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Two of a Kind Ch. 01

By: Darkwatch



My girlfriend Wendy was down for the week. It was Saturday, and my friend Mark came over after dinner to go out with us. After a few drinks at my place we asked Wendy what she'd like to do. "How about we go across the highway to Charlies's?" she said with a sly smile.

Charlies's is a strip club known throughout the area. Mark and I didn't need any other prompting, and soon all three of us walked over to the neon and noise that signaled that the club was hopping.

We walked in and took a side table. "So dearest, are you looking for a lap dance?" I asked. 

Wendy smiled at us with that dazzling smile of hers, "Oh, please. I think it would be fun!"

Mark turned to her, "Do you have any preference in type of girl?"

"Big tits, natural of course, and preferably blonde," she replied with a wide grin.

Mark was up like a shot and soon had a buxom blonde dancer. We moved Wendy's chair back and were treated to my sexy girlfriend having a great lapdance. Mark and I sat drinking our drinks and enjoying the show, and I'm not sure which one of us was enjoying it more. Wendy was reserved at first, but with some prompting began to get into it. Her smile grew even wider as the blonde grabbed her hands and brought them up to feel her large tits.

Well, we stayed there for a while, drinking and getting Wendy lapdances and generally enjoying ourselves. I could see that Wendy was getting excited by all the attention until during one break she finally leaned over to us. She put her hands under the table and grabbed both our cocks startling us, "Boys, I think it's time we blow this popsicle stand and go back, don't you? I can think of some more fun things do."

Without waiting for a response, she rose, took our hands and led us out of the club. We walked back hand in hand to my place, and went inside. 

Now, I should probably mention that Wendy has a dominant streak in her, and occasionally will want to "play". Mark and I are both accomplished successful men who are in leadership positions. This makes submitting to her all the more exciting as it's such a different side of our personas. It was obvious that she was in the Dom role, because as soon as the door closed she turned to me and said in a commanding voice, "Jeremy, pour all of us drinks and join Mark and your mistress in the living room."

I made double Jack-and-cokes for Mark and me, and a Kahlua and milk for my mistress. Bringing the drinks to the living room I saw Mark standing in the center of the room. He was already buck naked. Wendy was in the overstuffed easy chair, right leg crossed over left, her high heeled boot swaying back and forth as she tapped a riding crop in her palm. "That was slow, Jeremy, you'll going to have pay for that."

"Sorry Mistress, here is your drink," I said while presenting her glass. I stood right there knowing if I took any liberties, she would find it cause to punish me. "You may have a drink, and let my Servant have his as well. You are going to need it tonight. I'm feeling in an especially dark mood."

I gave Mark his drink and stood next to him. We both drank quickly, the warm whiskey feeling good going down my throat. When I finished I stood still, eyes straight ahead. I could feel Wendy's eyes on me, and hear her slowly sipping her drink. "Hmmm boys, you are not quite the matched set yet. I prefer my subs with less clothing. Strip Jeremy, and be quick about it."

I removed my clothing as fast as I could, folding it, and setting it aside. I then resumed my place standing next to Mark. 

"Better, much better." My sexy dom let us stand there on display for several minutes while she slowly finished her drink, letting the tension build. Then she stood up and walked over to us, coolly surveying her men with a critical eye. She started with Mark, "I see you have been working out Servant". She trailed her crop down his chest. "However, this little thing isn't very good for me to play with, is it?" she asked while tapping his dick with the tip of the crop. I could only assume he was flaccid. He grunted as her crop tapped his prick harder. One harder rap elicited another gasp. "There we go; I knew your tiny dick just needed a little encouragement. It still has a long way to go to satisfy me though, but it's a start."

I thought very erotic thoughts so she wouldn't find my cock limp as well. I just imagined how hot her body was, and how good it felt to be in her and I could feel my manhood begin to grow slightly. Good thing too because she finished with Mark and came over to me. I could feel her eyes on me as her crop slowly stroked my sensitive skin. "Not bad my dirty little whore" she commented. It moved down until she stroked my dick with the tip of her crop. Moving around my still form she spoke sternly, "but stand straighter". I felt her crop lash out against my naked ass, stinging it sharply.

"AUGH" I cried out.

"What? I didn't give you permission to say anything. Did I?"

I answered at once, "No Mistress, you did not."

She moved up against me and I heard her voice whisper in my ear, "Then you shall taste my crop again, until you can learn not to say anything. You aren't earning any points with me this evening."

I felt her crop again crack against my ass. I bit my tongue and kept from crying out despite the pain. 9 more times it was used against me. "Oh, that's a nice shade of red. Mark, you don't match him, whatever shall I do?" I heard a crack and knew that Wendy was now whipping his ass as well. He got ten strokes from her strong arm. He learned from my mistake by keeping his cries silent, but I could hear his breathing coming hard and fast as she worked him over.

"Lovely, just lovely; I do so like to have things nice and even. I have to keep things fair until one of you proves his worth and my favor. Damn it subs, you are both soft again! This won't do at all. Neither of you are making me happy tonight, I see a lot of training is in order."

She went over to the pegboard that holds our "toys" and took two cockrings down. "Put these on, slaves. The one who does it first will get a reward". She then held them up in front of us. I quickly took the one I was given. It was a set of three rubber interlocking bands. One goes around the shaft next to the body, the second around the sack pulling it downward, and the third band loops around the cock in front of the other two.

I quickly put it on, having to separate each ring, and attach it after wrapping around my manhood. Once done, I sneaked a peak at Mark. He was fumbling with his. It was a wider studded band. One strap goes around the base of the shaft like mine, but there was a strap that separates the balls before coming up over and around the dick. 

"Seems my whore has the advantage of practice," Wendy said after Mark finally got his on. 

Wendy took our cocks, one in each of her hands. Both our pricks were now standing at attention, the cockrings keeping them firm. Squeezing them hard, she snickered as we gasped, "Now that's how I like my subs; hard and ready for my use. It seems Jeremy wins a small prize for being first."

"Thank you Mistress," I said, beaming.

She released Mark and came over to me. She took my head in her hands and gave me a deep kiss that sent shivers to all the way down to my toes. She then started to stroke my erection. "See how good performance brings rewards, subs?" I could feel the tri-bands biting into my shaft as I grew even bigger. She began to stroke my prick harder and faster. I used every ounce of determination I had to avoid moving. I also knew I couldn't cum unless told to. My mistress put her face right next to mine, and gazed into my eyes. "Having problems Jeremy," she asked with a grin, obviously seeing the strain on my face.

"No Mistress, I am happy to have pleased you."

"Ah, yes, good answer. However Servant, since my dildo whore got a reward for winning, what do you think happens to you for losing?"

I heard a Marks soft reply, "I failed my Domina. I expect to be punished."

"Right answer, down on all fours," Wendy said in a stern voice.

As Mark hastened to comply, my mistress went back to the pegboard and took down a pink paddle. It was about two inches wide with XOXO on it. She came back, came up to me and turned me to face Mark. "Jeremy, you need to observe what happens to bad subs." I saw my friend on his hands and knees next to me, his ass still red from Wendy's crop. I knew what was to come and was happy I won her first challenge. 

Wendy moved over to Mark's body and I saw her caress her paddle. "I just love the way these X's and O's leave their mark in your ass, don't you? You need to kiss my paddle before it leaves its kiss on you." She then put it in front of his face and pulled his head up by his hair. He kissed the paddle and she let his head drop, walking around his body. 

She reached back and brought her paddle down on his rear with a resounding *crack*! He winced and lurched forward. "Count out loud servant, you are to receive twenty as your punishment. If you lose track, I'll be happy to start again at zero." 

She then began to work on his ass with her paddle. Each time she lay into him, the sound filled the room and he lurched, and said the count. She got to ten then picked up the pace. However, when she got to 15, she stopped suddenly, but Mark lurched forward in anticipation of being hit. "Oh my gods! I can't believe you did that. You don't ever try to avoid my punishments, subs. Just for that you get five extra." I winced as I watched Wendy turn Mark's backside into a bright shade of red with several welts starting to form.

As she finished all 25, she then surveyed her handiwork. "I bet you'll be quicker fulfilling my tasks now. I see we have you two mismatched again. This won't do. Dildo Whore, get on all fours next to servant, now!"

I dropped down to the floor and lined up next to Mark. I could hear his heavy breathing and feared she was going to make my ass match his next. However, our devious mistress had her own plans. "Now, that is a fine sight. Two strong men down on all fours like dogs. I know just what to do now to complete that picture."

Again a trip to the peg board was made and Wendy came back. I couldn't see what she had since I was on the floor, head down. She leaned down and I felt her encircle my neck with a wide collar and pull it tight just to the point of restricting my breathing. Moving over to my friend next to me she redid the procedure. I then felt her attach a leash to the collar with an audible *click*. Mark was then similarly leashed. 

With a laugh Wendy jerked on our leashes, "Oh now that's perfect. My subs turned into the dogs they are. I think it's time to take you two for a walk, move out my doggies and don't be slow or I'll have to quicken your steps with my crop." I felt a sting on my ass as she drove home her point by cracking her crop against my ass, then she did the same to Mark's. We moved out crawling behind her as she led us across the floor.

This was total humiliation, naked, collared and forced to walk on all fours next to my friend in the similar predicament. Wendy led us around the living room, to the kitchen and had us heel there while she got herself a new drink. Then she walked back to the living room to the big sliding door leading out to the patio. "I bet my doggies need to use the bathroom. Can't be making a mess inside now, can we fellas?"

She opened the door and led us out on the patio under the stars. It was tough crawling on my knees like that and they were getting very sore. Wendy stopped at the edge of the patio and said, "Now boys, if you have to pee, you know what to do. I won't be giving you another chance."

I had to go a little bit, but didn't want to humiliate myself further. I guess Mark had more to drink than I because he moved to the edge of the patio and lifted his leg. Wendy sat in the patio chair and watched Mark try to pee like a dog. Unfortunately, with the forced erection, the stream shot straight ahead and almost hit him in the face. He jerked back, and finally got it under control. When he was done, our Mistress yanked on our leashes and said, "Heel boys, one on either side of your Mistress."

We crawled over to the chair and took up position on either side of her. We sat on our haunches as she sipped her drink. She patted our heads and said, "What a perfect evening. I had some lap dances, some good drinks, now I have two subs as my doggies at my side. You know boys; I think it's time to turn our playtime up a notch. I believe I have a contest for you two."

She then got up and led us on our leashes back into the house. After closing the door she had us move to the center of the room again. "Now subs, we're going to have some fun. Up now, but stay on your knees." We complied and she took the leashes off, but left our collars on along with the cock rings. We were side-by-side, naked and kneeling in front of her. It was a position that enhanced her commanding role and emphasized our submission to her will. 

She looked into our eyes and with an iron tone said, "Now here is the contest. You are both to start stroking those cocks of yours. You are NOT to cum. I want to enjoy your performance for a few minutes. Once I've tired of your little show, I will tell you how to win. Now begin to jerk off my subs."

We both began to masturbate as she went back to the chair with her drink. My knees were killing me but it felt good to jerk off. It was very strange to be next to Mark as he was pleasuring himself as well. I could feel my cock strain itself against the cock ring as it got even bigger. Wendy was watching us with glee in her eyes. "Pull on that meat harder boys. It's precious to see you two jerking off like bad little boys. Let me tell you that you DON'T want to lose this contest."

I continued to jerk off. I had to swap grips and techniques to avoid cumming too soon. I heard Mark groan a few times and knew he was barely holding on. After 10 minutes of this, my cock was as sore as my knees. Wendy finished up her drink, stood up, and walked over to us. Standing tall in front of us, she was impressive in her dom role. 

"Now the contest is about to begin, my pets, you are to cum on my boots when I tell you. Don't miss or you'll have to clean it up. I'm interested in how much seed you are going to spill. Now... CUM!"

I jerked off hard, rubbing right in the sensitive spot under the head of my prick. I felt my dick begin to grow and my orgasm near. However, just as I was about to cum, I heard Mark cry out and saw his white seed spew onto Wendy's boots. "NO" I yelled as my own orgasm hit me. 

I almost blacked out as I felt my balls tighten and my own semen surge out of my throbbing cock. It flew out onto Wendy's other boot.

I was breathing hard, my dick throbbing as my orgasm subsided. I heard Wendy's voice, "Oh, dear Jeremy, it seems that you came second. It appears you've lost my little challenge, and that means you are going to have to pay the piper – or Mistress in this case."

My head bowed as I realized that my night was going to get a lot harder.

Two of a Kind Ch. 01-05



A/N: This is a fanfic telling of Dragon Age: Origins, an RPG game produced by Bioware. This interlude is moderately AU involving Fem!Cousland/Cailan Theirin and the events happening before and after the attack on Highever Castle as well as Ostagar. The timeline does jump around a good deal in this tale. So bear with me.

~~~

Highever----4½ years prior to Ostagar

A tortured scream came from the lips of the writhing female as she bore down with the contraction wracking her small body. She felt as if it would tear her in two while she labored to bring her child into the world. She gripped the bedclothes tightly, exhaling sharply, breathing as her mother told her to. She pushed for all she was worth, screaming through the blinding pain as the baby's head emerged. One more push expelled the babe from her body. She moaned in relief as the infant was placed on her belly. Thick blood coated its tiny body along with a filmy white sheen. 

"It's a boy," someone exclaimed happily as the newborn let out a thin cry, drawing its first breaths.

Kainen touched her son gently with shaky hands before letting out a startled wail. Promptly the wet nurse scooped up the infant as the midwife examined Kainen once more. "You are not done yet, my lady. Your son has a twin." It only seemed fair that Kainen would produce twins since she herself had a twin brother, Kaeden.

Kainen was exhausted. She dug her fingernails deeper and deeper into the bedclothes, piercing the fabric of the feather mattress. She rolled her head from side to side, moaning loudly. The contractions assailed her mercilessly, driving her to push for all she was worth. 

Twins, she mused, two beautiful little babies sired by the man she loved but would truly never have. 

Another scream, another push, Kainen gathered the last of her strength. She bore down, working her way through one more mighty contraction, she felt the child's head breach her body. One more push, she told herself and this child would be born. 

"It's another boy," the midwife cooed as she cut the cord and swaddled the crying child in a soft blanket. "Twin boys...you have been truly blessed."

Yes, Kainen knew she had blessed...truly blessed...to have everything she did; a loving family, a grand castle as a home and the love of a larger than life man who happened to be King. The only thing that would have made it better was if she had been his Queen. 

As soon as her womb was cleared of babes and afterbirth, Old Nan helped Kainen to sit up, settling the twins in Kainen's arms, nestling them near her breasts. The nanny turned cook instructed her once young charge how to nurse her young and soon Kainen had a twin latched to both breasts, nursing greedily.

Eyes glittered with pride as she noticed his golden head entering the room. Kainen beamed, "Cailan, come meet the twins."

The young King sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, "They are beautiful, my sweet. I have decided on names. We shall call our sons Ciaran and Carrigan." Cailan leaned down, placing a soft kiss on each of the infant's heads before gazing wondrously into Kainen's eyes. "Never has there lived a luckier man than I."

