

between them. “There is little I like more than your body,
naked and wet against me.”

“That is one of my greatest pleasures as well.” He smiled,

arching lazily, pushing into the warm, hard body above him.

His hunter's body pressed back in response, rocking slowly

until the flagging cock slid from his body. Jael looked at him
for a long moment and then smiled, eyes the oddest mixture
of thoughtful and determined. “Come, my One, and bathe
with me.”

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He cupped Jael's cheek, happy and sated and looking

forward to the heady combination of water and Jael.

Jael stood, scooping him up and carrying him towards the

river, leaving the memory of his frustration and unhappiness
behind.

* * * *

It had been a long, dry summer. The river went dry before

two moons had passed. Each new wellspring that Quan found
and coaxed to the surface lasted only days before the
relentless heat took it. The only thing keeping the crops going
was Quan's ability to pull water up from deep beneath the
ground. The hunters had been forced to go farther and farther
in order to find game, their forays lasting days and weeks
now. Jael had been gone for almost two weeks. It would have
been hard enough if he'd just been gone that long, but added
to it was the need for Quan to use his magic daily. Without
Jael to buoy him, to bring him strength and well-being, he
was becoming weaker and weaker and the pain was growing.

It had started as a small stone in his belly, but now he

could barely move. One of Jael's brothers would carry him to
where he was needed and any number of people had fussed
over him, trying to make him eat and drink. But he was tired
and he hurt and he just wanted Jael and sleep and love.

Nukat came to him again, carried him out to the parched

earth. One of the elders stood there, eyes solemn as he was
carefully set on the ground. “The last well dried up this
morning. The rains come soon, but not soon enough for the
old ones and the children. They need water now.”

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Nodding, he lay against the ground, cheek and palms flat

against the dust. He would have cried if it would not have
been such a terrible waste of moisture—he was so dirty, he
didn't think he would ever be clean again. He closed his eyes
and imagined himself sinking into the ground, searching for
the water. He was forced to go deeper and deeper, but at last
he found some, hidden deep inside the earth. He called to it,
teasing it to him. It was a long and slow process; he was tired
and used up. At last the water began to trickle from the
ground beside him and a cheer went up, people rushing to
the water to fill the jugs.

Jael's brother touched his shoulder. “I will take you back to

the tent once we have the water.” He nodded. Here, there, it
didn't really matter.

He watched as feet came and went, trying to ignore the

throbbing ache that moved through him.

He heard something that sounded like thunder, roaring

and rumbling and full of fury, growing louder and louder.
Then familiar arms wrapped around him, lifting him from the
ground, holding him close. “...give me a jug! You should be
ashamed. He was not given to you to be drained to dust! I
will not allow this!”

Oh, he had to be dreaming, hallucinating, but it felt so

good to be held in those arms again that he didn't care if it
wasn't real and he pressed close to his hallucination, taking
what comfort he could. The voice gentled, a kiss falling on his
parched lips. “Easy, my One. All is well. I have you now.”

For a fleeting moment he had tasted Jael on his lips,

almost believed it was truly his hunter. Tilting his head, he

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searched for another taste. Warm, hungry, beloved lips
covered his, tongue pressing inside, leaving the unmistakable
flavour of his hi'icha, his Hunter, his Jael.

“Jael...” He looked up into green-flecked eyes and a

shudder went through him. It would be all right now. Now he
could make it until the rains came.

“Yes, my One. I heard you calling for me and Sernes and I

hurried back.” Jael was walking, leaving the tribe behind
without a word, a glance. “Come, let's get you clean and fed
and ease your pain, my One. You should not let them drain
you so.”

“The children would have died,” he whispered, voice too

dry for real words. The pain in his belly was still there, but
confined now, the promise of Jael's touch keeping it from
being overwhelming.

“People die. It is the way of things. They should send the

warriors out to gather water, to find the places where the
water still flows.” Jael held him closer, hurrying toward their
tent. “They should not take too much and you should not
offer it, my One.”

“I'm sorry. Don't be mad, Jael, please.”
“Oh, my One...” Jael stopped and gave him another sweet,

healing, breath-stealing kiss. “I am not mad at you. Worried?
Yes. Come, let me help you.”

Then they began moving again. Sighing softly, he held on

tightly. Jael would make him clean. Jael would love him. Jael
would take away the pain and make him whole again. Soon
Jael had them inside the dim, cool comfort of their tent,
hands smoothing his clothes away with a focused

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determination. As soon as he was naked, Jael spread him out
on the furs and stood, removing the worn riding leathers that
hid his hunter's body from him.

Then Jael took a cloth and a basin, pouring a measure of

the precious, clear water out. With a soft smile, Jael wet the
cloth and began to wash Quan's face. “My poor One. How
miserable you must have been.”

Gasping as the cool cloth cleaned his face, Quan gazed up

at Jael. “I stopped caring a few days ago. It just took so much
effort and the water so scarce...”

He reached out, hand sliding along Jael's arm. “You feel

good.”

“Mmm... your touch is magic, my One.” The cloth was

rinsed and wet again, then the dust was removed from his
neck. “Love you, Quan.”

“I love you, my hunter.” Now that the cleaning had

started, he was suddenly overly aware of just how dirty he
was, the dust in every crease of his skin, between his fingers
and his toes. He shifted restlessly.

“Relax, Quan. I will clean you.” Jael rinsed the cloth again

and began on one of his arms. “The clouds were gathering to
the north, pouring over the mountains. The rains will be here
soon and the river will run free and I will take you to bathe. I
will make love to you with the kiss of the water all around
us.”

“Oh...” A shudder rippled through him. His Jael and water,

making love to him together. He couldn't think of anything
better.

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The cloth moved over his fingers, wet and cold and so

good. “Yes, we will wade in deep, until the water lifts you up
into my arms and then I will hold you, love you, make you
moan. There will be nothing but you and me and the river and
pleasure.”

The knots in his stomach loosened with Jael's words and

his care. The fist of pain still sat in his belly, but he knew Jael
could make it go, Jael would make it right. He wanted to
make Jael promise he would never leave again for more than
a day, but he would not. Jael had only been doing his duty
just as he had. His other arm was cleaned, Jael promising him
sweet pleasures. Then his torso was cleaned, Jael's lips
following behind and kissing each bit of damp skin. His
hunter's lips were like the rains, dropping against his skin,
making him feel clean for the first time in days.

“My beautiful One. So giving. So strong.” Jael's words were

so sweet, pouring over his nerves, love and honour and
adoration in each tone. His groin was cleaned and his legs
and feet and toes. Then he was turned and his back washed.
He stretched and arched up into the soft touches. His
weariness was dissipating, cleaned away by Jael's presence
and care as surely as the dirt was. So carefully, so gently,
Jael cleaned all of him, even unfastening his hair and washing
it over the basin, hushing his concerns with a kiss. “Hush. You
need to be clean, my One. When we have you clean and
happy, then I will feed you and hold you and ease your
pains.”

The strong, sure hands moved over his stomach. “No pain

for you, my One. I will not have you hurting.”

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He curled over Jael's hands with a whimper, the strong

fingers finding the centre of his pain unerringly.

“Oh, my One.” Jael finished the rest of the washing quickly

and then settled close, pulling him into the warm body. Those
hands, those loving, insistent hands, found his stomach,
rubbing the pain away. He was rocked and stroked and Jael
was singing to him and refusing to let the pain stay—no one
had ever cared for him like this man. He wrapped his arms
around Jael's neck and soaked up the care like the earth
soaked up water.

Jael took a swig of the clear water, lips covering his and

offering him a drink. Sweet water filled his mouth, carrying
the flavour of his hunter with it. He swallowed eagerly, his
parched throat eased by the cool liquid.

