Twas the Night Before No-Poison Day Read online

  “Someone told I’rec about it, though, and he gifted Tia a

  cloak this morning. She’s been wearing it all day. He beat

  Sessah to the punch.” She shakes her head. “I know all is fair in

  love and war, but that’s cruel.”

  Poor Sessah. I know everyone thinks he and Tia are

  destined to be together because they’re the closest in age, but

  Tia seems to have other ideas. She loves to flirt with Shadow

  Cat clan, and the more attention she gets, the better. This is

  unfortunate for Sessah, because he’s utterly smitten with her.

  My heart squeezes in sympathy for him and I feel like an ass for

  even considering making K’thar a cloak. His gift idea was

  already stolen once. I don’t want to be the jerk that steals it

  again. “Young love is hard.”

  “He needs to resonate. Once he does, he’ll get over her. His

  obsession will switch to someone else.” The smile she gives me

  is thin. “Look at you. You and K’thar are happy as two bugs in a

  rug.”

  I grab her hands. “Which is why you have to help me think

  up a gift. I’m running out of time to make something.”

  She laughs. “A gift?”

  “Yeah. I’m totally open to stealing your idea, too. What are

  you giving T’chai?”

  Her expression gets sad. “I…nothing. I didn’t think about it.

  Me and T’chai…it’s difficult. Giving him a gift would give him

  hope for something I’m not sure I can give anymore.”

  Just like that, my anxious bubble deflates. I squeeze her

  hands tighter. “Oh, Mari. I’m the biggest ass in the world, aren’t

  I? I’m sorry. I’m so thoughtless—”

  “It’s fine. I promise.” She gives me another shy smile. “It’s

  just another day, you know? I’m sure if you don’t give him

  something, he won’t mind.”

  “I’ll mind, though.” I’ve been obsessing all week. Each

  time I’ve caught him furtively working on my presents just

  makes me feel worse, too. “And I know he’s giving me some-

  thing, so I have to give something back. I have to make it

  good.”

  “Lauren,” Mari says with a shake of her head. “It’s just a

  holiday. It’s not about the gifts, okay? It’s about spending time

  with those you love. You know the saying -- it’s the thought that

  counts.”

  “Tell that to my mate when I give him a ‘thought’ tomorrow

  morning,” I grumble. “It’s just…he’s so wonderful, you know? I

  want to show him how much he means to me. I’m just not good

  with gift giving. I overthink everything and then I get

  paralyzed.”

  “I don’t think he’d want that,” Mari laughs. “I think he just

  wants you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  “Then enjoy it.” She gives my hands a return squeeze.

  “Enjoy every blissful, resonating day and don’t worry so much.”

  I still worry, though. I smile as the tribe gets together around

  the fire for dinner, and Raven breaks into more Christmas

  carols. It turns into a sing-along from the humans, and

  Raahosh and Rukh produce a full-length sashrem tree and the

  kits decorate it as we watch, and Harlow cooks up the not-

  potato root of it for what she calls ‘sa-khui latkes’, which are

  tradition with the other tribe. The tree is sad and pink and

  flippy, so the decorations slide off the branches, and it makes

  me think that they must have traveled into the mountains to get

  it and bring it back, because no trees like that grow around

  here.

  It’s just another thoughtful, wonderful way the people here

  adapt to what they have and make it their own.

  K’thar pulls me into his lap as we sit by the fire, nuzzling my

  jaw. “You are quiet, my pretty mate.”

  I smile at him. “Just thinking.” I slide my arm around his

  neck…and immediately upset a nestling Kki, who squawks

  indignantly at me for touching him. “Whoops.”

  “He is cold,” K’thar says, grinning. “This place is always cold

  and he has no mate to warm him, so he must settle for me.”

  “Poor thing, having to settle for you,” I tease. “I know what

  that’s like.”

  He mock-growls and nips at my jaw again, one of his many

  arms sliding around my waist. He’s distracted, at least, and so

  I’m saved from having to answer him. The No-Poison celebra-

  tion goes on around us, everyone laughing and having a good

  time. Everyone except Sessah, that is. I notice him sullenly

  hovering at the edge of camp, a hangdog expression on his face

  as he watches Tia. Several of the women are working on chains

  of colored seeds for the children to hang, and I notice Tia sits at

  the edges, flirting with both U’dron and I’rec as she strings

  seeds. She’s wearing a white fur cloak over her shoulders, thick

  and puffy and cloud-like.

  It is a nice cloak. Poor Sessah.

  When it seems like every song has been sung and the food

  is gone and the kits in bed, K’thar and I head back to our tent. I

  see the boot waiting at the doorway, and my stomach sinks a

  little, because I still don’t know what to get my wonderful,

  perfect mate that conveys just how much I love him. We go

  inside, and K’thar stokes the fire, then straightens. He raises

  one hand over my head, and I see a handful of dried leaves

  dangling over my hair.

  “What the heck is that?”

  “It is not poison,” he tells me helpfully. “And now I shall be

  awarded with kisses, yes?”