~~~

Denerim----6 years prior to Ostagar 

Kainen Cousland fidgeted as she stood in front of her full length mirror. She sighed impatiently as the Orlesian modiste worked on the hem to her fashionable new turquoise and gold gown that hugged her bountiful curves and accentuated the blue of her eyes. "You must simply hold still, my child. You will be the most beautiful woman at the ball. The men will be lining up for the chance to dance with you, for the mere chance that you may even throw your gaze in their direction. You will simply outshine them all."

Kainen beamed at her reflection, feeling like a princess in her elegant gown. When she had come to Denerim with her mother and father for the spring social season, she had hoped she would meet someone special, but just recently achieving the age of eighteen had never dreamed of an invitation to a grand ball at the Royal Palace. As the only daughter of Teryn Bryce Cousland, Kainen had grown up quite privileged. Her family was in fact the second most powerful family in all of Ferelden behind that of the Theirin's. The two families' long and storied history was oft intertwined, dating back four centuries when Teyrna Elethea Cousland fought against King Calenhad Theirin to remain an independent teyrnir. Yet Kainen's father had fought alongside King Maric Theirin against the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden. Dreamily, Kainen wondered if King Maric and his son, Cailan would be present at the ball. She giggled at the thought of actually meeting the prince.

"Ah, my darling girl, you look more beautiful than ever," Eleanor Cousland smiled as she entered the manor's sitting room. "It brings a tear to my eye to know some young man may win your heart at this ball and sweep you off your feet."

"Mother, you shouldn't hitch the cart in front of the horse," the younger Cousland female impishly grinned. "I look forward to this ball, even though my stomach is somewhat tied in knots. But is it true that Prince Cailan will be in attendance?" 

Eleanor chuckled warmly, stroking her daughter's unruly dark curls. "It is rumored that he will make a brief appearance, but don't hitch your hopes to that star. He's been promised to Lady Anora Mac Tir since they were both children."

Kainen pouted impetuously, "Is that because General Loghain was King Maric's right hand man during the war with Orlais?"

"That's Teyrn Loghain, pup. You must remember his title."

"But mother, our family is much more important to Ferelden than theirs. Teyrn Loghain was a commoner before King Maric gave him his title. Our family has been always been nobility. Father should be marrying me to the prince," Kainen placed her hands on her hips, pouting as prettily as she could manage. "I have more nobility in my pinky finger than Anora has in her whole body. Anyway, Father really doesn't like Loghain anyway. He told me so."

The teyrna's brow furrowed as a cross look blanketed her face. "Pup, this is not an appropriate discussion to be having at this moment. You must always mind what you say and how it will reflect on your father or I should it be repeated," Eleanor reprimanded soundly. 

"I still hope to be presented to Prince Cailan. Our family's stature should demand it. Therefore I must look my best. I think I shall wear the jeweled blue topaz tiara and matching earrings along with my new dress. Won't that look stunning, Mother?"

"Yes, I believe it will look beautifully stunning on you, and hopefully will attract a young man not already spoken for," Eleanor insisted, fully disliking the fool notion that had crept into her only daughter's head. The elder Cousland woman had heard tales of rivals who attempted to sway Cailan's affections in another direction. The daughter of Bann Augustine had the misfortune of finding herself upon a panicked horse when someone struck the beast's flank with a sling bullet. The usually calm and gentle horse threw its rider, breaking her neck instantly. 

"Yes, yes, mother," Kainen sighed. She knew she'd end up with a lecture from her father at some point if she continued to irritate her mother over this topic. "Who else would Father see me married to that would bring something of merit to our family? It is obvious that Fergus married Oriana for love, not connections. There's also the matter of Kaeden as well. My dear twin seems to think no woman is good enough for him. I don't see why Father allows him to fool around with the stablehands."

Eleanor shook her head, "Never mind your brother. Your father has made a match for him with Delilah Howe. As for you, there are numerous good matches out there, pup. Both are Arl Wulff's sons have not married as well as Arl Howe's oldest son, though not much has been heard of him since Rendon sent him off to the Free Marches. There is Arl Urien's son, Vaughan. Or if we go a few years older than you, there is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere. He is brother to Arl Eamon and Queen Rowan, Maker rest her soul. There are many, many choices for you. I would say most of them will be at this ball, except for Howe's oldest. Any of them would count themselves lucky to have you as their bride."

Kainen returned to her reflection, sighing dreamily. She looked forward to the ball and whatever it may bring. "Rumor has it that Vaughan Urien has a thing for elves and that Bann Teagan avoids court like the plague."

Eleanor shot a knowing smile at her daughter, "Teagan is here in Denerim at the moment. He's staying at Eamon's estate."

"May that it be, Mother, but who says he'd be interested in me?" Kainen retorted. "Besides who says I'm interested in some fool match? I just would like to meet Prince Cailan, not settle down and have a passel of babes." Kainen stuck her tongue out at her mother then jerked away from the modiste. "Have done, woman. I'm not a pincushion."

Eleanor sighed from exasperation, placing her head in her hands. Her darling brat had resurfaced again and would seem to be on a tear. 

~~~

"Introducing Lord Kaeden Cousland and Lady Kainen Cousland, son and daughter of Teyrn Bryce and Teyrna Eleanor Cousland," Kainen nearly pranced down the stairs of the royal ballroom after she'd been introduced to the crowd. She strutted and preened, tossing her saucy dark chocolate curls over her shoulder. Kaeden walked beside her with his hand on the small of her back, guiding her down the stairs, ever vigilant in his duty to catch her in case she fell. 

At the bottom of the grand staircase, Kaeden leaned over to whisper in his twin's ear, excusing himself as he caught sight of someone he knew. Kainen smiled in the direction her brother had walked away in, noticing as well that Dairren, the son of Bann Loren, was the reason her twin had abandoned her. 

Soon Kainen found herself swept away, dancing with various noble sons. She rolled her eyes as the young men pawed her while complimenting her beauty. She squirmed out of the tentaculous embrace of Vaughan Urien, threatening to break both his arms after the lecherous young man promised to have his father send a request to his that Vaughan be allowed to court her. Storming away, she sought someplace quiet where she could gather her emotions. She knew her mother would be horrified if she challenged the Arl of Denerim's son to a duel while the ball was going on. 

So lost in her thoughts was she, Kainen did not notice the balcony she'd stepped out onto was already occupied. She cursed loudly, pacing to and fro, under the watchful eye of a shadowy figure standing at the balcony's railing. She pulled off her delicately beaded blue heels, sending them flying at a wall. One ricocheted, veering wide before striking the figure at the railing. 

A startled yelp brought Kainen out of her revelry. She spun, finally noticing someone else was there. Her mouth went dry as recognition hit her. Even in the dim light of twilight, she knew who was holding her shoe. Rushing forward, Kainen bobbed a curtsy, mentally cursing herself for her folly. What a wonderful first impression she had made. "Your Highness, forgive me, I... I never would've thrown my shoe if I knew you were present." Kainen stayed in a supplicant position until the man before her spoke.

"I like to see fire in a woman. Besides no harm has been done," he replied with a chuckle as he helped her to her feet, handing her shoe back to her. "Something must've riled you up. Pray tell what that was."

Kainen knew who stood before her. As much as she had desired an introduction, she cursed the Maker for it happening like this. Therefore she chose her words carefully, relying heavily on the diplomatic training her father had been trying to instill upon her. "Bann Vaughan thought he could paw a teyrn's daughter. Forgive me for my unseemly behavior, your Highness. It was better to release my frustrations in private than behead the fool before a captive audience. My parents would be scandalized."

Recognition surged within the young prince, "You are Bryce's youngest. I have heard many things about you from your father. He speaks highly of you and now I see why. How does your father fare these days? And your brothers?"

"My father is quite well, Prince Cailan. They are in attendance tonight as well as my twin brother, Kaeden. I had hoped to be introduced to you, my prince, but I never imagined it to be this way. Might I beg a question, Your Highness?"

"Only if you drop the 'your Highnesses' from your every sentence," the golden prince smirked, "'Twould continue to be unseemly after the assault with a shoe." Mirth sparkled in his tawny eyes, setting her at ease.

"Very well, your ...err... Cailan," Kainen stumbled then cleared her throat. "Why have you not made an appearance at the ball so far? I'm sure most of your subjects eagerly await you to grace them with your presence."

A rich laugh spilled from his lips, "Ah, you are your father's daughter. Bryce must be proud of you indeed. Civilized hatchet parties like these bore me with everyone seeking my favor. I'd much rather be out in the field, not stuck in the palace. Father insists I be here, but that doesn't mean I have to cater to the sycophants fawning over my every move."

Kainen let loose a throaty laugh, "It must be hard being the prince when everyone wants something from you."

Her statement garnered a cocky grin from him, "And it must be equally hard to be a beautiful young woman when it's well rumored you'll be your father's heir instead of either of your brothers. No wonder so many are 'pawing' at you this evening. As for young Vaughan, I could discreetly send a message that your attentions are spoken for." His words were bold. "Dance with me." Cailan's voice purred as he moved closer with a slow sensual step that made Kainen's heart beat all the faster.

Being swept away into the arms of the golden prince far exceeded any of Kainen's musings on how the night might fare, yet she was far from complaining. He caught her arms then slid them up around his neck. His voice had dropped an octave lower. Deep, slow, sensuous, like the hands that, instead of holding her correctly, slid around her, against her bare back where the low cut of her dress left it vulnerable. 

Kainen gasped, her mind spinning in circles. This was what she had dreamed of. Cailan moved gracefully to the music, drawing her along with him. The feel of him this close, the brush of his warm hands against her silky skin, made her tremble. As he felt her body quiver, he pulled her infinitely closer. Kainen shivered helplessly while his hands slowly caressed her, his lips nuzzling her hair, her forehead, as he made the languorous effort to move her to the lively rhythm the orchestra played. It wasn't as much dancing as it was making love to music. She felt his broad chest dragging against her breasts with every step, his long powerful legs brushing against hers at the thigh. As much as she wanted this, as good as it felt, Kainen pulled back. She must not seem too overeager to him, especially after her little shoe throwing episode. Her actions, though, did not go unnoticed by Cailan.

"Why do you recoil? Is there something to be afraid of?" He whispered against her brow, holding her firm.

"'Tis unseemly to allow such forward behavior after my outburst over the prior offense," Kainen whispered, knowing she must hold something back if she were to truly garner the attentions of the prince. Play hard to get, make him work for it before allowing him a sample of her fruit. Kainen was no fool. She knew she had intrigued him, hence she was now being cradled in his arms, he was holding her quite intimately, touching her. Part of her could barely hide her pleasure or her need for more of this exquisiteness. 

"My lady," he bent closer, his mouth tempting hers into lifting, his eyes dark and sultry and intent in the stillness that surrounded them. He ceased their dancing, but his hands smoothed lazily up and down her slender back. He watched the rapt, uninhibited need color her face then part her lips. Cailan wisely eased her into a small alcove, hidden from the rest of the balcony, moving her until she was against the stone wall. His hands rested on either side of her head against the rough stone, his body shielding hers, and then covering hers, trapping her between his heat and the cold chill of the granite in a slow, sensual movement. 

Cailan captured her mouth, taking it a succession of slow, brief, tormenting kisses. Kainen writhed spasmodically, shaking from the pleasure of his kiss and the thrill of being this close to him. He tasted of heaven and expensive brandy, his ministrations drugging her senses with aching desire. Kainen clung to him with something akin to desperation, so out of control that she couldn't begin to hide the emotions he brought to life within her. Her smaller form burned with want of him, throbbed and trembled as a pool of heat gathered deep within her, threatening to devour them both.

But the nasal whine of a familiar female voice acted like a bucket of ice cold water, effectively cooling their ardor. "Cailan, where are you? Are you hiding out here again?" Tapping heels on the tile floor grew louder, threatening to expose their rendezvous. Both held their breaths for fear of any noises would give them away.

As soon as the sound of the clip clop of footsteps receded, Cailan let loose the breath he was holding. He rested his lips against her brow, "That was close. I want to see you again. I'll send for you soon. We'll go for a ride in the countryside. Now I suppose I must make an appearance," he sighed, "before Lady Anora sends out a more vigilant search party."

"I... should freshen myself, I suppose, so I don't look like I've been thoroughly mauled," Kainen could scarcely keep the disappointment out of her voice, but knew appearances had to be kept up. 

Cailan let her out of his embrace, "Keep a dance open for me, my sweet. It 'twould look unseemly if the prince didn't dance with his favorite teyrn's daughter." The golden prince winked at her, straightened his clothes and hair before disappearing out of sight. 