“More?” Without waiting for an answer, Jael took another

drink, bending to press their lips together. He swallowed it
greedily, tongue sweeping into Jael's mouth, searching out
every drop. Jael moaned into his mouth, the sound harsh and
loud, his hunter's hard body pressing close with a shudder.
“Quan...”

“Need you,” he whispered against his hunter's mouth.

“More than water, more than breath, I need you.”

“I am yours.” The words were followed by another deep,

breath-stealing kiss, Jael's hand cupping his head. Jael's skin
was smooth and warm against him, arousing and good. He
was surrounded by his hunter, cushioned from the world by
Jael's love and care and body. He didn't want the kiss to ever
end, he had no need for breath—he had Jael. A slick hand
wrapped around his shaft and he gasped, surprised, as Jael

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slowly pumped him, the kiss never easing. He held on tightly,
arms wrapped around Jael's neck, unable to do more than
feel, the kisses, the stroking, the smooth skin against his
own. Everything but Jael was pushed from his mind as if none
of it had ever existed. He was spread out on his back, Jael's
body pressing down. His hunter's cock sliding alongside his
own, as Jael's oil-slick fingers surrounded them both. “Love
you, my One.”

“Oh! Yes, Jael. Love you, my hunter.” He pushed his hips

up into Jael, the slick hand and hot shaft pressed against him,
surrounding him.

“Want the rains to come. Want to take you to the river,

hold you in the water, feel you all around me, feel you well
and strong and happy.” Jael's voice was rough, body and
hand and shaft moving faster. He whimpered, gasping for
breath as he drowned in Jael's words, in Jael's body, his
hunter pushing him deeper and deeper into pleasure.

“My One, my Quan.” Again and again his name was

chanted, Jael singing for him, hard body shuddering, voice a
hawk's cry.

He looked up into his hunter's face, seeing love and care

and bliss, Jael's focus on him complete. Jael's love was
stronger than pain, stronger than drought. His own cry
bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him, joining the
sounds of his hunter's pleasure as he came. His hunter's seed
splashed over his belly, the hungry lips covering his in a kiss
as Jael shuddered and shook above him. Their bellies slid
together, slick with their pleasure, as he returned Jael's kiss,
matching hunger for hunger.

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He was cradled close, Jael licking his lips with a soft purr.

“Love you.”

He smiled, feeling pleasure all the way to his toes, Jael

pushing the hurt and weariness away with his love.

“Will you eat now, my One? Drink and rest and be well in

my arms?”

“I could eat a little,” he admitted. “As long as I don't have

to move from your arms.”

Jael's eyes twinkled down at him. “I believe I can reach

the berries in my pack without moving, Quan.”

He grinned up at his hunter, the smile pulling his lips up

for the first time in weeks. “You can, can you? I think I could
manage a few berries.”

“Oh, there is my smile.” Jael's eyes lit up, a kiss brushing

against the corner of his mouth.

His hands stroked over Jael's features, fingers sliding into

the long braids. “Always for you, Jael.”

“Yes, my One. As it should be.” Jael's tongue slid out,

licking gently, green-flecked eyes so soft. He reached out with
his own tongue, letting it dance with Jael's, touches gentle
and fleeting, their lips returned together again and again.

“You keep that up, Quan, and you'll not get any berries.”

Jael was hard against him, voice growing rough again.

“Your kisses are sweeter than berries and feed my soul,

Jael. I would take them over any other sustenance and thrive
happily.”

“Oh, I will work my entire life to deserve you, my One.” He

was given another kiss, so sweet and warm.

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“You already do.” He pushed up against Jael's hardness,

rubbing. “Make love to me, Jael? I need to feel you inside me,
filling me with your love.”

“Oh, my One...” Jael's lips fell to his shoulder. “Don't you

need to eat? To rest?”

“I can eat and rest when we are done.”
“You do not believe we are done?” Jael's voice teased his

throat as a single finger teased his entrance, tickling and
warm.

He moaned softly, trying to bear down on the teasing

finger, but Jael kept the touch light against him. “I believe we
are both eager for more.”

The finger disappeared, then after a few short kisses,

reappeared again, the tip pushing into him. “Yes, my One.
Eager for you.” He pushed down again, this time Jael letting
his body pull in the thick finger and he moaned as he was
slowly stretched.

“So tight. So good, my One.” The oiled finger pushed

deep, thrusting in and out easily as his body relaxed, hips
riding his hunter's touch. “More, Quan?”

“Yes, Jael. I want all of you.” He slid one hand around

Jael's neck, skin against his palm and silken hair caressing
the back of his hand. His other hand slid over Jael's hip,
caressing the muscled buttocks. A second finger joined the
first, Jael's spreading him, pushing deep, curling to spark
lightning within him. He cried out, clutching at Jael's skin as
pleasure moved through him.

“Oh, love the sound of your pleasure, my One.” Jael

moaned, thrusting against his thigh, cock painting a wet, hot

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line upon his skin. Moaning softly, he moved with Jael's
fingers, loving the feeling of them stretching him, preparing
him for the thick heat that was to come.

The fingers slid from his body, leaving him empty and

gasping for a moment until the pressure of Jael's cock
pressed into him. He slid his hands beneath his knees and
spread his legs wider. “Yes, Jael, please.”

“Yes. Skies above... so beautiful.” Jael sobbed, pressing

into him with one long, slow stroke, stretching him, filling
him. He arched beneath Jael, bringing as much of them into
contact as possible. This was worth any amount of weariness
or pain, this was what he lived for now, unsure how he could
have lived without it before. It was good and right and true,
the two of them joined, becoming one. His hunter was
trembling, staring down at him with heavy-lidded, quietly
stunned eyes. Holding still, buried deep within, Jael was so
close, so deep. “Missed this.”

He stroked his hunter's face, fine tremors moving through

him, centering on the flesh inside him. “Me, too.”

“Love you.” Jael turned his head to drop a sucking kiss into

his palm. Then his hunter began to move, pushing slowly and
steady. His hand slid into Jael's braids and he met each
movement with one of his own, hips rolling. He held the
green-flecked eyes with his own, watching the pleasure build.
Jael wore pleasure beautifully, colour warming the tan skin,
eyes darkening. One of the callused hands cupped his hip,
pulling him harder into each thrust. His shaft was pressed
between their bellies, rubbing with every movement. It was
so good, the in and out, the back and forth, the sweet sounds

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of flesh slapping together and the look of pleasure on Jael's
face.

Quan came, his hunter's name on his lips, in his heart.
The thrusts of his hunter's hips came faster, harder, their

grace lost. Before his pleasure had completely faded, Jael's
head snapped back with a sharp cry, heat filling him. Heat
filling him... love filling him... life filling him... pleasure filling
him... Jael filling him. He tugged Jael down, bringing their
mouths together, sharing his joy between them. His hunter
was everywhere, loving him with a determination and faith
that he'd never hoped for, never even believed in.

It might be a few days yet before the rains came and

flooded the riverbanks again, but there was no doubt that his
own drought was over.

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Chapter 15

Meals with Jael's family were always a trial. Even Jael's

grandmother, Hali seemed to be used to the noise and the
bickering and the need to eat faster than a herd of turit. Quan
however was not. He would not say anything though, not
when his Jael's cheeks were pink with pride, his many
brothers offering him congratulations on his many successes.

Jael had brought in more meat for the winter than the

tribe had ever had before. His hunter's furs would keep many
a babe warm this year. On top of that, he himself had
brought water for the tribe during a small drought and of
course Jael's family were congratulating Jael for having
chosen a mate so well, bringing honor to the family. Not to
mention the many challenges Jael had successfully won to
keep him. It felt good, to feel Jael's happiness and pleasure at
the rare chance to be the center of his family's attention.

