I remember a girl in my tribe who was missing part of her arm. She had not been attacked by an animal but had just been born with part of it not there. There were tiny nubs that looked like they were supposed to be fingers, but they were right at the end of her elbow. She always kept it covered up so no one could see that it was different.
Did Beh also have some kind of deformity? Is that why she wears such strange clothing over her legs, to hide a flaw? Maybe she’s afraid I won’t want her if I know there is something wrong with her. The girl in my tribe was usually alone; no one wanted to be with someone who looked different. Maybe Beh has been shunned by her tribe because she has something wrong with her, and that’s why she is alone.
The skin around my neck feels hot as I consider that she might have been mistreated. I don’t care if there is something wrong with her! If her legs look strange, or there is something else wrong with her body, I don’t care! She’s my mate, and I’m going to take care of her. She won’t ever have to be alone again.
I reach my hand out and touch the top of her leg as I look up at her.
“Beh,” I say softly as my fingers creep up her leg. I wonder if whatever is wrong is something I can feel from the outside of her clothes.
Her hand comes down and grabs at mine, moving it away from her and holding it next to my side before she lets go and points toward the trees again. I want her to know that it doesn’t matter—whatever is wrong with her, it doesn’t matter to me, and I will still provide for her. I try to touch her again, but she takes my hand and moves it away, making more sounds and eventually covering my eyes with her hands for a moment. She looks like she is going to start crying again, so I give up for now, drop down, sit on one of the larger rocks nearby, and turn my back to the lake.
As soon as she walks out of my field of vision, I don’t like it, not at all.
Beh seems pleased at what I’ve done, but she is now behind me where I can’t see her. How am I supposed to protect her? What if something in the lake tries to hurt her? I listen intently to the sounds behind me, closing my eyes and concentrating hard. I can hear the sound of her feet on the rocks and then the slight splash of water.
My breathing increases with my nervousness for my mate’s safety. I’m glad I can hear the water moving, but not being able to see her makes me feel anxious. My mind keeps coming back to the night of the fire and how I hadn’t been close enough to see it start or to get anyone away from the area before it all went up in flames.
Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and I glance over my shoulder quickly to make sure she is all right.
Beh stands in the lake with the water coming up to her knees. She is bent over and rinsing her arms in the cool water with her long hair lying in strands across her back. Some of it falls over her shoulders, and the tips touch the water.
I swallow hard, and I have no idea why she didn’t want me to see her before. There is nothing wrong with her, nothing at all. In fact, everything is right with her. Her legs are long, and I can clearly see the firmness of the muscles in her thighs. Above them her hips curve out sensually before her waist draws my eyes back in again. Her spine is straight, and she is absolutely, positively glorious.
When I first saw her, I thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman, and that was when she was wearing those weird clothes. Now that she is standing there with her back to me, leaning over...
I have to swallow again. I’m suddenly very hard and very much want to try to put a baby inside of my mate. It’s far more intense than the physical feeling I know I will have when I am inside of her. I want to see her stomach get round and know the child inside of her is one I put there. I want her to give birth to a baby that looks like her and me.
I don’t just want it. I need it.
As much as I need water and food and shelter, I need to be inside of her—I need to give her a baby. My hands shake with the very thought of it, and my legs coil under me, ready to stand and go to her, to take her right now.
Then she turns, and our eyes meet.
I know immediately that she is not happy.
Not in the least.
I turn away quickly, cover my face with my hands, and close my eyes tightly at the same time. I can hear her loud sounds behind me though she doesn’t sound as angry as she was before. I hear more splashing, more sounds from her mouth—including my name-sound—and the rustle of her strange clothing, but I do not turn around to look.
I will have to save my other thoughts and ideas for later when we are in our furs. For one reason, my erection completely disappeared when she looked at me like that; for another, I don’t think she would be very receptive right now anyway.