~~~

Kainen sought the nearest powder room, fixing her make-up, before returning to the ball. She quickly made her way over to Kaeden, despite being surrounded by a bevy of beauties, remained at Dairren's side. She absconded upon them, quickly cajoling Dairren into a dance, before the tentaculous Vaughan could whisk her away again. She reveled in a slew of several more partners, dancing gaily to the Remigold, until Vaughan captured her once more. 

Relief came almost immediately in the form of a smiling Cailan, interrupting the pair, "Pardon me, Bann Vaughan, but I believe I have not had the pleasure of a dance with Teyrn Cousland's lovely daughter yet." The golden prince offered his hand to her, escorting her a few paces away where he engaged her in an invigorating waltz. 

Kainen felt like she was floating on air again. Such wonders the breadth of his strong arms beheld, keeping her safe from harm. She knew all her prayers had been answered; her dreams would become a reality. Surely this must be what floating on cloud nine felt like. Surely there was no other luckier woman than she.

~~~

Ostagar---after the assault on Highever Castle

~~~

The ox drawn wagon drew ever closer to the ruins of Ostagar, one more mile in fact before they reached the main camp. Despite the wagon, it had still taken them nearly two weeks to make their destination. Travel was slow going at best and nearly nonexistent at worst during certain days when the horrors of what had happened in the castle forced Kainen into a near stupor. Grief overwhelmed her. The loathsome man who practically dragged her kicking and screaming with her children in tow out of the larder where her father lay in a pool of blood, dying from the horrific wounds she had scarcely glimpsed, managed to keep food in her children's bellies. It was all she could manage to take care of the twins.




Two of a Kind Ch. 01-05



Ostagar was near. Cailan was near. Kainen shook with anticipation as she pulled her squirming four and a half year old sons onto her lap, shushing them with a comforting hand wrapped around their middles as well as soft kiss to the crown of their heads. "You'll see papa soon, my little loves, and he'll make it all better." The logical part of her knew Cailan would be less than thrilled that she'd brought the twins to a battle zone. She also knew he'd be less than happy that their presence would expose their affair for everyone to see. Little Ciaran was the spitting image of his father with the same golden hair, the same charming grin and the same impetuous personality. Carrigan took his dark looks from his mother as well as her oft times brat-ish demeanor. It was true, though... what one of the little tykes didn't think of to get into the other did. The joys of Kainen's life they were, her darling little demons. 

She cradled them in her arms, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. Her children were safe. She knew what she risked bringing them here, but fate left her no choice. Highever Castle had been overtaken. That wretch of a man who drove the wagon had also conscripted her into the Wardens when she refused to leave and only Cailan could help her now. She could scarcely believe that horrid man had guilted her dying father into agreeing, just so she could live. She swore fervently under her breath. If only her father had listened to her when she told him she knew something was wrong. She knew Howe had been lying to her father, could tell when she spoke to him that he was up to something. Nevertheless, her father had sent Fergus and Kaeden off with their men, therefore denying those remaining in Highever Castle any hope or chance of surviving the onslaught of what was to come. Why hadn't he listened to her when she'd urged him to send a man out to scout? She would've done so herself if there had been one to send. The teyrn had often let her make the decisions concerning the day-to-day workings of the castle. It was part of her training in running the teyrnir, something she'd have full control of once her father finally passed on. Kainen just hadn't expected it to be so soon or that his death would come at the hands of a man he had called friend. It pained her when she thought of having to tell her brothers. How could she face Fergus with her sons in tow when Oren's life had been cut so tragically short? 

Kainen brushed away the tears that had begun to fall anew then tightly hugged her boys. Ciaran gazed up at her with his big blue eyes, "Mama sad? Mama no cry."

Kainen hugged them again, "Mama no cry," she repeated. 

"Mama squish us," Carrigan giggled. "Where is Papa? Will he carry us on his shoulders?"

Kainen sighed, torn on how to answer Carrigan's question. She didn't want to lie to him, but knew what the answer was. "If he carries you about, Carrigan, then Ciaran will be jealous. Best give your papa's shoulders a rest for the time being. As for where your papa is, I expect he's with his army. You'll get to see him soon enough."

Peeking up over the high wooden slat walls of the wagon, she noticed they'd come to a bridge. Duncan brought the wagon to a halt, knowing he would not be able to take it any further. The surface of the bridge had suffered over the centuries, pockmarked with great damage, whole chunks of rock missing from the edges, leaving a narrow path for horses or foot traffic only. Her heart pounded in her chest. Soon she would see Cailan. There was so much she needed to tell him. They hadn't seen each other in months. Politics and the threat of the Blight had saw fit to keep them apart. Her ears perked up as she caught the sound of a familiar voice, a sensuous timbre that never failed to turn her insides to mush. It's no wonder she had not the power to resist him. Heat surged through her, urging her to abandon her sense of propriety as she hopped from the bed of the wagon hurriedly.

As soon as her feet landed squarely on the stone, Cailan rounded the wagon, his face etched with a tumultuous mix of surprise and disbelief. "Kainen, have you lost all control over your sense of discretion?" Moments later the twins tackled his legs. Normally the knowledge of his mistress and their children getting out had done little to phase Cailan, but ever since Loghain had joined him here at Ostagar, there'd had been numerous arguments over his unfaithfulness to Anora.

Hurt battered her heart, tearing open a new wound. Never had he spoken to her quite like this. "I'm sorry, Cailan," she spoke softly. "But I had nowhere else to go. Arl Howe's army attacked the castle after Father had sent our troops off. My mother and father are both dead and to top it off, this loathsome fool thinks it's a perfectly sane idea to conscript a pregnant woman into the Wardens!!! Tell him he can't do that! With my father dead, I'm the rightful Teyrna of Highever."

A look of complete shock crossed Cailan's face as he looked back and forth between Kainen and Duncan. "We should continue this conversation in my tent. I may have a solution that should satisfy all."

Duncan arched an eyebrow at the King as Cailan picked up each of the twins one by one for an affectionate twirl. Though Kainen reached out for the boys, Cailan waved her off, insisting he be the one to carry his sons back to his tent. The rambunctious boys giggled while jabbering nonsensibly, each playing with shoulder pauldrons of their father's golden armor. Dutifully, Kainen followed behind them, feeling a faint flutter within her belly as the babes she carried moved and kicked. 

Once they reached the relative privacy of Cailan's tent, the King turned on the leader of the Grey Wardens. "I know my father reaffirmed the power the Grey Wardens were given during Blights, but don't you think conscripting my mistress is going too far? Did Anora put you up to this? Or was it Loghain?"

"Neither, your Majesty," Duncan rubbed his brow. "Teyrn Cousland begged me to take her and the teyrna to safety. When I went to Highever to gather recruits, I was unaware of who she was to you. Conscripting her was the only way to get her and the children out of there safely."

Cailan's golden eyes burned with fire, "And why I am just finding out now that you're pregnant again, Kainen? I haven't seen you in months. What have you been doing?" 

"Don't you dare accuse me of unfaithfulness? You know me better than that, Cailan." To prove her point, she hastily stripped off her dress, exposing her burgeoning belly. "I'm nearly four months along with what the midwife believes is another set of twins."

"That would explain all the correspondence between Bryce and Eamon as of late. You are aware they both have been urging me to set Anora aside, due to her lack of bearing an heir. Loghain must've gotten wind of it because all I hear from him besides how reckless I am being is that my affairs have shamed his daughter. I tire of his accusations that Anora hasn't given me an heir due to the fact that I spend all my time in your bed." 

"Cailan darling," Kainen started as she settled the twins down on a nearby cot where they could play quietly. "I know this is a troublesome matter, but what do you plan to do about Howe? He can't be allowed to get away with what he's done. My father has always supported you. He made sure you succeeded in taking your father's throne, despite the fact that so many were urging him to take it instead. Furthermore, where are Fergus and Kaeden? I don't relish telling either of them what happened. Especially Fergus because I know he will be grief stricken over the loss of Oriana and Oren."

Cailan set his hands on Kainen's shoulders, tenderly massaging the stiffness out of them. "Of that I have no doubt, especially since you managed to escape with the twins. I promise you, my sweet, that once we are done here, I'll turn my army northward and bring Howe to justice. He will hang. As for your brothers, Fergus is out scouting in the Wilds. Your twin, however, managed to incite a near riot after a hard night of drinking. He's under lock and key at the moment."

"What? What happened? What did he do?"

Cailan chuckled briefly, "He and a few of the Highever knights got into a 'pissing' contest with several of the knights from Gwaren. 'Twas an interesting fight to watch until Cauthrien and Loghain got involved. That's when hellfire and damnation broke loose. Kaeden claims that Loghain made some disparaging remarks against not only your father but you as well so that's when Kaeden drew on him. He even managed to draw blood on Loghain. Afterwards, my father ordered Kaeden thrown in a cage until justice could be served. Perhaps he's been waiting for Bryce to show up. All I know is Loghain won't back down, won't release your brother even though I've already ordered him to do so. That brings us back to you, Duncan. If Bryce promised you a recruit, a recruit you shall have. I give you leave to use the Grey Wardens Right of Conscription on Kaeden. I think that is the best course of action to saving his life. That's the least I can do to appease both you and Kainen."

"Kaeden would make a fine Warden, I'm sure. His skill with a blade is most impressive. Though, I could always beat him. I'm quicker than he'll ever be." Kainen grinned, relieved that Cailan had come up with such a satisfying solution. She noticed her lover's brow furrowing as well as the cocking of an eyebrow. "You worry too much, darling. The midwife reassured me that as long as I was careful during my sparring sessions no harm would come to the babes. She said the exercise was good for me. The same can be said for sex. We had this conversation during my pregnancy with the twins. I would never do anything to harm our children."

Duncan cleared his throat, "I shall take my leave of you, your Majesty. I have a new recruit to rescue from harm."

As soon as Duncan exited the tent, Kainen fell into Cailan's arms, clutching at his armor. She nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck, allowing her tears to trickle down her face before splashing onto his golden mail. He soothed her, removing his gauntlets, before caressing her bare skin. Pulling away, he went down on bended knee before her, his fingers splaying over her rounded belly. "I am a lucky man."

Kainen delved her fingers into Cailan's hair, mussing it ever so slightly. "I know it probably isn't proper for me to ask, but what do you think of my father's and Eamon's urging to set Anora aside? I know you love her, my darling, but..."

"If I'd truly had it my way, I wouldn't have married her in the first place, but I had to honor the contract my father made with her father. I hear the rumors, just as much as everyone else. They say the reason she hasn't conceived is due to the fact she stems from common blood, but the real reason is because I've never spent much time in her bed. I care for Anora, but you are the one I truly love." Kainen's heart fluttered at his declaration then groaned as she felt his mouth on her stomach. "My wife might be the Queen of Ferelden, but you will always be the Queen of my heart."

~~~

Ostagar--- before the big battle

~~~

A few days had passed since Kainen arrived at Ostagar. She had spent the bulk of her time in Cailan's tent with the twins, but even the interesting things that Cailan kept there could only hold the twins interest for so long. With Cailan's permission and accompanied by Cailan's trusted honor guards, Kainen began to take the twins on short walks about the camp. She'd learned from Duncan that Kaeden had passed his Joining and was now a proud Grey Warden, but still there was no word from Fergus. She feared the worst where her elder brother was concerned. Other scouting bands had returned delivering dire news of the horde now bearing down on them. Rumors spread like wildfire that the horde would reach the ruins within a day. Frantic preparations were being made. Despite his complaints of how the meetings bored him, Cailan spent most of his time closeted away with Loghain, going over battle strategies. She'd seen so little of him. Their moments alone were often stolen interludes or short forays of family togetherness. Kainen cherished every moment of it, relying on the twins to keep her occupied. 

Hours before the horde was predicted to reach the ruins, Cailan burst into his tent suddenly. She could tell by the look on his face that the latest meeting with Loghain had not gone well. She could feel the seething anger rolling off Cailan in waves. Dropping the dress she was about to pull over her head, she rushed to his side.

"Let me soothe your anger, my darling," she purred as she cupped his face in her hands.

Cailan pulled away from her, "You can't, Kainen, not this time. I'm going to have to send you away, I fear. A contingent of Maric's Shield will accompany you to Redcliffe."

Hurt and disbelief assailed her, "What?"

He shook his head then moved away from her, putting distance between them, "Loghain insists. He caught wind somehow that I intended to set Anora aside as soon as these battles are over. He's threatened to take his troops and leave. Plus he's already called for Anora to meet us here. I have little choice in the matter. His men are needed here to defeat this horde. The Grey Wardens from Orlais have been delayed, so I have to do what's best for the country and the lives at stake here. Trust me when I tell you I don't want this, but this is how it has to be. I will see that you, the twins and the unborn babes are taken care of."

Tears gathered in Kainen's eyes, "You let him strong arm you. Cailan, how could you let him put you over a barrel? You are the King. You could strip him of his title for his insolence against you and appoint someone else worthier of the title Teyrn." Kainen gripped the spaulders of his golden mail, "And what about me? What about the twins? Don't you think we need you? How can you think to send us off when that horde will be here in no time? How can you possibly think I'd be safe in the company of men loyal to Loghain? Don't you see what he's planning? We'll never make it to Redcliffe alive."

His eyes flashed indignation at her accusation. "Those men have always been loyal to the crown. I've been assured that no harm will come to you."

"Don't be a fool, Cailan. I don't believe it for one moment and neither should you. Why else would Anora be coming to a war zone if her father wasn't planning to do me and the twins in? When has she ever come to visit you when you were out in the field? Think, Cailan. You've always told me she isn't interested in battles or war, that she'd rather sit in the palace. Can't you see what they're planning? She's coming here because she thinks to catch you at a weak moment so she can bed you in hopes of getting pregnant. You know what this is all about. You are playing right into their hands. Loghain is bluffing. He won't take his army and leave. If he did, he'd be labeled a coward before the whole of the nation. His pride will never allow that."