Quan was tired though, and his head hurt and he was

hungry. So much noise, so many people. He slipped out of
the tent, searching for a few moments of solitude. He'd found
a comfortable, quiet spot beneath the moon and settled with
a sigh, when he felt a hand brush against the top of his head.

“Quan? Are you well?” Jael's voice felt good, warm—almost

as good as the knowledge that his ki'ita watched, knew when
he was gone, even in the crowd.

He looked up to smile in his ki'ita's eyes. “I'm fine, Jael.

Your family is just... enthusiastic.”

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“Don't you mean loud and rambunctious?” Jael took a seat

beside him, eyes twinkling, and handed him a bowl filled with
ripe berries. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Oh...” Love filled his chest and tears filled his eyes and he

blinked over at his hunter. “Thank you.”

Jael smiled and leaned forward, taking a kiss. “You're

welcome, ki'ita. Eat. The moon is lovely tonight, makes me
wish we were camping by my pool.”

“Oh, yes. It has been too long since we were last there.”

Of course, he would say that even if they had only just
returned from the pool. He took one of the berries for himself
and pushed the next one into Jael's mouth, fingers lingering
on the warm lips.

Jael nibbled on his fingers and nodded. “We should return

in the spring—spend a moon or two just swimming and
relaxing and blessing the moon.”

“Not before the spring?” He couldn't help pouting, wishing

they had one more chance to be alone before they were
settled firmly in amongst the tribe for winter.

“No, ki'ita. I have things I must attend to before the snows

fall.” Jael grinned, the look well-pleased and almost wickedly
satisfied. “But we will go at the first thaw, if you wish.”

He gave Jael a sharp look, but his ki'ita only continued to

smile at him. “The first thaw it is, then.”

He leaned against his hunter, slowly eating the berries,

occasionally feeding one to Jael. He made them last as long
as possible, not wanting to leave this quiet peace. Jael's hand
came to rest on his belly, fingers moving and stroking, the
action automatic, instinctive. Jael. It soothed his nerves and

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made his shaft perk up and pay attention. The big fingers
were warm and gentle and right.

“Shall we return to our tent, ki'ita?” Jael's voice was low,

rumbling in his ear. “They will not miss us and I have need of
you.”

“Oh! Yes, my hunter. Your need is returned.”
Jael's lips nuzzled his ear, his neck and then that strong

hand cupped his sacs. “Yes, my One.” The low voice was
almost a growl.

He whimpered. “If we do not go right now, I'm afraid I will

embarrass you, ki'ita.”

“If we do not go right now, I will take you beneath the

moon, make you cry out your pleasure for all to hear.”
Fingers moved behind his sac, teasing his cleft.

“Jael!” He arched up, body pressing into the touch, caring

not who might see them.

Jael groaned and stood, lifting him easily and heading

deeper into the trees, outside the firelight. “Need you.”

He wrapped his arms around his ki'ita's neck and his legs

around the thick waist. “Yes, Jael.”

Jael leaned up against a tree, hands hard on his hips,

bringing their bodies together with steady, strong thrusts. He
pushed his hands between them, working frantically on their
laces, undoing their breeches. Jael growled as their skin
touched, deep kisses becoming wild, almost sharp. “Ki'ita.”

He pushed his own breeches down as far as he could,

whimpering. “Wait, Jael. In me, please. I need you.”

“No oil, Quan. Ki'ita.” Jael's hips thrust upwards, body

desperate for him. Whimpering, he put his fingers in his

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mouth and then pushed his hand back, his spit-slick fingers
pushing into himself.

“Quan!” Jael's hands held him open, eyes wild. The thick

head of his hunter's cock bumped against his fingers. He slid
his hand over Jael's erection as he finished, spreading the
liquid that was leaking down along the shaft. It would have to
do—he needed.

“Now, Jael. Please.”
“Yes.” Jael pushed up with a sob, pulling him down on that

hard flesh at the same time. “My One...”

Jael's cock stretched him, the burn hot and hard, easing

quickly as his body grew accustomed to the girth within him.
Jael was shuddering, muscles jumping beneath his fingers as
his hunter struggled not to hurt, not to push too fast. He
kissed the soft lips, pressing hard. “Take me, Jael I am
yours.”

His mouth was parted by a pressing tongue as Jael's hands

began to move him, bringing him down so that he was filled
with that heat again and again. He moaned, legs clamping
tighter around Jael's waist. He was wanting and filled and
nothing had ever felt like this, nothing could make him soar
like his ki'ita. It didn't last, couldn't—not with Jael taking him
with abandon, Jael's lips moving over his skin. The thrusts
became harder, random, Jael jerking against him.

“I love you.” He spoke the words against Jael's lips, body

tightening around that hot cock as he came.

“My One. Yes.” Jael convulsed, pushing hard, filling him

with heat. He clung to his ki'ita, whimpering and nuzzling into

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the warm skin at Jael's neck. “Oh, ki'ita. Good.” Jael stroked
his hip, breath slowing. “Love you.”

He nodded and continued nuzzling, licking lazily at the salt

and pine flavour of his hunter's skin.

Slowly, their bodies parted, Jael setting him down with a

warm kiss. “Come, ki'ita. Let's go to our furs. Celebrate the
hunt in our own way.”

“Are you sure, my hunter? They are your family and you

deserve their praise.”

Jael smiled at him, eyes warm and so bright. “Ki'ita... you

are my family. Come home.”

“Oh.” The tears were back and the so full feeling inside

him. “I am with you, Jael—I already am home.”

Jael nodded and took another kiss, then wrapping an arm

around his waist, led them towards their tent.

* * * *

Quan finished folding all his clothes and moved on to the

pile of Jael's, muttering the entire while. When he reached the
last one, he realised it was a dark colour and needed to go at
the bottom, so he knocked the pile over and began again. The
furs would be next and then the dishes could use another
washing. Or maybe he could sweep... but that would mean
seeing Naki and her new mate.

It wasn't that he was upset that she a mate, it was that he

was like Jael in almost every way and if she wanted a Jael,
why had she tortured his Jael for so long, ignoring him when
he tried so hard to make her notice him. Then there was the
fact that Paelan, even their names were similar for the love of
the moon, liked to tease. They'd called him pernickety and

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fussy and he was sure they deliberately kept the pile of stuff
outside their tent there just to annoy him.

He had asked them to remove it several times, very

politely, only to have an elder come to him today and remind
him that how Naki and Paelan kept their home was not his
business. But it was messy. Where everyone could see. And
maybe he was pernickety and fussy but that hardly made him
a freak.

And Jael's pile was crooked so he knocked it over again,

rather viciously and began the process of folding once more.

Large, warm hands covered his own and lips found the

sensitive bundle of nerves in the hollow below his ear. He
hadn't heard Jael come in, hadn't noticed the warm—oh,
warm and naked—man creep up behind him.

“Hello, my One. Bright blessings.” Jael's voice was husky,

low and appreciative and full of pleasure and desire.

“Oh...” He let the clothes go and turned his hands into

Jael's, his frustration and anger melting away in the face of
Jael's love. He sank back against the solid body, let Jael hold
him and warm him and make the tight knot in his stomach
loosen and reform into something completely different.

Jael nibbled gently, fingers twining with his. “You have

been on my mind all morning, the softness of your skin, the
smell of your hair, the taste of you. I decided the wind was
calling me home, that our bodies needed to touch.”

Oh, he was hard and aching, just from Jael's words, his

hunter knew just what bait was needed to catch his arousal.
He tilted his head back, turning his face, searching for Jael's
kiss.

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“My beautiful One.” Jael's eyes were bright, almost all

green, as they admired him. The kiss was hungry, full of
passion, Jael's lips covering his, tongue tasting deep. He
opened his mouth wider to the sweet invasion, rubbing
against the solid heat of Jael's body. His fingers tightened
with Jael's, need singing strong and deep. One deep kiss led
to another, Jael turning him, pulling their bodies close
together. His hunter was hot, hard against his stomach,
rocking slowly and steadily in a rhythm old as time.