  I can’t stop laughing, because the corrupted version of

  holiday traditions are funny and sweet at the same time. I fling

  my arms around his waist and tilt my head up for his kiss. “If

  you wanted to make out, all you had to do was ask.”

  He grins down at me. “I wish to give you traditions, my

  L’ren. No-Poison is important to your people and so it is impor-

  tant to me.” He leans in and lightly kisses my mouth, so tender

  it takes my breath away. “I have made you a gift—”

  “Tomorrow,” I blurt. “Let’s exchange in the morning. That’s

  part of tradition.”

  “Very well.” He strokes my cheek with one knuckle. “What

  else do you do on this night, then?”

  “Allow me to show you,” I say, and take one of his hands in

  mine and lead him to our furs.

  It’s a long time before we go to sleep. K’thar kisses every inch of

  me, in ‘proper’ No-Poison style, and we make love by the fire-

  light. We make love almost every night as it is, but tonight feels

  special, and I’m overwhelmed with how much I adore him and

  how happy I am.

  There’s just no way to channel all that into a pair of ugly

  leather socks.

  I climb out of bed to stir the fire, and K’thar turns over.

  Immediately, Kki takes my place in the furs, huddling against

  K’thar’s thick fall of hair and digging his claws into it. The little

  flyer is on him like a tick with the colder weather, constantly

  trying to squeeze his way into K’thar’s clothing and hide from
/>   the wind and—

  Oh.

  I know what to make for my mate.

  Excited, I grab my sewing basket from the corner and set to

  work as quietly as I can.

  It’s practically dawn before I’m done. I cut the final threads and

  knot them in a decorative style, and then rub my itchy, hurting

  eyes. I’ve squinted by the fire all night long but I’m pleased with

  the changes I’ve made to K’thar’s favorite tunic.

  “L’ren?” K’thar mumbles sleepily as he sits up, rubbing his

  face. “You are up already?”

  “I haven’t slept yet,” I tell him, fighting back a yawn. Seeing

  him tired is making me tired. “I was working on your present.”

  That wakes him up. “You made me something?” There’s

  boyish joy in his face. “I made you something, too.”

  I hope mine’s sufficient. I squelch back a worried thought

  and hold the tunic out to him. “Here.”

  He takes it from me, and I can tell he’s confused, because it’s

  his favorite tunic, one he wears regularly. “It is…very nice.”

  I fight back a laugh and go join him in the blankets,

  crossing my legs underneath me. “No no, look at the front. I

  made some changes to it.”

  K’thar studies the neckline, and realization dawns on his

  face. “You made a hood.”

  “No, it’s not a hood. It’s a carrier. Sorta. It’s a reverse hood.

  See, it’s in front.” I hold it up to his chest and show him where

  it’ll lay. “It’s lined with extra fur and some stuffing on the inside

  to make it super warm. You can wear it in the front of your

  tunic, or inside the neck and share warmth with Kki on the

  days it’s really cold out. It’s not much, but…” I shrug.

  “I….thought of you.”

  It sounds lame now that I say it aloud. All I did was sew a

  hood into the front of his tunic. It’s nothing amazing.

  But he touches it reverently, then pulls his tunic on over his

  head. Gone are the decorative ties, and in their place is the

  loose, thick puff of ‘hood’ that I made for Kki. He calls to the

  little flyer, and then tucks him into the new pocket, and slips

  the entire thing into the neck. It rests against his collarbone,

  warm and fuzzy, and his smile of pure delight fills me with

  pleasure. “Can you hear him warbling? He is happy.”

  “I hope you’re happy, too.”

  He leans in and kisses me fiercely. “I have the best mate.”

  I beam at him. I know Kki constantly is cold. The flyer

  doesn’t have the thick fur that the native creatures do, and he’s

  constantly burrowing into K’thar’s clothing and tearing holes

  into stitches or getting in the way. With the adjustments I made,

  the fur hood acts a bit like a scarf and a pocket at the same

  time, and it’s the best of both worlds. “Happy No-Poison to the

  best mate a girl could ever have. I love you so much.”

  K’thar kisses me again, his camoflage flashing with a rare

  display of emotion. Then, he touches my cheek. “Now it is time

  for your gift.”

  He hands the small, leather-wrapped bundle to me and I

  peel back the leather carefully, revealing two shining, delicate

  pearly spirals. “Oh,” I breathe. “What are they?”

  “They are carved from shell,” he tells me. “You twine them

  in your mane to keep it out of your eyes. My mother used to

  wear her mane like that, sometimes.” And he takes one and

  twists it into a handful of my hair, holding it back. “You are

  lovely, so I wanted you to have something equally lovely.”

  There’s a knot in my throat. “Oh, K’thar. Thank you. You’re

  so thoughtful.” I touch my hair, wishing I had a mirror. “I love

  you.”

  “And I you.” He kisses me…and then looks over at the

  entrance to our tent. “Did…”

  I laugh, touching my shell-spirals, pleased with the gift. “Go

  and check.”

  “My boot,” he cries as he looks out the flap of our door. “It is

  full of gifts! S’nta did visit.”

  No-Poison might be my new favorite holiday.

  The End — Thank you for being a fan. <3