Cailan rubbed his face tiredly, "I told him you wouldn't go without a fight." He knelt down before her, resting his forehead against her protruding belly, round with the babes nestled safely inside. "This puts me firmly between a rock and a hard place. You know I don't want you to go."

A shout sounded outside of the tent then Loghain unceremoniously barged in, catching sight of the intimate family scene before him. He sneered, "Isn't this cozy? Have you told the little harlot yet?"

Kainen's eyes flashed as rage boiled in her veins. "How dare you insult me?" She whirled about, standing brazenly before Loghain clad in only her smallclothes and stockings. "I am Teyrna of Highever and you will not treat me like I'm some common doxy. I will not be sent away by you, either. As Teyrna, I have an obligation to the crown and to the soldiers of Highever who are here at His Majesty's behest."

"Why Bryce would name you as his successor is truly a mystery? I fail to see his reasoning in the matter, unless he figured you'd whore your way through running a teyrnir such as Highever. Is that how you plan to gain your vassals allegiance now that your father is dead? That's right, Bryce is dead. You can't even claim Highever as your own due to the fact it's in Rendon Howe's hands," Loghain's nasty sneer matched the rage burning in Kainen's eyes. 

Cailan cleared his throat loudly, "Enough!" His golden gaze shot from Loghain to Kainen then back to Loghain. "Rendon Howe will not get away with his actions concerning Highever. I've reaffirmed Kainen as Teyrna of Highever. I've promised her I would take my army north to deal with Howe once we are finished here. I also warned you about your insults toward the mother of my children. Might I remind you that I am King!?! Kainen and I have been together for nearly seven years, longer than Anora and I have been married. I never would've even married Anora if it weren't for my father insisting I uphold the contract he made with you. He knew about Kainen. He actually congratulated me on my conquest of Bryce's daughter. He told me he saw no reason why I couldn't keep her as my mistress even though I was to be married to Anora; he felt it strengthened Highever's allegiance to the crown. Besides, my father had his mistresses and tumbles in hay. You think I'm not aware that his bastard is here in camp, one of the Grey Wardens."

Kainen flashed Cailan a nasty look, "Who? And don't think I'm going to allow you to label our sons as your bastards, Cailan!" Kainen shot daggers at both men before her. Her chest heaved from the anger racing in her blood. She grabbed up her dress, yanking it on. "And you, Loghain, if your daughter wasn't such a cold fish in the bedroom, maybe Cailan wouldn't have needed another woman. Maybe she's too common to be able to nurture royal seed within her womb. I think you need to get out before I forget I'm a lady and slit your lying throat."

"I'd do as my lady commands if I were you, Loghain," Cailan replied tersely. "The horde will be here in a few short hours. I'll meet you at the planning session shortly. We'll discuss matters then."

Loghain's eyes narrowed dangerously, "You would do well to heed what I told you earlier, Cailan. Anora will not be pleased to find your mistress, teyrna or no, here when she arrives."

"Loghain, I've made my decision. It's final. I'll deal with Anora when she arrives, but until then, Kainen stays."

Kainen felt like crowing. She couldn't keep the delight she felt out of her eyes and her smile showed her pleasure. She could barely compose herself as Loghain stormed out as violently as he had stormed in. Once he was gone, Kainen threw her arms around Cailan, passionately planting kisses all over his face and neck, "Oh thank you, my love, for letting me stay. You won't regret this. So tell me, which Grey Warden is your father's bastard? Oh, I bet I know. It's that handsome blond haired one that I've seen with my brother over the past few days. Alistair's his name, right? It's him, isn't it? I saw him and my brother sparring together near the Grey Warden tent. He's definitely of Theirin blood, yes?"

Cailan chuckled at her enthusiasm, "Me or Alistair? Who's more handsome?" He winked at her before carrying her to the large bed which dominated most of the tent.

"Ooooh, that's very tough to decide," Kainen purred coyly. "Watching him spar with Kaeden was very much a cause to get the blood pumping—a thing of utter beauty— but if I had to choose, I'd have to say that you are the most handsomest of all the Theirin men. I'd even go as far as to say you'd put your father to shame in the handsome department."

Rich laughter spilled from Cailan's lips, "And you, my dear lady, put your father to shame in the 'knowing how to stroke your monarch's ego' department. Bryce always had a way with words, and I clearly see that you not only take after him, but exceed his capabilities hands down. Don't worry, love, once we've won this battle and have sent the darkspawn fleeing in fear, we'll take back your teyrnir and then return to Denerim where I shall call a Landsmeet and officially announce you as my new queen. Everything will work out, you'll see."




Two of a Kind Ch. 01-05



~~~

Kainen walked proudly beside Cailan as she accompanied him to the strategy meeting. She had clad herself in armor specially made to accommodate her ever growing belly which bore the Cousland coat of arms proudly upon the breastplate. She smiled as she caught sight of Kaeden standing beside Duncan and Alistair, remembering that Cailan had informed her that he had requested their presence. 

She caught Loghain's look of malcontent and matched it with the sweetest smile she could muster. Then she turned her attention to her brother, ignoring the snide tone of Loghain's voice as he greeted Cailan. She hugged Kaeden, congratulating him before greeting Duncan and introducing herself to Alistair.

"So you're the twin Kaeden's been talking about, eh? I never would've thought he'd have such a pretty sister, considering his ugly mug," Alistair cajoled, garnering a dark look from Cailan. 

Kaeden guffawed loudly, "She'd chew you up and spit you out, friend. None of her suitors ever lasted all that long. So I guess you'll have to be content with my ugly mug."

Kainen blushed prettily, pretending to be a coy maiden, "Dear brother, you do me no justice. You make me sound worse than Rascal, your blasted mabari. See what torment I'm subjected to just by having a brother like him." She winked at Cailan covertly. "Besides you wouldn't want your comrade-in-arms to get the wrong idea about me."

Kaeden affectionately hugged his sister, dwarfing her as he embraced her within his spectacular physique. He stood more than two heads taller than she, making him look more akin to a qunari than anything else. His broad shoulders and barrel chest tapered to a lean waist, slender hips and powerfully sculpted thighs while his tree trunk sized legs completed him magnificently. Mirth sparkled in his blue eyes. He pulled her away from everyone else, leaned down then whispered in her ear, "Sis, if you are here with Cailan, then who is guarding the twins?"

She chuckled, "Rascal is, of course. Haven't you noticed the absence of your faithful hound? No one will get near the boys with that mabari guarding them. Plus I won't be away from them for that long. I just wanted to make sure Loghain doesn't try to strong arm Cailan again into thinking he can send me away," she murmured quietly. She turned back when she realized Cailan's voice had raised an octave.

"Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault," Cailan waved his arms before in a motion of finality. 

Loghain shook his head, "You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines."

"If that's the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us, after all," the golden haired king retorted. He'd just about had enough of Loghain making certain decisions for him. He wasn't about to back down this time, not with Kainen and the Grey Wardens watching.

"I must repeat my protest to your fool notion that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves! Besides we both know they're not coming and that horde is breathing down our very necks."

"They are coming. They are simply delayed. I have the reassurance from Empress Celene. It's not a 'fool notion.' Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past... and you will remember who is king." Cailan returned Loghain's glare while pacing back and forth before the large table set aside for this strategy session.

"How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century! Maric would never stand for this."

"Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they? Duncan, are your men ready for battle?" Cailan turned to Duncan, noticing how Kainen watched intently with her brow furrowed. She stood between her brother and Alistair. 

"They are, your Majesty," Duncan replied, nodding at the young king. 

"I see you brought Kaeden and Alistair as I requested. Congratulations are in order for making it through your Joining, Kaeden. Bryce would be proud of you."

"Thank you, King Cailan," Kaeden smiled widely before he pulled his sister to his side in a half hug.

"Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks," Cailan smiled at the show of affection between the siblings. 

Loghain rolled his eyes, "Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality."

Cailan shook his head at Loghain's tirade, "Fine. Speak your strategy. The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines and then...?"

"You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge from cover," Loghain added.

Cailan pointed to the map of the ruins before him, "To flank the darkspawn, I remember. This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?"

"I have a few men stationed there. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital." Loghain offered as his eyes flashed wildly. Kainen noticed the look upon the teyrn's face. Something struck a chord within her. She knew Loghain was planning something and she didn't like it. She had to warn Cailan. She had to do something.

"Then we should send our best. Duncan, let's send Alistair and Kaeden to make sure it's done." 

"You mean I'm not going to be in the battle?" Alistair spoke up, unable to keep the whine of discontent out of his voice.

"We should be in the battle," Kaeden echoed Alistair's sentiment, but without the whine.

Duncan scowled at them both. "That is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there. We need the beacon. Without it, Loghain's men won't know when to charge. We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn... exciting or no. "

Alistair made a face, "I get it. I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no," he rolled his eyes. 

Alistair's heard Cailan's chuckle before Kaeden and Kainen injected their mirthful comments, "I don't know. That could be a great distraction." 

"I, for one, would like to see that." Kainen winked saucily.

Alistair flashed a winning smile at her, "For you, maybe, but it has to be a pretty dress. As for your great distraction, my brother in arms, can you imagine me shimmying down the darkspawn line? Sure, we could kill them while they roll around laughing."

Duncan sighed while Cailan laughed at the antics of Alistair and the Cousland twins and Loghain cleared his throat, "You rely on these Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?"

Cailan threw a dark look at Loghain, "Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain. Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter what the command might be."

"Your Majesty, you should consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing," Duncan spoke again.

"There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds," Loghain added.

"Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?" Cailan countered effectively, ignoring his father's scowling countenance.

"I... yes, your Majesty," Duncan nodded as a muscle in his cheek twitched.

A mage standing off to the side took that moment, "Your Majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi--," The grand cleric cut him off promptly with her snide remark. "We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage! Save them for the darkspawn!"

A growl came from Loghain, silencing everyone around him, "Enough! This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon."

Cailan flashed his golden smile, cajoling everyone around him. Images of triumphant victory danced in his head, "Thank you, Loghain. I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!" 

Loghain turned his back to the table and the people gathered. A secretive smile graced his face, "Yes, Cailan... a glorious moment for us all. Now I must get my men ready for the battle." He walked away, seething and determined to put the young glory-hound in his place.

~~~

Kainen dragged Cailan back to the royal enclave. Ill feelings washed over her, screaming at her that something was wrong. She knew that something didn't feel right. Her gut instinct told her Loghain wasn't about to follow the battle plan. She had to make Cailan see that. Somehow she had to keep him out of the battle. Different possibilities on how to make that happen zoomed through her mind. She had to make sure he was seen on the battlefield, but wasn't actually there. 

As much as she wanted to express her fears, she didn't want to let him know what she was up to. She grabbed the bottle of his favorite brandy, poured it into a snifter then added a small vial of a sleeping draught she occasionally used to help her before she handed it to him, "To victory!" She toasted him before taking a sip of the amber liquid, feeling it burn as it slid down her throat. 

She watched Cailan drink his before setting the glass aside. He embraced her tightly, flashing his devil-may-care smile before placing a tender kiss upon her lips, "To victory," he echoed. 

"Perhaps you should rest for a few minutes before the battle," she suggested. "Lay here with me. Let me take care of you." Kainen coaxed him to the bed, drawing him in with a wink and the alluring wiggle of her hips. 

Cailan followed, crawling in beside her, "Temptress, how can I resist such an offer?" 

Kainen's heart fluttered wildly in her breast as he pulled her into his embrace, dipping his head to capture her lips with his. For a moment, she drowned in his golden eyes, and then very gently he began to kiss her, tenderly at first, then as she responded, he plied her with a firmer kiss, warm and sweet, long and skillful. Kainen slipped hers hands free, allowed them to brush upwards, tracking the contours of his armored arms and shoulders until she could wrap her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss even more. She flicked her tongue against his, and was rewarded by the feel of his arms tightening around her back, pulling her body against him, making her more aware than ever how potent her desire for him was. 

"Have you any idea what I'd do to you if there wasn't a darkspawn horde ready to wipe us all of the face of Thedas?" Cailan grinned before resting his head against her chest. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her beside him. Never was there a luckier man than he.

Kainen pushed her hands up into his hair, softly stroking, knowing the draught was taking effect. Soon he'd be out cold and she could put her plan into motion. She doubted he'd wake up before dawn and by that time she'd be able to convince him that what she'd done had been for the best. It all hitched on one simple aspect, though. She had to make the gathered army think that Cailan was indeed leading then. She didn't know how easily someone like Duncan would be fooled, but she hoped her plan would work. 

Judging that Cailan had dropped off into a deep sleep, she stripped him of the golden mail he wore, leaving him wearing his smallclothes. Then she poked her head outside of the tent, sizing up a few of the guard stationed outside. Focusing on a young man whose height and build was very similar to Cailan's, she called him to her, letting him into the tent. 

"What's your name, soldier?" Kainen asked, looking him up and down intently. 

He flashed an odd look at her, noticing a passed out Cailan on the bed. "My name is Ser Garel, my lady."

"Garel, I need you to do a great service for your king and country. I also need you to trust me in this matter," Kainen stated. "How competent are you with a large sword?"

"I'm a knight in His Majesty's service, my lady. I've trained with many weapons. Wielding a sword like that one would be of no consequence to me. What is this about?"

"I need you to don Cailan's armor and take his place on the battlefield. Wear his helm and make sure no one sees who you are. Trust me when I ask this great honor of you." Kainen told him handing the golden breastplate to him.

Ser Garel blanched, "That's treason you're talking about. If I'm discovered, I'll--."