“Skin,” he murmured, hands sliding over Jael's smooth

muscles. “Me, I mean. Naked.”

He couldn't seem to get proper sentences out.
“Yes, Quan.” His clothes were smoothed away, efficient

easy motions slowed only by their reluctance to stop the
heady kisses and Jael's body herding him towards their furs.
At last he was naked, pressing tight against Jael, rubbing and
squirming in his lover's arms. His pleasure was doubled as it
sparked along his nerves, skin on fire wherever it met with
Jael's. Jael's hands were in his hair, pulling it loose, fingers
wrapping around the long, thin braid, decorated with dozens
of polished river stones and tiny bells. It felt delicious and
cool, his hair brushing against his back and buttocks,
encouraged by the sweet caresses of Jael's fingers.

“Make me feel so good,” he murmured against Jael's lips

before letting his tongue slide down chin and neck until he
could nibble at the join where Jael's neck met his shoulder.

“‘s why the winds breathed me into life.” The words were

groaned, Jael pulling them down into the slick softness of
their bedding.

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Jael's hands were everywhere, sliding and caressing,

cupping and petting, pulling him so close until Quan could no
longer feel where his skin ended and Jael's began. It was so
easy to let everything go in Jael's arms, to melt against his
hunter and just feel. Jael surrounded him, golds and bronzes
and coppers, molten and heavy. The universe, the sky,
everything was blotted out, decanted into sweet pleasure and
hungry kisses.

He let Jael lead them through this dance, letting the

pleasure flow from his hunter to himself and back again, his
soft moans and sweet whimpers blending with Jael's deeper
groans, making sweet music. Jael's mouth traveled down,
teasing a nipple, tongue sliding over the peak again and
again. Clever fingers rolled his balls within their sacs, the
combined sensations sending lightning and fire along his
spine. His moans grew louder, higher as Jael pushed him
toward ecstasy.

Suddenly those hungry lips slid down over his shaft,

sucking hard, a long finger pressing deep within him. He
called out Jael's name on a shout, body tightening, pleasure
shooting from him, convulsing around Jael's fingers. Jael's lips
drank him in, his hunter always needy, always searching for
his pleasure.

His hands dropped to Jael's head, tangling through the hair

and braids, finding worn for him easily and holding fast. “Love
you, Jael. Love you so.”

Jael purred against him, sweet, soft vibrations that meant

acceptance and adoration and so much love, given freely and
happily. He tugged gently, wanting to kiss his hunter, wanting

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to be filled by the solid heat of Jael's need. Lips traveled back
up his belly, his chest, his neck. Finally, Jael's eyes met his
and he was given his kiss, long and deep, flavoured with his
own desire. He spread his legs wide, tilting his hips in
encouragement.

“My wanton One.” Jael reached for the sweet oil, handing it

to him with a smile and a soft kiss. “Put it on me, Quan?
Make me ready for you?” Quan poured the oil into his hands,
the scent filling the tent immediately. He slid his hands along
Jael's cock, palms sliding slick and easy. With a whimper,
Jael's eyelids drooped closed, teeth sinking hard into the full
bottom lip as Quan stroked him. “Oh, sky and stars above...”

Leaning up, he licked across Jael's lips. “Wait for me, my

hunter.” He let the heat in his hands free, fingers sliding
around Jael to grasp his buttocks.

“Oh, I need... I feel you everywhere, beneath my skin like

an itch, but cool and sweet...” The words were moaned into
his mouth as Jael's body pressed close. Thick and hot, Jael's
oiled need slid against his opening, begging entrance.

He spread his legs further apart, bearing down against the

sweet heat. “Please... oh, please...”

Jael's arms slid beneath his shoulders, lifting him up. His

body slid onto Jael's cock, coming to rest atop muscled
thighs, as he was cradled against his hunter's chest.

“My One!” The shout echoed through the tent, proud and

happy and needy all at once.

He dug his hands into Jael's shoulders as he began to

move, writhing on the thickness inside him, his mouth finding
skin and sucking strongly. Jael's arms wrapped around him,

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thrusting up into him again and again. The air was filled with
dark groans, so needy, all for him. His own need was
growing, his cock sliding between their bodies as they moved
together. Jael's hand slid down his back, moving around his
waist, to pump his cock. Leaning back to balance the weight,
Jael slipped deeper within him, filling him, sending sparks
through his spine.

He shouted out, hands tightening on Jael's shoulders.

Raising his head, he searched blindly for Jael's mouth. The
kiss was almost feral, Jael growling into his lips. They rocked,
rutting wildly, clinging and pushing and devouring each
other's need. How quickly Jael brought him back to the peak
of pleasure, keeping him there this time. Nothing so intense
could last forever though. Jael stiffened, hand on his cock
tightening. The green eyes met his and Quan could see his
own face held within, surrounded by Jael, heat pulsing within
him.

He whimpered, pleasure rolling through him in a wave that

took forever to move through him and was over in an instant.
Seed splashed from his cock even as Jael's pleasure filled his
body. Held tight in Jael's arms, they sank down to the furs,
Jael's lips tracing his features, murmuring soft, guttural
songs. He nuzzled into the touches, enjoying feeling
treasured and cared for, loved beyond all measure.

“Been thinking, my One. Thinking a lot.” Jael's words were

muffled against his skin, his One's lips searching out soft
spots beneath his chin.

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He murmured happily, tilting his head back to give Jael

easier access. His own hands moved through Jael's hair,
stroking softly. “Thinking?”

“Mm-hmm. The plains near the river. There's a spot

nestled by the cliffs perfect for a little cabin, a little barn big
enough for three or four mounts. Good room to tan skins,
even a hollow log for smoking meat.” He looked up at Quan,
eyes serious. “Close enough to come in for gatherings, for
trading. Far enough that we can live free.”

His eyes widened, heart beating faster. “What about your

family?”

“You are my family, Quan.” Jael shrugged. “We will have

visits, meals together, hunting. I just... I think perhaps we
should have a space alone, where there is sun and water and
trees and us.”

It sounded perfect. For him. “Are you sure, Jael? That you

would be happy away from the tribe? You have lived here all
of your life.” He shook his head and gazed up at his hunter,
tears of joy that the offer was even made in his eyes. “I
would not have you do this just for me.”

“I do this for us, my One.” Hands stroked his cheeks,

caressed him. “The cabin is built for you, Quan. My brothers
and I finished it so we may winter there. It has three little
rooms and a hearth. Windows with shutters like you showed
me in your book. A barn for Serne and her babe and your
Helan, too.”

“Oh...” The tears spilled over and he buried his face in

Jael's chest, overcome. To live in a house, no more dirt for

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ground, surfaces he could clean and keep clean... “Are there
shelves for clothing, dishes, books?”

“There are shelves and a table in the cooking room. The

rest I thought we could make together, make it as we wish.”
Hands stroked over his hair. “You are my One, Quan, my
family. We will make our life together.”

“Thank you, Jael. It sounds perfect.” Wrapping his arms

around his hunter, he held him tightly. “When do you think
we can move into the cabin? I'll need to clean first you
know—not that I think you haven't but I'll be happier just
giving it a careful scrub. Is there a bed? Have I told you about
beds filled with goose feathers? They are so soft to sleep on—
with your skills we would have a feather bed in no time! And
a closet—Jael do you think you could make a closet where I
could hang my clothes?”

“Anything, my One. Whatever you need, so long as it

makes your eyes shine like dawn upon the river.” Jael
chuckled and bent for a kiss. “If you'd like, we can ride down
this afternoon, take some furs and some soap and sleep
beside the river.”