Kainen cut him off, "You have nothing to fear. I will take the blame for it all. I'm doing this to uphold Cailan's honor. He is your king and I fear someone has done something to him. He came back from that meeting with Loghain and sought his bed. I haven't been able to wake him. You must help me. Please, there's no one I can trust besides his personal guard. All I need you to do is make an appearance before the troops. Don't talk too much and never raise your helm. When you do speak, make sure it's short commands. I'd do it myself, but there's no way anyone would believe I'm the king."

Ser Garel stroked his chin before taking hold of the armor piece she held out to him, "Very well, my lady. It would be my honor to serve in his highness's stead."

Kainen turned away as he stripped off his massive silverite armor, donning the golden mail which was synonymous with Cailan. She helped with buckles he could not reach. She gave a nod of approval before he placed the golden helm with its flowing purple plume on his head, covering his face completely. "You look like the real deal. Now say something. Don't lift the visor, though."

Ser Garel deepened his voice a tad to match the timbre Cailan's had, "To glorious battle!"

"To glorious battle," she echoed, winking at him approvingly. "Now go kick some darkspawn ass!"

Kainen all but pushed him out of the pavilion tent, "Be safe, and know that I'll be waiting for you to come back to me." She noticed Duncan walking toward them. "Duncan, do take care of my darling Cailan. Try to keep him focused. He told me he's too focused on defeating this epic evil to make any speeches."

Duncan chuckled, finding it hard to believe that the impetuous Cailan Theirin would be focused. A muscle in his cheek ticked, "I'll do my best, Lady Cousland."

"My sincerest regards concerning your safety go with you as well, Duncan."

Duncan chuckled, "You are too kind, my lady." Then Duncan and 'Cailan' walked away, heading for the battlefield down in the valley. Kainen took a deep breath in attempt to calm her frazzled nerves. She quietly beseeched the Maker to forgive her trespasses against Cailan and Ser Garel. Somehow she knew she'd never see either Ser Garel or Duncan again and knew her decision had been the right one. If it saved Cailan's life, she would risk everything.

~~~



Two of a Kind Ch. 01



I never considered myself lesbian. Bisexual maybe but not even that felt completely right. I used to say "I can live without pussy but not without cock." When the term heteroflexible came into vogue that felt much better, more accurate. So how is it that I find myself telling you the story of two women in love? Happenstance. Fate. Just pure dumb luck maybe? But however Jenny and I came to be, or how many people look down their noses at us, it does not matter, because love is love and it is more powerful than hate. That is what we teach our children anyway. So how did it happen? How did two 'non-lesbian' women end up in such a deep and committed relationship?

It all began in the park one hot summer day. I had taken my 'special' princess out for her daily park trip. Since I taught her at home, I tried extra hard to make sure that she got plenty of time with other children. Socialization as they called it was a huge part of our curriculum, especially when you are raising an autistic child, who does not understand to the unspoken rules of 'polite' society. But unlike most of the other mothers, who could simply bring their children to the park and plop their fat asses on a bench for hours, I had to remain vigilant with Crystal. She had gotten better at understand most of the rules like sharing and taking turns, after two years of my hard work, but she still liked to boss other children around, get her way and play her games then run off without a word. So I spent most of time explaining her unusual behaviors to the other children and their parents. 

This day she had glommed onto a young girl about her age, which was unusual; she usually preferred to play with younger children who did not question her authority. I watched as they played for several minutes. Slowly the tension began to drain from my body as I noticed the other gently negotiate and even trick Crystal into compromises. For about five seconds I allowed myself to hope that my daughter might actually have found a 'real' friend. Of course, I quickly stamped out that crazy idea; the girl had not weathered one of her meltdowns yet. But I would enjoy the moment as I watched them run around together, laughing and just being kids.

Then I noticed a boy, a couple of years older than them, approach. While Crystal can sometimes manage one-on-one 'friendships,' anything more is certainly beyond her. I stepped forward, on alert, ready to intercede at a moment's notice. Then I noticed her. Another mother on the other side of the park with a baby in her arms. She was doing the exact same thing. It felt strangely surreal. Almost as if here was another me. Younger certainly. Prettier for sure. But another mother, who battled like a lioness for her cubs in a world where the word protective had become a bad thing. 

We reached the kids, who were still playing rather nicely at almost the same time. The words, 'I'm sorry my child...' emerged from our mouths at the same exact moment. We both burst into laughter. Her name was Marcy and these were her children Josh and Mandy. Like Crystal, Josh was high-functioning autistic, which explained why Mandy knew exactly how to manage my daughter's bossy behaviors. We sat down on a bench nearby and let the children do what they do...settle things for themselves. Oh, a couple of times, they could not and came to us, but that was all right too.We stayed in that park until dark that night and considering it was the middle of summer that was quite late. We exchanged cell phone numbers and agreed to meet back there the next day. 

I would not say there were any 'sexual' sparks then but I admit I was as excited about seeing them again as a teenage girl going to her first homecoming. When we got there the next day, I was disappointed that they did not come. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for a major meltdown when Crystal realized that her friend was not there. But she just ran off to find a new one. I looked around again and felt my heart drop when I did not see them on closer inspection. Perhaps I had gotten the time wrong? We had been there almost an hour when I looked up and saw a haggled Marcy rushing a packed stroller and two cross children towards me. It seems that Josh had a meltdown. Why did he have to go to a dumb park? Crystal wasn't his friend. I sighed and smiled, realizing how much more complicated this young woman had it, trying to balance the needs of three children, not just one. 

We did not stay until dark that time. Instead I invited them back to our apartment for dinner and video games. The girls rushed into Crystal's room to play with her 'hundred' dolls while Marcy and I set Josh up in my bedroom on the computer to play some online war game. Even baby Sadie decided to give Mommy a break and nap in her buggy for a bit. I made us large glasses of iced tea while the lasagna baked in the oven. We talked. Just talked. 

I discovered so many things about her that night. Her husband had been one of those private contractors working security in the oil fields. He had been killed almost a year before, but even before that she had felt like a single parent for most of the children's lives. Even when he was home, he was more trouble than help. He always questioned everything she did. He especially resented that it was his only son with the autism, blaming her somehow, she babied him too much, just needed to make a man out of him. 

I nodded my head in understanding. Crystal's father was just as bad. He never knew how to manage her behaviors. When she came home from his house, it took at least a day, sometimes two or three, to get her settled back down. Why were supposedly strong men such idiots, we joked and laughed over tea. Wouldn't the world be a better place if women ruled and just kept most of them in chains? It was silly and we did not genuinely mean it of course. But I think in some odd way, it sowed seeds of feminine prowess in our minds.

That became a pattern that summer. Parks, museums, even just time spent in one another's home. I will never forget the day that Marcy admit in tears to me that until that afternoon she and the children had never been invited into anyone's home. A single mom with three 'wild' children, she had been as isolated as I was. I hugged her then. No, not like that. Just a simple hug. The kind you give a sister or best friend.

The other did not come until later, much later. We decided after that summer to take the children away for a vacation. Of course, two single mothers cannot afford a lot so we decided to purchase a tent and take them to the state park, which was only a couple of hours away. We some careful planning even Crystal and Josh should be able to manage that. 

To prepare those two for the sights, smells and sounds of camping we decided to start out a couple of weeks early...in my living room. We sat the tent up as best we could in there. We even got one of those stupid nature CDs to play for the sounds. Of course, we discovered that flashlights and lanterns had to be purchased along with loads of batteries. 

The next week we upped the game a bit...spending the whole night in the tent in Marcy's backyard. The kids did surprisingly well. Better than this old woman's back that is for sure. Marcy found me a couple of strong tablets for the pain. She even found what my grandmother used to call 'horse liniment' that green smelly mint stuff. I have to say that her fingers were magic when she massaged it into my lower back. I actually told her so too. She just blushed and said that she got enough practice when her husband was alive as he had a bad back.

Of course, neither Josh nor Crystal wanted smelly old me anywhere near that tent. Marcy laughing reassured me that she could manage the situation as she put me to bed in her room. She did agree to let baby Sadie sleep in there with me so at least she did not have them all to manage. I felt super guilty the next morning when I was awoken by cute kids bearing pancakes on a tray. Marcy stood in the door way wearing one of her husband's old t-shirts that was virtually threadbare. She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders when I said that she shouldn't have.

I think that is the moment when I truly began to fall in love with this woman. Not just the friendship that had been developing all summer long. Not some sex-driven, hormone-filled lust thing but genuine, true, deep and abiding love. Partnership. The kind that I had spent a quarter of a century looking for with men. Here was someone who was intelligent, strong, and as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Why had I not seen it before? Probably because I got hung up on the whole lesbian thing. I realized that morning that you fall in love with a person...not genitalia.

But what the hell was I going to do about it? Marcy and I had talked a couple of weeks back about why she did not date. She said that she just was not interested. That her marriage had taught her that relationships were more work than they were worth and that as bad as it sounded sometimes she was glad to be free of those encumbrances. So if she had no interest in men, what made me think she might be interested in women? Me in particular. I mean beyond friendship of course. What even made me think that as complicated as our lives were wee could make it work anyway? 

The simple truth that I came to as I pondered my new feelings for Marcy that week as we prepared for our 'family' vacation was...because we were already making it work. In so many ways we had already done the hardest part. We had blended our complex families to the point that we spent more time together than apart. We relied on one another. Hell, Mandy and Crystal had already decided that they were sisters. The only thing missing really was the sex.

Now like I said I am not a 'lesbian' virgin. I had been with a few women in my lifetime, but most of those were for my ex-husband's pleasure, part of his swinging fantasies. But this situation did remind me of my first sexual experience in college with a sorority sister. A drunken fumbling around that had arisen from the depths of our friendship. I laughed as I realized that despite my boasts about living without pussy but not cock, my very first time had been with another woman. Maybe as Shakespeare said..."me thinks the lady doth protest too much." But as we loaded my SUV down with camping gear, food to meet the needs of not one but two picky eaters and more kids than we had sense, I still had no fucking idea how to broach the subject with Marcy.

The drive was a nightmare. A total and complete disaster. Crystal was constantly complaining of car sickness. Josh was fidgeting and fighting with his sister because he was in her space. It was the type of thing that usually met with condemning stares from those all around them. They were forced to pull over at every rest area along the route and even get off the highway a couple of times just to quiet the discord. A trip that should have taken a couple of hours took the whole day. It was early evening as they pulled into their campsite. And it was almost dark by the time that two single mothers had managed to struggle with the tent even though we had put it up and taken it down a couple of times already.

It was pitch black and probably close to midnight by the time that we had gotten everyone settled into their sleeping bags. I was exhausted and stressed and I could tell from the slump in her shoulders and the unusual quiet that Marcy was too. We had managed to get a campfire going simply because it was going to be chilly this high up in the mountains. And we could not afford to cope with sick kids on top of everything else.

"You look about like I feel," I joked as she emerged from settling another personal space dispute between Mandy and Josh. Of course, she had had to put Sadie back to sleep as well since the argument had woken the baby. I had held my breath expecting Crystal to cry out for a drink of water, but she had been blessedly quiet. 

She shook her head and chuckled, "You feel that bad too? I thought it was just me that took everything so personally."

"Come take a seat by the fire. Rest a bit," I replied as I patted the ground next to me. Marcy nodded and plopped down hard. I wanted to scoop her into my arms and protect her the same way that I would Crystal. But I resisted the urge. I did not want to move too fast, scare her off.

We sat in silence for several long minutes just watching the flames pop and jump. I noticed that huge crocodile tears were coursing their way down her cheeks then. I reached out and brushed them away softly with my fingers. "Don't cry," I pleaded. I wanted to reassure her that things were not that bad. That everything would be all right in the end. But when you are a single mother of a special needs child both of those statements are simply lies. And I did not ever want there to be lies between us. 

She smiled weakly as she turned her head to look into my eyes in the dim light of that campfire. "Do you ever wish things could be different? I mean not like you wish the kids away or anything. Just that you wish things were easier. That people were not always judging you. Looking at you like you and your kids are monsters or something. I don't know. I probably am not making any sense. It is late. I am tired and just talking non-sense I know. But from the moment we met, I just felt that you were probably the only person in the whole wide world who could understand. That got me. Sometimes I wish..." she got really silent then.

I held my breath. Everything that she said made perfect sense. I could not have said it better myself. I had thought those very things a million times over the past couple of years since Crystal had been diagnosed with autism and honestly even before that when I knew that something was not right but did not have a label to explain her unusual behaviors. She was right about all of it, but what did she wish? I was almost afraid to ask. So we went back to staring silently into that fire again.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted to make things better for Marcy. Lighten her load. Share her burdens. I wanted to take her in my arms and hold and comfort her after a bad day like this. I wanted to kiss away those tears as a lover not simply brush them aside as a friend. But how? How did we get to there from here? How could I possibly make this beautiful young creature understand that our friendship could be so much more? Finally, I worked up the courage to ask, "What do you wish, Marcy?"

She remained silent for several more long moments. I thought perhaps she had not heard me. Or worse yet, perhaps she no longer wanted to share her innermost feelings and thoughts with me. I was just about to get up, pretend that I had never asked and go off to my bed in the tent alone...as alone as I had been for years, as alone as I would probably be for the rest of my life. I was about to give up. 

Marcy chuckled softly. The sound did funny things to my tummy. It made me want to kiss her silly, show her that soft could be as demanding as hard masculinity. It made me want to hold her and squeeze her so tightly that she could never get away. It made me want to show her all the love that was swirling inside of me.

Her words when she finally spoke floored me as nothing ever had, not even when the doctors gave me the diagnosis of autism had I been as shocked as I was in that moment. She shrugged her shoulders that were stooped under so many burdens. She was too young to bear them all alone. She should not have to. I was so caught up in those thoughts that I almost missed her whispered confession. In fact, I was not certain I heard her right at all. "What? What did you say, Marcy?" I asked dumbfounded. 

She shrunk back a bit and stared at the ground. I put my hand on her shoulder. Turned her to face me. "No, Marcy, what did you say?" 

She would not meet my gaze even then, she stared steadfastly down at the ground as she shrugged. "I know it is silly. Honest I do. But sometimes," those tears were back and they were breaking my heart. "Sometimes do you ever wish that one of us was a guy. I mean that we could be together. For real. A couple, you know?"

To be continued...



Two of a Kind Ch. 02



Bashta didn't understand the looks that Piscel kept shooting at him. His smile seemed a bit less than friendly and a bit mocking, as if he was laughing at him. Maybe he was actually looking at Cavel, since Bashta was walking beside him. Bashta wasn't able to fight his fascination any longer; his dream the night before made that clear. That morning he had started walking at the front of the group but quickly dropped back near the rear of the group with Cavel after they were on a good trail.

"What's the matter?" Cavel asked from behind him as they approached a small stream, choked and filled with stagnant water.

"I'm fine," he answered quickly. Bashta tried to walk normally but things were rapidly growing uncomfortable in his loin cloth as he remembered the dream vividly from night before.

"Ah gods!" Bashta gasped as a wet warm mouth sucked on his neck before sliding down to engulf his nipple. A shock ran through his body making him gasp as Cavel bit down and then soothed the throb with a swipe of his tongue. Tingles raced through his body and his manhood hardened in seconds. Cavel's heavy body pinned his hips to the ground as he tried desperately to move them to get some relief.

Cavel lifted his head up and chuckled seductively, "Like that do you?" It was his turn to gasp when Bashta squirmed just the right way to rub their erections together. "God's mercy!" Cavel buried his head in the curve where Bashta's neck met his shoulder, latching on to the hot, tangy skin and sucking hard. Bashta's hands clenched on his biceps and held on tight as their hips began to rock faster and faster. Cavel threw his head back and began cry out as he...

"Hey, be careful!" Cavel jerked Bashta back against his chest as they walked along a slippery log.

"Damn it!" Bashta swore, pulling hurriedly away from Cavel and almost slipped again. He quickly moved to the end and hopped off the log.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to grab you," Cavel said as he followed, landing heavily. "I just didn't think you wanted to fall in that." He gestured toward the smelly water they had just crossed.

"No, I didn't; thank you." Bashta was glad he was in front of Cavel. He has been woken up at that same instant that morning by the cry of an irate monkey. 

Unable to fall back asleep Bashta had laid there under the stars and it wasn't long before his hand crept down to where his erection still pushed firmly against his loincloth. His shuddering cry minutes later had been swallowed by the sounds of the animals waking up as the sun prepared to rise but he blushed at the memory. It made him both want to be around Cavel and a little too embarrassed to talk to him. Mostly they walked together quietly, with small stilted exchanges about the exotic jungle as they traveled. Cavel was seemed almost as fascinated with the scents and sights hidden in the dense foliage as he was in Bashta.

The midday meal brought an easier companionship with the men including both of them in their banter. They sat around on fallen logs and ate their military surplus meals, joking about the bland flavor and unappealing textures. It was the first time that Bashta didn't run off as soon as they stopped. The afternoon rest he passed sleeping high in a tree above the small group of clan men, unable to sleep on the ground even with the safety in numbers they provided. He climbed down when the intense heat of the midday sun eased and it was time to resume their trek.

"How do you do that?" Piscel asked as he watched him climb down, alternating hands and feet until he was low enough to let go and land lightly on the balls of his feet.

"Do what?" Bashta's forehead was wrinkled in confusion as he brushed bits of bark off his hands.

"Climb up and down the trees and sleep up there like that. Isn't it uncomfortable?"

He shrugged. "I've been sleeping in the trees for years. It's safer than on the ground. It's not so bad, when you get used to it. Plus I don't normally just sleep on the branches like that. I usually stay at one of the nests I've made over the years for a day or two and then move to the next one."

"Why?" Cavel asked from where he still sat under a tree, sipping from his water bag.

Bashta's hands clenched and then he relaxed them. "It's not that safe to be on your own in the jungle. It's best not to stay in one place too long. Humans, animals, just forgetting to keep up your guard when walking can be fatal. I have no clan, no one to help me or watch my back." Bashta thought back to that morning when he stumbled on the log. It was the first time in years someone had been watching out for him.

It felt good and was scary at the same time. He couldn't get used to it; not when he could just end up alone again.

"How long have you been alone?" Cavel asked quietly, almost as if he read Bashta's mind. He tried to move closer and Bashta skittered away.

"Let's go. It's a few more days to the Temple and you don't have time to waste." He struck out in front, hoping the questions would stop. It was too much thinking, too much remembering.

That afternoon the men didn't ask him any more questions so Bashta stayed with them instead of ranging ahead and through the trees. The breaks in the silence were soothing, the little sounds people made as they traveled together easing some of the aching loneliness he felt as he tried desperately to avoid thinking about before he met them. 