“Oh, yes, Jael—I would like that very much.” He pulled

Jael's head down for a long, enthusiastic kiss. Jael moaned
softly as the kiss ended, hands stroking along Quan's body in
long sweeps. Quan shivered, excitement and Jael's touches
making his cock twitch. Before meeting the one made for
him, he would have said he was too old to come twice, let
alone three times in a day, now it was nothing for Jael to
bring his body to ecstasy again and again.

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“Wanton.” The words were whispered, warm and teasing

upon his lips.

He laughed. “I just want to show you how much I

appreciate what you've done for me.”

“Mmm... Love you, my One.” Jael's hot tongue flicked out,

lapping at his lips. “Going to bless every room of our house
with your pleasure, sink your cries into the walls.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Messy, but fun.” He laughed

again, mouth closing over Jael's in an eager kiss. He pushed
himself up against Jael, proving his desire and need.

Jael rolled them over, pulling Quan atop him. with a

chuckle. “Life is often messy, my One, but good, very good.”

“Yes, my Hunter. Life is very good.”
Wrapped in Jael's arms, he leaned in for another kiss,

taking love, returning it, happy and living.

* * * *

Jael nodded distractedly at Naki and her mate as he went

to ready the mounts. They would ride together this time, take
what Quan needed and begin the process of finishing their
home. Their home.

Quan had been growing more and more unhappy and Jael

had finally gone to the Elders with his plan to leave, to move
their dwelling to the river. Many words had been said and
promises made. Finally, Jael had been charged with defending
the river, watching for intruders.

The building and planning had taken all his brothers, all of

whom were pleased, excited. A new place, a new thing,
almost a new tiny tribe of two, complete with horse, birds... It
was a bit scary, felt like it had when Quan carved the hi'icha

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marks into his chest, deeply unnerving and different, but
driven by the Winds and right. He readied Sernes quickly,
waiting for Quan. The look in his One's eyes had made the
fight, the work, the nervousness, all of it, worthwhile.

Quan came out of their tent with a pack, wrapping his

riding cloth around his head, leaving his face uncovered for
now. Jael smiled fondly. That would change as soon as they
were beyond the tribes lands and the sideways glances. His
One's eyes were blue as the sky at the moment, and shining
brightly like polished stones.

“Shall we ride?” He held his hand out for the pack, adding

it to Sernes’ tack and then helped Quan mount, setting
happily behind. As they left the village, Jael leaned forward,
whispering softly so only his One would hear. “Going home,
Quan. We're going home.”

Quan leaned back tighter against him, head tilting back.

His One's eyes shone with happiness and the softly spoken
reply was clear. “Home. Oh, Jael, yes. Take me home.”

The ride was peaceful, Quan relaxed against him, the

afternoon sun warm and bright. They chattered and planned,
Quan explaining in great detail the furniture they would need,
the trees that would shade his house, where the firewood and
dried meat should be stored. Jael nodded and listened,
drinking in Quan's excitement like sweet water. At one point
Quan removed one of his gloves and slid their hands
together. “I love you, my hunter.”

“I love you, my One.” Holding his life and laughter tight

against his chest, Jael pressed on, not stopping until they
crested the hill above the river, the trees thinning. The cabin

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was built with dark wood, nestled against a hill, Two windows
faced the river, another the rising sun. The barn and aviary
stood close together near the large flat area that would
become a paddock. They had worked carefully, using Quan's
books and their own large meeting houses to plan. “In the
back, there is a log for smoking meat. And the bin for wood
faces the hill.” He waited, stomach aching, for Quan's
reaction.

“Oh... Oh, Jael...” Quan tilted back again, tears in his eyes.

Quan took the face covering off his travelling cloth and kissed
Jael passionately. “It's perfect.”

“Welcome home.” He kissed Quan again, nudging Sernes

with his heels and they headed down. The river ran, bubbling
and hurried, the sound filling the valley.

“Oh, Jael...” Quan repeated his name several more times.

As soon as they were near, Quan slid from Sernes’ back,
hurrying toward the little cabin.

Jael watched him for a moment, enjoying the excitement,

and then nudged Sernes toward the barn. “I'll bring the packs
in after the horse is settled, my One.”

“All right,” came the absent reply, Quan walking around

the cabin, examining the walls, checking the windows,
opening and closing the shutters.

He chuckled, letting Sernes wander and find his way. The

barn was big enough for six mounts, or four horses and a
half-dozen goats, well-built and solid. Sernes settled in the
middle stall easily, nickering happily as Jael brushed and fed
and watered. “Happy enough here, then? This is a good place,
a good home.”

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He packed away the gear, stowing it on hooks hammered

into the wall, and then picked up the packs and headed in.

Quan met him at the door, flying into his arms. “It's

perfect!”

He wrapped his arms around Quan, bending for a kiss.

“You like it, then. It is a proper house?”

“It's better than a proper house—it's ours!” Quan laughed

and took his hand, pulling him in. “And so clean! You must
have spent an entire day cleaning—it won't take me anytime
at all to give everything a quick scrub.” Quan skipped in,
moving to stand by the hearth. “I've wandered around—now
show me everything.”

Jael laughed, nodding happily. “This is the main room. The

meeting room. In the Lodge, it is where people work and play
and visit. The hearth will give it light and warmth. I thought
perhaps your books could go on shelves here. I like the way
you can see the river through the windows.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely. And we can set the chairs in a

semi-circle here in front of the windows and then just turn
them around the hearth when people visit.” Quan tilted his
head. “I think we'll need at least eight chairs, in case your
brothers come together in clumps. Do you think you could
make one of the chairs big enough to fit two?” Quan clapped
his hands and bounced on the heels of his feet. “Oh! We could
put the chairs near the shelves on the walls, except for one
big enough for two in front of the window and one big enough
for two in front of the fire. I can make big pillows stuffed with
feathers—and smoked goose lasts all winter so it would be
okay if you had lots—we could trade the extra meat for the

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material—did you feel how soft the material was from the
tribe that came to trade a couple of months ago? They were
looking for meat, too.”

He nodded. “Yes, my One.”
His Quan was beautiful, excited and happy as a child, eyes

bright. He would make a dozen houses, create chair after
chair, to keep that look alive within his One. Of course, he
was going to need to trap on entire flock of geese and
perhaps a herd of deer to accomplish it...

Quan toured the room twice and then came and took his

hand again. “Show me the other rooms now, Jael.”

He led Quan through to the bright, open cooking room,

complete with shelves, a window, and a table. The hearth was
open, plenty of room to cook and bake, rows and rows of
wooden boards for the cookware and a long space for a
washtub.

“We spent the most time on this room. I know how you

feel about the dishes being on the floor, Quan.”

Quan examined all of it, fingers trailing along the shelves

and testing the sturdiness of the table. “Dishes, food—
everything will have a place.”

His One opened and closed doors, smiling as not one

squeaked and each sat squarely on its hinges. “Two high
chairs for in here, Jael, for the table. Now show me the last
room, though I have to warn you, I don't think I can possibly
be any happier!”

He led Quan through a little doorway and into a little room,

dark and simple. “This is for clothing, extra furs.” He hid his

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grin, this was his favourite room, and he couldn't wait to
show Quan why.

“Can you make me hooks to hang my clothes from?”
“Yes, my One.” He reached out and pushed a hanging cloth

aside, revealing a wooden ladder, built into the wall and
leading up. “Something like this, perhaps?”

Quan gave him a look. “This is a ladder, Jael, not hooks.”
“Perhaps you should see where it leads, my One.” He

followed Quan up, a grin covering his face. The upstairs loft
was bright, full of sunlight, the windows looking out over the
river. Furs covered the floors, creating a large, soft space to
sleep, to make love, to curl close to his lover and watch the
stars.

“Oh!” Quan took off his boots and walked through the furs,

turning in wide circles. Then he began to disrobe. “Come,
Jael. We must test it out.”

Jael blinked. “Again, my One?”
Quan looked at him from heavy-lidded eyes. “A gift such

as this must be properly appreciated and given thanks for.”

He chuckled and shrugged off his vest. “You appreciate it

much more, my One, and you won't walk for a moon.”

Quan chuckled and shook his hair out behind him,

displaying his body. “Is that a promise, Jael? I hope it is.”

He admired the way the light slid over the smooth, rich

skin. Black curls crowned the full cock, river stones decorated
the single braid behind Quan's ear. “You are beautiful, my
One.”

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“If I am it is because you make me happy and my

happiness makes me beautiful.” Quan smiled slowly and held
out his arms. “You make me feel young as well.”

Jael walked into Quan's embrace, purring happily at the

smooth, warm slide of flesh on flesh. Quan raised his head for
a kiss, hands sliding through Jael's hair, tangling with braids
and loose hair alike. Nibbling at the full lips, Jael let his
pleasure rumble through him. So good, the touch and taste of
his One, so right. “I love you, Quan. I did well? The house
pleases you?”

“The house pleases me almost as well as you do.”
“Almost?” He grinned, rubbing his nose against Quan's.

“So, you are not dissatisfied with the hunter the Winds made
for you?”

Quan chuckled. “You mean the one with the skin of gold?”

Quan's hands slid along Jael's arms. “And the muscles of a
sleek predator?” Quan tickled his belly. “And the lips like
rubies and eyes like fine jewels? “No, I am not dissatisfied
with the hunter the Winds made for me.”

“Oh.” He flushed, feeling suddenly shy, as nervous and

unsettled as the first time Quan had touched him, kissed him.
“My One you... you honor me.”

“Do I? But I have not yet spoken of the heart as large as

six men's put together and the smile as wide as any river, or
the prowess of a puta.”

“Quan!”
“What? Do you not believe that your smile is as wide as a

river?”

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His cheeks were flaming, embarrassed and flattered to his

core. “I am simply Dilat's seventh son. I look like my brothers
and they look like me.”

Quan shook his head. “Oh, I don't think so. I have seen

your brothers and not one of them moves me the way you do.
You are the one who makes me shiver and shake, who makes
my shaft hard and my balls ache. Jael... I love you, my
hunter.”

“I love you, my One.” He leaned down and stole the warm

words from Quan's lips, the kiss long and deep and sweet.

* * * *

Quan loved the new house. Especially the kitchen with its

shelves and drawers, so much room for everything, a place
for each thing. It was neat and clean and just right. He loved
cooking meals for Jael in the stone oven above the hearth.
And sweets. Like the honey and cinnamon bread he'd just
taken out. It smelled warm and doughy and sweet, filling the
whole house with goodness.

Jael was visiting his brothers, but Quan expected him

home at any moment and was pleased to have the house
smelling so nice for his hunter's return. He puttered about,
cleaning the last of the mess he'd made cooking, humming
happily. He heard Sernes’ whinny above the roll and bubbling
of the river, happy and familiar. Looking out of the window he
saw Jael—two... no, three ptarmigans in hand—heading for
the barn. The golden haired hunter caught sight of him and
waved, smiling warmly.

“Hullo, Quan! I came across some birds on the way home.

Let me dress them and clean up and I'll be right in.”

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“Save the feathers for me!” He nearly had enough for

another thick pillow to go on the double chair Jael had built
him. Then they could sit in it together.

He sliced the sweet bread, spreading fresh butter on

several slices. He put the plate of bread on the table along
with a mug filled with fresh milk. He'd cornered the goat all
on his own that morning and managed to milk her without
damage to himself, her or his clothing.

Before too long, Jael was walking through the door, braids

heavy and wet, naked as the day he was born, drops of water
still glistening in the golden curls nestled between his sharp
hipbones.

“I plucked the birds and gave the feathers a wash for you.

They're drying in the barn. You want a bird to roast tonight,
or should I smoke all...” Jael stopped, nostrils flaring. “What
smells so good and can I have some?”

Chuckling he moved to Jael's side, wrapping his arms

around his hunter's neck and kissing him thoroughly, letting
his clothing absorb some of the cool drops of water.

“Sweet bread with honey and cinnamon and there's a plate

waiting for you.” He took Jael's hand and led him to the table.

Jael followed, blinking just a bit dazedly. When Quan

pushed him toward a chair, he tugged and Quan was
suddenly perched upon muscled thighs, Jael grinning down at
him. “Smells good. Not as good as you.” Jael leaned forward,
sniffing at his neck, kissing and tickling. “But good.”

Quan laughed and bent his head to avoid the tickles. He

broke a piece off one of the slices, holding it up to his hunter.

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“Mmm...” Jael ate with hunger, nibbling playfully at his

fingers, eyes twinkling at him. “Yum. More, please?”

He picked up another piece, and then another and another,

feeding them to his hunter until there was only one left.

“Still hungry?” he asked, eyebrows arched.
He could feel Jael's eyes roaming over his body, hot and

happy. “Oh, yes, my One. Always.”

A shiver went through him in response. “Come and get it

then,” he said with a smile, popping the last piece into his
own mouth. Hot hands cupped his hips, pulling him close as
Jael's lips covered his own. The kiss was hungry—and happy
and warm and easy and familiar and everything he had
thought he could never have, all offered eagerly, love singing
between them.

He shifted to straddle Jael's lap, pressing his cock against

Jael and finding an answering hardness there. His arms
wound around his hunter's neck, fingers playing in the wet
braids. Jael moaned into their kiss, the sound rumbling up
from the broad chest. The hands at his waist moved, sliding
beneath his overcoat and along his waistband, searching for
skin. He wriggled, encouraging the touch even as his tongue
teased Jael's into his mouth

Jael's hands were warm, stroking gently against his belly

even as his hunter's tongue tasted him, thrusting lazily
between his lips. He could feel the hard thighs bunching and
releasing beneath him, steady and strong. He slid one hand
between them, moaning as his hand wrapped around Jael's
erection. He wished, not for the first time, that he shared his
hunter's predilection for wearing little, if any, clothing.

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“So good.” Jael nibbled against his lips, breath coming

quick. “Love your touch, your mouth.”

“Oh... good.” He wriggled his way off Jael's lap, taking one

last sweet kiss before he knelt on the floor, tongue sliding
across the top of Jael's cock.

“My One!” Jael's groaning cry rang through the house,

buttocks and legs tensing as he shuddered. Sliding his hands
along the thick thighs, he took the head of Jael's cock into his
mouth, sucking strongly. Jael's hands found his head, sliding
through his hair, stroking as sweet, broken sounds fell down
around him, shivering down his spine. The first salty-sweet
drops slid from Jael's heat, making him hungry for more and
he continued to suck eagerly, bobbing his head down to take
as much of his hunter's erection in as he could.

“Quan, oh my One, so hot, so good...” Jael's thighs

trembled as they clenched tight, hips jerking up to meet his
rhythm, muscles struggling beneath the weight of pleasure.
He murmured agreement around the flesh in his mouth and
let one hand drop to fondle Jael's heavy sacs. Panting, groans
constant, Jael thrust up into his lips. Shudders rocked his
hunter, pleasure and love obvious in every motion, every
sound. He slid his fingers back to tease at the soft flesh
behind Jael's balls, alternating the touches between that small
patch of skin and the heavy balls.

“Oh...” Jael scooted forward on the chair, offering himself

up to Quan's touch, cock throbbing steadily, flavor bursting
upon his tongue.