Unwilling to give that feeling up he ended up eating the evening meal with them as well before heading off to sleep in the trees. He had a repeat of the dream from the night before but this time he woke up already sticky and sweating, gasping as his heart pounded furiously after his release.

The next two days they continued to tramp wearily through the jungle. The men kept passing the backpacks between each other so that no one was burdened every day but they were all tired of hiking through the humid landscape. Not even the sounds of the strange animals coming out each night were enough to keep them awake any longer. Bashta took to sleeping closer and closer to their camp but he missed his comfortable nests.

"Are we even close?" Cavel asked on the fourth morning. He was rubbing a handkerchief over his face and grimaced at the stale, sweaty smell. He thrust it into his pocket and picked up his pack to end the short break they were taking.

"We'll be at the river soon," Bashta assured him. "From there it's just about another half day to the Temple."

"I wish we could take a rest. I'm sick of tramping through this muck on those disgusting army rations," Mackent complained.

Saulle swung around from his place in the lead and snarled at him. "I'm sure our kitlings wished they weren't dying."

Mackent glared back. "That's not what I meant and you know it! I care about the kitlings just as much as you do!" Both men's claws were sliding in and out as they flexed their fingers as they squared off, snarling with flattened ears.

"Enough!" Cavel ordered. He stood straight and tall between the posturing men. Emotions were running high and they were growing short with each other. They all needed a break. Bashta stood to one side but he could see the men ignoring Cavel. If they lost control with him in between them blood would fly, and not just each other's. He needed to redirect them.

"I do have a plan for a treat during this afternoon's rest but I'll need help," Bashta said softly. All eyes turned on him and he blushed. He rarely spoke without being asked a question, the habit of casual speech one he had lost while on his own.

"We'll be at the river soon and I was thinking we could catch some pacu for a meal." His stomach found their bagged food hard to digest and Bashta had been forced to find his own evening meal after the first dinner he had tried. He did like the eggs though; they were unlike anything he had ever tried before. Pacu would be a welcome respite from the fruit and roots he had been eating.

"Pacu?" Piscel piped up as he began walking again. Tensions were still high but the air of imminent violence faded away as they began slowly moving toward the river again. "What are pacu?"

"A small silver fish a little bigger than my hand. They are good. Plus the spot I am taking us to is near a stand of tucuma. Roasted, the flesh is good with the fish."

Piscel's eyes shone at the thought of fresh food. He licked his lips. "Can I help you fish?" he asked eagerly.

Bashta smiled at him shyly. Out of all the men there he liked Piscel the most. He was so good-natured it was easy to relax around him. He often walked alongside the man, listening as he talked about his home and family. Bashta liked to hear of all the wonders he didn't really understand, like cars and TV. "Yes, I will show you how I do it." He moved up, walking next to Piscel, ignoring the rest of the men but talking loud enough they could hear him.

"Umm, do these fish have teeth? Like piranhas?" Piscel asked as they fell in step with each other.

"Well... yes, sort of. But we don't have to catch them by hand. Besides, they eat the tucuma mostly." His voice trailed off as the men started talking quietly again as they walked. Piscel grinned at him and winked. When Bashta looked back Cavel mouthed, 'Thank you'. Bashta nodded his head. The men were under a lot of stress; the only surprise was that no one actually attacked each other in the small spats that flared up.

***

"Here," Bashta said cryptically, stopping at a tall tree. "What? Here is where exactly?" Cavel looked around but he didn't see the river. "I need to go up here. I will meet you at the river." Bashta gripped the tree with his hands and the arches of his feet as he began to climb up. "But... Bashta, wait! Where is the river?" Cavel asked, confused.

Bashta paused, his mouth dropping open before he laughed at himself. Light and amused, the laugh made Cavel smile even though he was confused.

"Well?" he asked with one eyebrow raised.

Bashta smiled ruefully, "Sorry, I forgot. Follow the tapir track. It will lead you all the way to the river."

"Tapir? You didn't make this trail?" Cavel looked around warily. "Is it safe?"

"No, I didn't make it. I stay in the trees most of the time when I travel alone. It's just faster to stay on the ground while I travel with you," explained Bashta. "I don't mind too much. You guys also protect me. But you don't have to worry; most tapirs will avoid people, especially a group." Shifting his grip, Bashta looked up the tree and then back down at Cavel.

"Go, go," Cavel said, smiling gently. "We'll be waiting by the river." He hated it when Bashta left his side but he was following Piscel's advice. It had been working so far. He could not act as possessively as his inner cat was prompting him to as he watched his mate move away, not if he wanted to keep him in the long run.

The party kept walking, pushing through the overgrown plants that filled the jungle floor and sometimes choked the faint animal trail. Even without Bashta to point them out the men saw many of the animals that called the jungle home; toucans with long bills, monkeys sitting high up in the trees in groups or alone, and the never-ending insects, colored by nature into living jewels to decorate the trees and plants around them. It was only about two hours later when they reached the edge of the river, a wide expanse of dark brown water lined by white sandy beaches along both banks.

"Wow, this is beautiful," Mackent sighed, the sunshine from the bright patch of sky above them shining on his upturned face. "Sky! I missed the sky."

"Mmhmm," Cavel mumbled. He squinted as he looked all around. He wasn't looking at the beach or the river, though; he was gazing up at the trees, scanning them from left to right. "Do you see Bashta?"

"I don't think so." Piscel shaded his eyes from the sun and looked up at the trees.

Cavel frowned. "He said he was going to meet us here. Where is he?"

Piscel chuckled at him, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow. "You've got it bad, don't you?"

Cavel smiled ruefully and nodded, "Yeah yeah... My mate has me wrapped around his finger and he doesn't even know he's my mate."

Snorting, Piscel grinned. "It is kind of sad."

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Cavel glowered at him.

"If you were any more besotted you would have stars in your eyes. You're already mooning over him like a giddy schoolgirl."

"I am not!"

"Yeah, you are," Saulle said with a hint of bitterness as he walked by. He had kept his space from both Cavel and Bashta. He still had issues to work out of his own. Cavel twisted to one side to look at him. He raised one eyebrow as if in invitation.

Saulle ducked his head a little, and then looked up with a faint smile. "Most newly mated do, in one way or another," he said by way of a peace offering.

"I remember your days of courting and wooing Nallelija," Mackent crowed from his place under a shady tree where he had dropped his pack. "You were frantic when you couldn't find the perfect flowers to present to her before your mating ceremony. One would think that her acceptance of you hinged on the perfect color of the red and white roses you wanted for the circlet."

"It had to be perfect!" Saulle protested. "Do you even see how beautiful she is? And that hair! That smooth fall of pure yellow silk required the most beautiful ornament." Saulle smiled; his eyes dreamy as he thought of his mate. 

She was his life, even now growing round and lush with their second kitling. Their daughter, Ariella, was the spitting image of her; though her round cheeks had begun to grow hollow with fever before they left. His shoulders slumped and he turned away. Every man there knew where his thoughts turned and several looked down, stomachs clenched in fear. Several ears flicked as they tried to keep them from flattening in anguish.

"We will find a cure." Cavel walked up behind Saulle and put his hand on his shoulder. Turning him, Cavel pulled him into a tight hug. "We will not fail. Ariella will be healed and your new kitling will be born healthy. I will not fail."

Saulle nodded, his head bowed. The men were frozen in a moment of silence, remembering again their families, their kitlings; the whole reason they were there. The only sounds were the buzz of insects in the midday heat and the shuffle of the brown birds flocking nearby. More than one man surreptitiously wiped tears from under their eyes.

"TZAAK!"

The men all jumped and then laughed at their fright as the flock of birds fled into the clearing from behind them, frantically moving in all different directions, squawking and calling out in harsh cries. A few flew over the river but most ran in a circle and then back into the jungle. They were loud as they created havoc in the previously serene landscape. The midday stillness was gradually restored but the men were startled again just moments later.

A small knife touched Cavel's neck and he gasped. The hot metal was a fiery line across his neck that came and went in the space of a heartbeat but his small sound and the sharp smell of fear suddenly flooded the area. No one moved but all eyes were riveted on Cavel as he stood to one side of the clearing next to Saulle.

"You never even thought to wonder what made them scatter, did you?" Bashta asked as he casually sheathed his unbloodied knife. He stood there frowning at the men. "I was able to sneak up on you, even when the animals gave you warning. Were I an enemy your alpha would be dead or injured. Here you must worry about attacks by predators who would challenge even you. You cannot be lulled by slow moving waters or warm beaches. There are hidden dangers all around you."

The men all stared at Bashta in consternation. He had appeared in their midst without a single man becoming aware of him. His speech was even more unexpected and taken more seriously for the rarity. He had seldom spoken and even then it was quietly, either to Piscel or Cavel. He stood differently, looked different, as he confronted them.

Cavel turned and let his gaze travel slowly up Bashta's body. He was wearing leather foot coverings, molded and tied with thongs around his slender feet and ankles. His loincloth was longer, the front flap extending farther down his thighs. A stone pendant shaped in a sharp spike hung around his neck and he had a wide bag of some sort of fibrous material slung across his chest which was marked with several long red scratches. The material on his arms was the oddest addition, some sort of hard covering that looking like the bark of a tree branch extending from wrists to elbows.

"What happened to you?" Cavel said in astonishment.

Bashta looked down. "I needed to get a few things so I could gather some fruit for the meal I promised." He unwound the cord tying the coverings to his arms and showed the flexible bend of the material. "This is the inner bark of a palm tree; it protects me from the tucuma tree spines."

He looked west, upstream along the course of the river. "From here the trip isn't much farther but I have no nests along the way with supplies. My people have never lived close to the Temple. To do so could lure strangers in and let them find the hidden paths. To enter the Temple, to approach the home of the oracle, certain rites must be observed. For that we will need some things that I cannot find between here and there. Fortunately I had a cache nearby."

He dropped the bag off his shoulder and crouched down, digging through it. He pulled out about twenty small oval fruits with a deep orange color and piled them in the sand. Reaching further inside he pulled out several hooks attached to homemade fiber line in a neat coil. Bashta used his knife to slice into one of the fruits and cut several chunks. Threading it onto the hooks he stood up.

"Who's ready to do some fishing?" 

Several men showed interest so Bashta took them over to an area where trees grew down near the water. "This is tucuma fruit, pacu will eat just about anything but they really like this." He showed them how to uncoil the line and drop it into likely spots along the bank.

They sat drowsily in the midday heat for several minutes holding the line in their hands before Piscel yelled. He stood up, pulling his line up hand over hand. One the end was a silver fish, about the size of his hand with sharp teeth. He nicked a finger getting the hook out but he proudly held up his fish to show Bashta.

"It looks like a picture I saw of a piranha. It doesn't eat flesh does it? I was thinking of taking a dip later."

Smiling, Bashta clapped him on the arm. "No, they eat fruit. It took the bait on your hook, didn't it?"

"Oh yeah." He blushed and then grabbed another piece of fruit. Piscel strung it on his hook by himself and dropped it back in the water.

"Can I try?" Cavel asked. He had stayed with the group setting up camp but seeing Bashta touch Piscel brought out all of his territorial instincts. He walked over and stood looming over the seated group. He didn't say a word but Piscel immediately scrambled up and handed him the line, moving away from Bashta. There was a dangerous glint in Cavel's eyes as he watched him retreat.

"Uhh, I think I'll go get wood to start a fire for these fish since I already got to catch one."

Bashta flushed when Cavel sat down next to him, close enough for their knees to touch. He could feel heat radiating from that one small spot of contact. He shifted uneasily but didn't move away, liking the breathless, tight feeling in his stomach and chest he got from it. He glanced at Cavel shyly from the corner of his eye, quickly looked away when he met those dark eyes watching him intently.

"So, you fish for these often?" Cavel asked casually, scratching his thigh and brushing their arms together. Bashta shuddered and Cavel smiled.

"Yes," he said quietly. "They are plentiful and their flesh is sweet." He moved just enough to brush Cavel's back, shivering again at his daring as he reached for another tucuma fruit. They sat together and fished, trading small subtle touches. By the end of an hour the group fishing had more than a dozen fish. They baked them threaded on green sticks over the fire and rounded out the meal with the small pile of sweet fruits that Bashta had brought, sucking the sweet and musky juice and then biting into the pale flesh.




Two of a Kind Ch. 02



Mackent groaned as he laid back in the shade, "Oh so good. I don't even want to think about moving." Several of the men nodded as they relaxed. Saulle glanced at Bashta and then looked down at his hands fiddling with a leaf, the thick, broad flesh doubling as a napkin to hold the hot fish.

"Yes, it was very good. Thank you," he said quietly. The men all watched Bashta's reaction surreptitiously. The pair had avoided each other since Bashta began guiding them several days before. It had created even more tension in the usually close knit group was already strained by their leader's erratic mood and the fear for their families.

Bashta bit his lip. Hesitating, Bashta finally took a breath. "You're welcome."

Shoulders relaxed and some of the men grinned. A good part of the tension in the air disappeared. As the heat of the day spiked, everyone found cool places and lay down for a rest. Cavel lay on his side facing Bashta who had been sitting cross-legged, using a knife from his bag to carve one of the round black seeds of the small orange fruits.

The soft eyes staring at him made Bashta as nervous as before but in all new ways. His dreams, the small touches, the feelings he was getting every time he got close to Cavel made him feel increasingly restless for more, but he didn't know what he really wanted. He wasn't sleeping well these last few nights and the afternoons had been spent fantasizing more than anything else. He glanced at the man sleeping by his side with heat in his eyes.

Bashta wished his father was there; someone, anyone, he could talk to about what he was feeling. It overwhelmed him and made him long for things that weren't safe to want. He settled back on his elbows and stared up at the leaves dappled by the sunlight. He tried to stop but he couldn't resist turning his head sideways and looking again at the now relaxed face lying within arm's reach. Cavel's face was stern and serious whenever he was awake but asleep his cares weighed on him less and he looked softer, kinder. This was the first time Bashta really had a chance to study it without having to worry about being caught.

He slid down to lay on his side and watched Cavel as his lips fluttered and then smiled quickly before falling back into peaceful lines. Bashta could almost swear he could feel a burst of excitement and joy from him. Unable to look away, he curled into a ball and watched, eyes tracing the full black eyebrows, the thin eyelids covering the dark eyes, the straight blade like nose above full lips that were slightly parted. There were dirt smudges, sweat, and lines drawn by care and fear, but overall it was a handsome face, a good face. Cavel had proved to be a good man.

Bashta's eyes slowly closed until he too fell asleep with his head pillowed on his arms, his mind showing him the things he could only dream of.

***

That afternoon Bashta and Cavel talked a lot. Speaking of their lives, dancing around their true thoughts, they traveled along the river until they reached a tributary that led up to a jutting headland in the distance. Cavel looked at the cliff and worked his hands together, twisting his fingers as he thought.

"Are you sure we will reach it in time?" He glanced worriedly at Bashta who nodded.

"Yes. It is closer than it looks. There are only three major curves in this river and there are places to cross on two of them that will save us time. We will be there by mid-afternoon at the latest. That will give us plenty of time to rest before we enter the Temple."

Cavel frowned. "I'm going to want to go to the Temple right away, Bashta. Our kitlings could be dying. I can't worry about resting." He felt guilty, looking at his feet and muttering, "Or anything else either."

"I won't lead you in before dusk; it's against tradition, forbidden. Besides, does it make sense to face something so unknown at less than the best you can be?" Bashta looked at him with an eyebrow raised. He turned and ducked under a branch of a tree that dipped down toward the water, walking even as they argued.

"Fuck tradition! We have to!" Cavel snapped in frustration, glaring at him when he stood up from ducking under the branch as well. "How could you possibly wait on tradition when our kitlings could be dying? Do you want what happened to your clan to happen to mine?" Bashta flinched and his face turned white. Tears came to his eyes but he blinked furiously to keep them from falling. He turned and fled, disappearing quickly into the jungle, leaving a stricken Cavel behind.

"Bashta! Wait!"

Saulle shook his head; he had been walking behind the pair and heard everything they said. Cavel turned his mood on him next. "What? You should be happy. We know where to find the Temple and he's gone. That's what you wanted all along anyway wasn't it? You can rest easy; I'll never have the chance to bond my mate and be happy." 

Saulle simply looked at Cavel and didn't say a word.

The men had stopped walking and were watching him with open mouths and shocked expressions. Cavel turned away, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes and shook his head, regretting the words even as they flew from his mouth. The stress he was under as a clan leader yet remaining unmated for years, finding his mate unexpectedly, the sudden 'tradition' a road block to getting the lives of his clan back safely... It all conspired to break him emotionally. 

He dropped to his knees and buried his hands into the dry sand, shaking silently as he fought back tears.

Saulle swept a glance across the men and they quickly moved off. He knelt down next to Cavel.

"You are not responsible for this disease. You are not the only man here who is trying to save our kitlings. You take on too much."

"But I am responsible!" Cavel cried. He raised his head, his face ravaged by pain and his eyes shiny with all the tears he held back. "I told my father I would keep our clan together; I swore to him that I would always protect us. I am a black jaguar, an alpha! This is who I am, what I am supposed to do. If I can't do this, if I can't save them..." His voice trailed off.

"You will do your very best and that is all anyone can do," Saulle said simply. 

Cavel shook his head in denial. 

"Yes! You, unbonded and unchanged, have led us into becoming the largest jaguar clan in the western hemisphere. Your strength has brought our clan together more solidly than ever before and we are more prosperous, more harmonious as a whole than ever before. We have a support system to protect us and a family to succor us. We have all this because you care about us, not just being in charge. You found someone to help us here, just when we were giving up hope. I won't say I believe he can truly be your mate, but if he is, he will be back. You have to believe that without you, we would never have had this chance.

"No matter what happens at the Temple, if we find the cure we need or not, you are not to blame. You did not bring this on our people. You need to understand and believe this." Saulle reached out and gripped Cavel's shoulder. "You are not to blame."

Cavel's anguished eyes filled with tears. He closed them, looking down at the ground in shame. "I just feel so alone all the time. I drove him away, Saulle. I can't feel him. He's gone. What if he doesn't come back? If we can't find a cure for the kitlings? If the rest of the clan is sick when we get back?" Cavel rocked back on his knees and looked up at the sky and the tall trees standing silently over them. When he looked back down at Saulle the tears had overflowed and were running down his face.