Quan slid his finger back further still, teasing over the

wrinkled flesh and pushing gently into Jael's body. Jael

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shuddered, stiffening for a breath. Then he began to move,
riding his touch, rocking between lips and hand faster and
faster. Quan hummed happily, finger curling deep. His name
was cried out, harsh and wild as a hawk's call, and then Jael
was jerking, filling his mouth with seed, body caught in
sensation. He swallowed the bittersweet liquid, filling himself
up with the flavor of his hunter.

The hands against his hair were trembling badly, Jael

gasping for breath. “Oh, my One. Oh...”

He suckled a moment longer and then let Jael's flesh slide

from his mouth. He put a soft kiss on the tip of his hunter's
cock before looking up to smile into warm brown eyes filled
with wonder and love.

Jael cupped his jaw, leaning forward to take a long, deep

kiss, tongue hungry and hot. “Love you.”

He smiled up at Jael, feeling happy all the way through. “I

love you, too.”

He was given another kiss, then Jael stood, pulling him to

his feet. “Come to the furs with me, my One. I wish to feel
you inside me.”

“Oh...” His cock throbbed against the confines of his

clothing and he pressed close. “As you wish, Jael.”

“Oh, I wish, my One. Come.” His hunter grinned at him,

the look almost wolfish, and then headed for the stairs, hips
swaying, braids brushing the tops of the round buttocks. He
almost growled as he followed, the sight making his passion
soar. He could see the tremor that worked up Jael's spine,
see the way the quiet steps sped towards the stairs. His
hunter really was eager for this. It was as welcome as it was

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surprising and he would not question it. He followed Jael
closely, rubbing against the bared flesh as they went.

“Are you hunting me, my One?” Jael's voice was low,

husky, just a hint of tease hidden within.

“I do believe I am,” he replied, voice thick.
They reached the stairs, Jael climbing quickly, looking back

about halfway up. “And will you catch me, my One?”

“I do believe I will—I've had a very good teacher.”
Jael blushed dark and smiled, waiting for Quan to catch up

to him before reaching down and twining their fingers. “I love
you, too.”

His smile grew until he could feel it down to his very toes.

Jael led him up the rest of the way, into the bright, sunny
room that held their bed—still covered with furs instead of
blankets, in deference to Jael's insistence that furs belonged
where people slept, but a real bed, nonetheless—and turned
to offer another kiss. He took it eagerly, mouth opening wide
beneath his hunter's, tongue tangling with Jael's as he
pressed close, rubbing against the solid warmth.

Jael's hands worked his clothes loose, lips only parting to

pull over and under clothes off over his head. He moaned as
their flesh slid together, Jael all hard muscle beneath heated
skin.

“Hungry One.” Jael's hands cupped his buttocks, pulling

him tight. “So lovely.”

“I am hungry, Jael. So hungry for you.” He rubbed against

Jael's strength.

“Then take me, my One. I am yours.”

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He pushed gently, starting Jael back toward the bed and

then pushing him down onto it. Climbing up, he straddled
Jael's hips, kissing his hunter hungrily. Jael arched up
beneath him, moaning into the kiss, hands stroking firmly
down his spine. He could feel Jael's cock beginning to fill
again, warm against his skin. His own cock was hard and
eager to feel the tight heat of Jael's body. He reached up past
his hunter, stretching for the pot of oil. Wicked, teasing lips
found his nipple as he stretched, teeth nipping and tongue
soothing almost in the same motion. A shudder moved
through him and he began to tremble, excitement, arousal,
and pleasure fighting for dominance. Jael's hands stroked,
pressing deep and warm into his skin as his hunter sucked,
pulling strongly at his flesh. He looked down into happy,
needy eyes, which grinned at him, full of pleasure.

His own pleasure and happiness doubled, his answering

grin wide and heartfelt. “Oh, my Jael, I love you so much.”

Jael leaned back, hugging him close. “As I love you, Quan.

You make my heart sing.”

“And the rest of you will be singing soon as well,” he

murmured, laughing happily against Jael's neck.

“What a delicious promise.” Jael was nibbling on his ear,

fingers counting his ribs, soft happy rumbles filling the air. He
laughed again, body sliding against Jael's, his erection
rubbing against the ridged abdomen. Dropping kisses as he
went, he began to slide down Jael's body. Jael was chuckling,
twisting slightly beneath his kisses. His hunter's skin was
warm, salty, the bright sweetness of the water still lingering.
He tasted the hollow of Jael's throat and then the skin over

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the hard breastbone. The nipples were next, light teasing
kisses bestowed upon each. Jael purred for him, the sound
light and happy. “Tease.”

He chuckled again and then took one nipple between his

lips, tugging as his hand slid down to hold Jael's thigh,
encouraging the strong legs to spread. Jael opened for him,
relaxed and easy, hands brushing his hair away from his face,
fingertips trailing over his cheekbones. He turned into the
caress, placing a sucking, open-mouthed kiss on the wide
palm. Jael curled up, knees and fingers holding him close. A
soft, sweet gasp sounded, Jael's head lifting to kiss his hair.
“Oh...”

He swirled his tongue in Jael's palm, fingers cupping the

heavy balls, stroking the silky flesh beyond. His hunter
undulated for him, arching and moving upon the furs with
lazy grace. He placed a final kiss against the broad palm and
continued to kiss his way down Jael's body. One kiss to his
hunter's navel, another on his abdomen, right above the
bronze curls, one for each hip, and then a soft, sucking kiss to
the tip of Jael's cock.

“Oh! My One... Please, Quan...” Jael's voice ached with

need, knees parted, hips pushing up against his lips.

Chuckling, he let his lips drag along Jael's erection as he

travelled down to place a simple kiss on each testicle. He
licked the soft skin behind them, all the way to the wrinkled
flesh where the tiny opening hid. His hunter stiffened, breath
caught short, body clenched for long heartbeats. He did not
often take Jael. A soft sob sounded, low and broken, and
shudders rocked Jael's body, hips just barely pushing up into

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his touch. He licked for long moments against the puckered
flesh, teasing Jael with sensation and himself with taste that
he knew would be stronger once he pressed in.

Jael was making sweet sounds of pleasure, body rocking

with each lap of his tongue. The strong thighs were trembling,
knees bent and spread wide. Hands sliding beneath the solid
buttocks, he tilted Jael slightly and pointed his tongue, letting
Jael's own movements begin the penetration. When his
tongue pressed against the tight ring, sliding inside, Jael's
rhythm stuttered, then began again, stronger, steadier.
Fingers ran over the crown of his head, stroking for only a
moment before disappearing back into the furs.

He worked with Jael's movements, sliding his tongue in

and out until all he knew was the rhythm they shared and the
heady musk of his hunter. Broken sounds filled the air, Jael's
words little more than incoherent sounds in the shape of his
name. His own cock was throbbing as he rubbed himself
against the furs until he knew he could wait no longer. He
found the vial of oil where it had been abandoned, and
unstoppered it with hands that trembled, slicking himself up
quickly.

“I need... please, my One... I ache...” Jael reached for

him, gaze burning and desperate.

Quan guided his shaft to Jael's opening and pushed. Oh,

his hunter was tight and hot and so good inside. Half
moaning, half sobbing, he pushed the rest of the way in until
his hips were pressed tight against Jael's thighs.

A soft keening filled the air, Jael's hands holding him tight,

tremors rocking through the strong muscles of his hunter. He

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bent to place a kiss on Jael's chest, still and waiting inside his
hunter.

“My One... oh, my One...” One trembling hand stroked

through his hair, a breathtakingly sweet caress, so gentle. “I
feel you everywhere.”

Pushing himself back up, he smiled down at Jael. “I am

inside you.” He wondered if he sounded as awed as doing this
always made him feel.

“Always.” Jael's body tightened convulsively and then

relaxed slightly, hips shifting beneath him. “My heart's song,
my One.”

“My love.” He began to move, slowly pulling out until only

the head of his shaft remained buried within Jael's body, and
then pushing back in again. He groaned as the tight heat
seemed to pull him in and hold him close. Jael's eyelids
drooped, but did not close, those green eyes fastened upon
him, drinking him in. He thrust again, another moan pulled
from him. It felt so good, Jael's body holding him so tightly.

“Quan...” Hands found his shoulders, Jael's body picking

up his rhythm, adding to it, joining them together.

He pushed into his hunter's body, again and again, so

many times he lost track, knew only the sweet, increasing
rhythm. Jael was heat itself, strength offered up in the quest
for their pleasure, body clinging to his with every motion. He
wasn't going to last much longer, Jael pulling his pleasure
from him. He wrapped one hand around his hunter's thick
cock and began to pull in time with his thrusts. Short, sharp
sounds fell from Jael's throat, body rippling around Quan's

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cock as his hunter arched, head thrown back, lost in
sensation.

Jael was so lovely in his passion and Quan couldn't hold

back any longer. With a soft wail he came, filling his lover
with his seed. An answering heat splashed over his fingers as
Jael groaned, the sound husky and almost pained. Collapsing
down onto his hunter's broad chest, he gasped, lungs filling
with air sweetened by Jael's sweat and come. Jael's arms
wrapped around him, holding tight. “My One.”

“I love you,” he murmured against sweat-slick skin.
“Love you.” Fingers trailed through his hair, stroking along

the braid behind his ear. “My Quan.”

Smiling, he placed a kiss against Jael's skin, the tang of

salt filling his mouth. “My Jael.”

Shaft sliding slowly from inside Jael, Quan sighed and

settled more comfortably against his hunter.

Jael shivered and then pulled a fur atop them, dropping a

soft kiss to Quan's temple, before snuggling back into the
mattress. “Yes, my One. Yours.”

He nodded as his eyes drifted closed.
He was home, in his lover's arms. Giving a long, happy

sigh, he was sure he could smell the scent of dough and
cinnamon.

* * * *

The trading had gone well—Serne was loaded down with

meal and cloth and honey and dried berries and tubers. There
were bright beads and ink. A piece of shiny glass. Soap. Lots
of soap.

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Jael was gnawing on a chunk of bread and cheese as he

crested the hill, looking down over the valley, their house and
barn surrounded by rust and yellow and orange dressed
trees, the river sparkling beneath the sun. It looked beautiful,
right, happy. Home. With a grin, he and Serne and the little
pack mule with her baskets of chicken headed down, five milk
goats trailing behind. Yes, the trading had gone well.

Quan met him at the barn, wide smile of welcome turning

into a look of amazement. “Jael! Look at all this.”

He grinned, flushing just a little with pride. “The trading

went well, ki'ita. Just think, milk and butter and eggs of our
own now, all winter.”

Quan beamed up at him. “Oh, Jael... bread and cakes and

omlettes through the cold months!”

Nodding, he pointed to the three bags of meal, pride filling

him. He would provide for his ki'ita. He would. “Yes, Quan,
and cloth for your chairs and for new cloaks.” He reached out,
pulled off a large sack and handed it to his One. “This is
yours.”

Quan opened it eagerly. “Oh! Soap! Real soap.” Quan was

practically vibrating, hand pushing through the large bag.
“It's all soap. Oh, Jael. Oh!”

He chuckled—the only other times he had heard his One so

excited was when they made love. He moved to settle the
animals in the barn, happy all through, and, to be honest,
more than a little aroused by the pleasure in Quan's voice.
“The trading went well, ki'ita.”

Quan trailed along after him, the bag of soap over his

shoulder, not touching anything, but obviously wanting to be

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near. Quan hardly ever came into the barn—it was dirty and
messy and made him fussy. He didn't dawdle, just worked
steadily sharing the news from the village, telling about the
odds and ends he'd traded for, stealing soft, gentle kisses
whenever he could.

Quan was vibrating by the time he was done and his

hand—his dirty hand—was grabbed by his ki'ita. “Come and
bathe in the river with me, Jael. Please. Now. I need you.”
The water-coloured eyes shone up at him, dark with hunger.

“Anything you wish, ki'ita.” He took one last kiss, this one

hard and needing, opening Quan's lips wide with tongue and
tasting deep. Then he backed away and pulled Quan towards
the water.

Quan finally put down his bag when they got to the river's

bank. His ki'ita was quickly naked and then Quan grabbed a
bar of soap and waded into the river. “Hurry, Jael. Even the
water's not the same without your touch.”

Jael stripped off his leathers, body responding to Quan's

need, cock hard and dark, sacs heavy. He stepped into the
river, the water halfway up his thighs, lapping at his balls.
Quan's hands, slick with soap, slid over him, washing, yes,
but touching as well, moving slowly, relearning his muscles,
finding good spots and stroking over them. His nipples were
washed most thoroughly, as was his belly, his navel and his
left side, just below his ribs.

His hands weren't still, either. He made sure they were

clean and then he pulled down that silken hair, cupped the
finely sculpted jaw, stroked the sweet curve of buttock. “My
One.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

251

“Oh, Jael. I missed you so.” One of Quan's slick hands slid

around his cock, the other going behind his neck and pulling
him down into Quan's kiss.

He groaned, tongue pushing deep as he lifted his ki'ita up

against him, hands curling beneath Quan's bottom. Quan's
legs came up around his waist, heels hooking in the small of
his back. Soft whimpers filled his mouth. He did not play, did
not wait, simply tilted Quan's hips and took what they needed
and pushed deep. Quan jerked against him and then bore
down, bringing him in even deeper.

He groaned, pleasure shooting up his spine. “Yes. Yes, my

One. I need.”

Quan nodded and gasped, hands sliding on his shoulders

as his One pulled himself up and started moving. Together
they moved, fast and hard and needy, the water splashing
around them. Quan whimpered and moaned, breath coming
in shorter and shorter gasps as the fingers on his shoulders
grew tighter, digging in. They were slamming together,
bodies shuddering each time they met. Jael arched, thighs
parting, thrust becoming deeper, stronger, so close he could
taste their pleasure.

Quan's mouth left his, his ki'ita's head going back as

Quan's scream filled the air, heat splashing between them. He
pulled Quan down upon his cock grunting and panting as he
found his own pleasure, seed pulled from him by the rippling
of his ki'ita's body around him.

Quan held tight, taking sweet, gasping breaths. “Oh Jael.

Welcome home, my hunter.”

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

252

“It is good to be home, my One.” He lowered them into the

water, stroking Quan's skin gently. “I enjoyed visiting, but my
heart called.”

Quan splashed his shoulders with water, getting rid of the

last of the soap and then lapped gently at his skin. “I am
sorry I have taken you away from them, Jael.”

“I'm where I belong.” Jael gave Quan a long kiss, relaxing

back into the water. “It was a very good trade, ki'ita.”

“Oh, yes, Jael—it was a wonderful trade!” Quan floated

with him. “You are the very best hi'icha any ba'chi could ask
for my hunter. The others would be so jealous if they knew.”

Jael shook his head and snorted. “You are biased, ki'ita,

but I am blessed with you regardless.

“Just because I am your ki'ita, does not make my words

any less true,” Quan told him primly.

“It is because you are my ki'ita that you are biased.” He

chuckled, letting the water carry them where it would. This
argument was familiar, old. Good. “I love you, my One.”

Quan nipped at his skin with sharp teeth. “Are you trying

to distract me from my argument, my hunter?”

“Yes, Quan. Is it working?”
His One's laughter was sweet. “It might be.”
“Wonderful.” His laughter met Quan's, twined with it,

carried into the sun in the sky by the winds.

It was good to be home.
—End—

Where Flows the Water

by Sean Michael

253

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