"When does this get better? When does life stop being so hard?" he cried.

"I don't know," Saulle said helplessly. He hugged Cavel. "I don't know."

***

Bashta wasn't far in body, but in his mind he was years away. 

He huddled in a tree out of site of the clan men as memories of the deaths of his siblings assaulted him. His father, his friends, every member of his tribe gone in such a short time. It began slowly with a fever that came and went for months. No one in his tribe worried until the fever turned into a wet cough. Sometimes it went on for days, sometimes only hours before the black marks showed up on the victim's face and hands. 

By that point the person was raving, coughing blood, spreading their sickness to everyone they touched. But everyone, everyone who came in contact with them once the black marks showed up died the same way. They marred the bodies after death, on the bodies of his loved ones that his mother refused to let him touch.

They had been away at the Temple to heal Bashta when it happened. 

He had fallen out of a tree and cut his back, a long deep tear on a jagged branch. There were magical springs inside the Temple his people believed could purge wounds of the foul smelling ooze that sometimes came from bad wounds and when he became hot and his back swollen his mother took him to them. Alone, they were gone just a week and when they returned it was to a dead village and the sign of a plague marked into the very tree his father had fallen under as he warned them away before he died in front of them. Screaming Bashta had tried to go to him but his mother picked him up and fled, protecting her only remaining kitling as her mate had commanded her.

She had held on to her humanity after losing her mate for just long enough. For months she forced him to learn and grow strong, as he watched her fall deeper and deeper into that wild place that existed in all Carthera. She pulled away, her grip on her humanity fading. He didn't know what to do or say to help her as he dealt with his own fear and anguish at the deaths of their clan. The pain she felt from the loss of her bond became too much and one day when he woke up she was gone.

The last living link to his people had faded away in the night and he never saw her again. His screams had scared every animal around him but she didn't return to him. He waited for days in the nest before he was forced to admit to himself his mother was gone.

The only thing left to him was to protect the Temple, to take on the sacred duty his clan had always been charged with. His parents were black jaguars. They had been alphas. As their son, he had been schooled in the rites and duties since he was born and he swore he wouldn't fail. He would protect the Temple from all interlopers.

But that was before he saw the pain in Cavel's eyes. 

Before his words brought back the agony and loss Bashta felt when his clan was decimated by a sickness no one could cure. 

Was his dedication to tradition and the ancient ways his clan had followed since their charge began a risk to lives he had never known? Too much, it was too much. Overwhelmed, he rocked as he battled the questions and memories in his mind until he was too exhausted to think at all. His eyes slipped shut and he finally slept.

He wearily climbed out of the tree when the dawn rose and plodded back toward where he had left Cavel and his clan members. With his head down he didn't even notice the bodies until he tripped over the first one. It was Saulle. He had been on his side but the force from Bashta stumbling over him pushed him over on his back. Bashta's hands came up to cover his mouth as he gagged. His eyes darted around the camp. Insects buzzed over the bodies as he took halting steps closer to each one. Piscel, Mackent, Tarnel, Xanshun... All of them bloated and beginning to stink, their faces barely recognizable.

"No, no, no," Bashta whimpered as he approached a lone figure under a tree marked with words he could not read. That wasn't his black hair, it couldn't be him. The spirits would not have taken him away, they wouldn't. Reaching out with one trembling hand, not even noticing how much smaller than normal it was Bashta shook the man.

"Wake up!" he cried; his voice high and panicked, cracking as tears rolled down his face. "Don't leave me alone again, please. Please wake up, please." Bashta tugged hard on those wide shoulders, moaning as he pulled the body up. There was no resistance as he struggled with the man's weight. His dirty white shirt ripped and as Bashta fell backward the man slid sideways and fell to the ground too, staring eyes sunk deep in his skull, the expressive mouth and strong jaw covered in dried blood. Worst of all were the black smudges that marred the formerly smooth skin.

"No!" he screamed, "Oh No! No!" He couldn't look away, loud denials ringing through the trees.

"Bashta! Wake up!"

Bashta jerked, almost falling out of the tree. Only a large hand wrapping around his bicep kept him from losing his balance completely. He wrapped his legs around the thick branch under him and stared wide-eyed at Cavel. He stretched out an arm toward Cavel, barely touching his arm. He sighed when he touched him and felt his living warmth.

"How did you find me?"

"You were screaming." Cavel looked worried, "Are you okay?" Bashta glanced at the hand still wrapped around his arm, firm yet gentle. Just that contact was enough to keep his speeding heart rate from slowing.

"I... I had a dream." Bashta blushed as he admitted to panicking about something not real. He didn't want to admit that anything was so beyond his control.

"Sounds more like a nightmare." Cavel's thumb made slow circles on the arm it was cupping. Lost in each other's eyes, it was long minutes before either of them became aware of the searching men below them.

"How did you find me up here though?" Bashta asked quietly.

"We were looking for you anyway and then heard the screams. I couldn't feel you when all of a sudden your mind opened to me and I could sense your pain." Bashta flushed in embarrassment and looked distressed. "What did you dream about?" Cavel asked.

Bashta shook his head. He wouldn't think of it, it wasn't real. Cavel didn't push. He looked down at his scraped palms and changed the subject. "It wasn't easy climbing up here though. I don't know how you do it barefoot."

Bashta didn't want to talk about his dream but he latched on something Cavel said, something he desperately wanted to know more about. "You feel me too? What does that mean?" Bashta pulled away, huddling over his knees. "I'm so confused."

"I'm sorry Bashta; I don't want you to feel confused. I was trying to give you time. I should have explained things to you." Cavel sighed. "Let me go tell Saulle I found you and then we'll talk." Cavel slowly climbed down the tree, calling for Saulle who quickly pushed his way out of the brush by the river and met him a small distance from Bashta's tree. They had a quick, hushed conversation and then Cavel laboriously climbed back up into the tree.

"We could talk on the ground," Bashta offered.

"After I already climbed up here?" Cavel shook his head. "Besides, you feel safe up here."

Cavel took in a deep breath and let it go. "Bashta, what do you know about black jaguars?"

"I am one. My parents were both black jaguars, they were mates. My kitmates were all like me, black haired, though the rest of our clan was not. My mother said we would look like them when we got older, having the same markings when we found our destined mates. "

"Yes, all jaguars have yellow or reddish hair, except us. Carthera black jaguars always have black hair. It's the overt sign of what we are, separate, different. We are... alphas, leaders. It gives us a power that other jaguars do not have but black jaguars can only mate with black jaguars."

Bashta was surprised. "I didn't know that." He sat upright as a thought flitted across his mind. "Wait... Are you telling me we mated?"

"No, no," Cavel said in denial, "we haven't mated." Before Bashta could react to that Cavel went on. "We are mates though."

Bashta's eyes were huge and his mouth dropped open. "But... but..."

"It's okay," Cavel soothed him with a smooth voice. "I've been trying not to pressure you. There are things I don't understand either but I've accepted it, accepted that you are my mate, since the beginning." He looked at Bashta's body barely visible in the dim light and his eyes heated. "I've wanted you since I first scented you; it's like nothing I've ever felt before."

Bashta blushed. He'd felt attraction for Cavel too but he hadn't wanted to. Too overwhelmed, scared of getting the contact he craved and then losing it again, he had fought it. He knew what mates were but he didn't know what it meant to be one. 

He spoke carefully, "What exactly are we supposed to do? I'm not sure I really understand."

"We are destined to be together. When mates meet we can feel it, there is this frission inside. I never understood it but the first time I came across your scent marker it was like something buzzed inside me. Then Saulle brought you into my tent and I knew. It's like I can sense you and you can sense me, two halves of a whole. We are linked mentally and physically already but we aren't bound yet. That's different. When we accept each other our clans will perform a ceremony to complete the mate bond. Only when that happens do we transform. I've overseen the bonding of many couples in my clan and they are all very happy."

Bashta's face fell. "I don't have a clan." His hands were clenched on the tree.

Cavel sighed. "I know. But I know you're my mate." He leaned forward and stroked Bashta's hand, relaxing his grip and twining their fingers together when he didn't pull away. "We'll work it out, somehow."

Bashta closed his eyes, the butterflies in his stomach made him feel excited and nervous at the same time. It was hard to breathe as he relished that small touch. Just the feel of that hand holding his firmly made him want more as he swayed closer to Cavel. More skin, more touching. He wasn't sure he was ready for it though. His eyes snapped open when he felt a small puff of air on his lips. 

A small whimper escaped him. "Shhh," Cavel whispered, "trust me. I would never hurt you." 

He moved slowly to close those few inches, staring into Bashta's wide eyes. As soon as their lips met Bashta's eyes fluttered shut. Soft, gentle brushes against his lips grew firmer until he felt Cavel's tongue licking at his closed mouth. He moaned, the opening giving Cavel the opportunity to smoothly stroke his probing tongue in and swirl it around Bashta's mouth.

Bashta gasped and pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you like it?"

Bashta looked down shyly. "I did," he said. Cavel leaned back in and brushed a tender kiss to his cheek. "I did too." Bashta turned his head and Cavel's lips slid over his mouth. This time Bashta's free hand came up and rested on Cavel's chest as the minutes passed while they kissed eagerly. Their tongues moved back and forth as they tasted each other, caressing and stroking until they were forced to stop to catch their breaths, panting quietly. 

Cavel put one hand on Bashta's where it rested on his chest. "Do you feel my heart? Can you feel how fast it's pounding?"

Bashta smile grew, he wasn't the only one affected. "I wasn't sure if you would feel the same way I do."

Cavel's smile was rueful. "That and more, I think. I've waited for you for so long. I don't think I could live without touching you. I don't know how I held out this long without holding you every second I could."

"I probably would've let you," admitted Bashta. "If I had known it would feel that good."

"I didn't dare, not after the way you almost gelded me when I touched you in the tent."

Bashta could feel the heat creep up his neck and was thankful for the dim light. "I think I was more upset about the fact that I liked it. Females bare their necks, not males. It felt both wrong and right." He shivered at the memory of the chills that had shot through him when Cavel's hot lips had burned against his vulnerable neck.

"Mates are not more or less, Bashta. You will bare your neck to me but mine will be equally vulnerable to you. I lead my clan but when we mate you will lead them as well. You will not be beneath me like you seem to think," Cavel said earnestly. He seemed anxious for Bashta to believe that they were equals, partners.




Two of a Kind Ch. 02



Again the memory of that moment in the tent flashed in Bashta's mind. He flushed again, sure that his face had to be glowing bright red, even in the dim light. Looking at their linked hands he whispered so quietly that Cavel had to lean close to hear. "I think I liked it."

Cavel looked confused, "Liked what?" "Being under you." Bashta closed his eyes, missing the hungry look that transformed Cavel's face. 

Before Bashta could take another breath Cavel moved in, kissing him hard, his tongue invading Bashta's mouth. Bashta moaned at the assault until Cavel jerked away with a gasp.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I just... You can't say things like that."

Bashta looked hurt. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to say something wrong."

Cavel lifted his chin with one hand, swiping his thumb over Bashta's swollen bottom lip, "Oh no, babe, you said something right. Too right. I couldn't stop myself. I don't want to push you too fast."

Bashta smiled under his touch. "Thank you." Cavel looked around; the midday heat was finally fading. "Let's get back to camp, okay? We still have to get to that Temple and rest this afternoon."

"Okay." Bashta stood up and lightly jumped to the next branch down. Alternating jumping and swinging his body gracefully, it took him only moments to make the last leap to the ground. Cavel followed much slower, methodically climbing, holding on to the tree at all times.

"Sure, make me look like an oaf, why don't you?" he grumbled when he dropped to the ground where Bashta waited. Instead of a sarcastic response Bashta just wrinkled his nose at him and shook his head in amusement.

"Well, lead the way. I'm sure you know a much faster way back than how I found you."

Bashta said nothing but held out his hand. He grinned happily when Cavel took it as they made their way back to the waiting men.

***

The sun was hovering just above the horizon when they stood outside the Temple. It was a dark stone cave; the triangular rock face above it was carved into the semblance of a giant black jaguar with stone pillars on either side. The entrance, flanked by dark stone walls that reached toward them, resembled nothing so much as a gaping hole waiting to suck them inside.

Cavel was incredibly nervous as he stood there in the evening light. Sweat dripped down his face as he waited, glancing between Bashta and the Temple. "Are we supposed to do anything? I was so concerned with getting here that I didn't even think about what I would have to do when we went into the Temple."

Bashta smiled at him. "Don't worry. I have offerings for you. They came to me in a dream so I know they will be lucky for your clan."

Cavel closed his eyes and sighed in relief. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you." 

Reaching out, he ran a gentle hand down Bashta's arm and twined their fingers together. "I even slept better than I ever have last night." He smiled at Bashta, remembering the way the younger man had held his hand and snuggled close after the heat of the day fell away and the cool of the evening had taken its place. They had stayed close together as Bashta led them through the secret trails toward the plateau. 

Bashta pointed. Cavel gasped as he turned back to look at the Temple.

The sun touched the horizon and the stone began to blaze as if it were on fire. The opening became a fiery pit and flames danced and shimmered above the carved face and pillars high above them. All of the men were frozen in awe, souls brushed by the otherworldly ancient Temple. Respect for the legends and traditions of the Jaguars made them quiet as they waited but now pure awe held them motionless as they waited for Cavel to find the means to save their families.

"We must go inside now, quickly, before the flare fades and the Temple is closed to us," Bashta warned Cavel. Feeling as if there was a stone in the pit of his stomach, Cavel stumbled behind him, hardly daring to take his eyes off the fiery face that loomed high above them, watching as they dared approach the most sacred Temple to all jaguar Carthera. Bashta pulled him along carefully but quickly as the sun continued to sink below the earth. They paused before the opening and Cavel looked back at his men who had come so far to protect him on his journey. Their clan's only hope was for him to go on. His face was serious as he squared his shoulders and then nodded at Bashta's questioning look.

He took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

Cavel cautiously followed Bashta into the fiery opening. He flinched as he walked into the wall of flame, expecting it to burn but all he felt was pleasant warmth flowing through his body. Their footsteps were dampened in the stone tunnel and Cavel was startled when he realized he could no longer hear any sound from outside the cave. He turned his head to look back and faced a sheet of silently flowing flames that blocked his view. Fear settled heavy in his stomach and he shuddered.

"We have to perform a cleansing ritual in the pools before we go before the Well of Souls. It will purify our bodies and our minds." Bashta smiled reassuringly at Cavel. "Don't worry, you'll like this part."

Cavel's mouth was dry and he couldn't speak, only nod. His clan was depending on him. 

Knowing his mate was there with him was a huge comfort as well. He took in Bashta's confident walk, his demeanor tempered with respect, but not fear. Cavel needed to trust his mate. He found his mind drifting to think about their relationship. His bond with Bashta might be incomplete but they had acknowledged it and made some strides to coming to terms with it. No matter what, Cavel would find a way to complete their bond. He was ready to end his loneliness.

He forced himself to focus, to move his eyes from Bashta. He took in the intricate carvings lining the walls depicting jaguars in the wild and Carthera, both changed and unchanged. There were also birds, and plants, figures that looked like men. Some of the men were doing things he didn't care to think about, shuddering and looking away from that section as they walked. In many images a huge black jaguar was depicted with rays radiating from his head. He frowned, unable to understand the story behind the pictures.

He thought about asking Bashta but they needed to find the Well of Souls. He wouldn't get distracted.

He could feel the warmth increasing even as the light from the opening faded. Silent, they walked downward until the floor under them leveled out. When the air changed, moving over his skin Cavel stopped and spread his arms out; he sensed they were in a large chamber. His nose wrinkling in concentration, Cavel smelled water. Bashta was still there, though no longer in arms-reach.

"Bashta?" Cavel whispered.

"I'm here, just getting a fire started." Small flames began to build, revealing Bashta crouched down feeding small twigs into the growing fire. Soon there was a small blaze dancing on larger branches and he stood up. His face grew solemn as he reached down and unwound his breechclout. "We need to bathe in the sacred pools and purify our bodies before we approach the Well." Cavel's breath faltered. He had to focus on the cure. He closed his eyes, repeating that to himself until he could get his feelings under control. He began stripping with his eyes closed, unbuttoning his shirt first and slipping it off. He opened his eyes to find that Bashta had turned away and was moving in the shadows near one wall. Cavel quickly looked away, gazing at the ceiling of the cave, the murky darkness pushed back only a little by the fire's light.

Dropping his shirt, Cavel unbuttoned his pants, shoving them and his underwear down at the same time. He flushed when he realized he forgot to take off his boots first. The awkwardness of balancing on one foot to get them off took his mind off what he was actually doing until he turned to face Bashta by the fire again.

Despite the gravity of the moment they took the time to appreciate their first glimpse of each other naked. Cavel had seen most of Bashta's body, but the sight of him fully unclothed held Cavel transfixed. Bashta was running his eyes up and down Cavel's body and a sudden tightening in his groin betrayed his own reaction. Cavel quickly turned away to face the dark pool on their right, biting his lip to hold back his moan of want.

"Uhh... let's get in the water," Bashta stammered. 

He was eager to step into the warm water. The heat and the darkness would hide a multitude of embarrassing reactions he couldn't stop from happening. Cavel cleared his throat and nodded but didn't say anything, following Bashta. They stepped into the pool carefully, planting their feet on the slippery rock. 

The heated water made them both groan and the swirling water felt good but Cavel could not seem to relax. They sat on a rocky ledge for a short time, soaking up to their shoulders. After a short time Bashta stood up and then turned to pick up a round wood bowl from the side of the pool. He dipped it into the water and filled it, pouring the steaming water over his head four times and then handed it to Cavel. 

Leaning back, the warm water streamed over his head and washed away sand, sweat, and dirt when he copied Bashta's actions. Bashta poured a handful of crushed flowers in the bowl after Cavel was done and then dipped water inside, swirling it as he chanted in a language Cavel didn't recognize.

"Close your eyes," Bashta whispered.

Cavel closed his eyes and then sank down into the water at pressure from one of Bashta's hands on his shoulder. He shuddered from being on his knees in front of his mate despite the warmth as Bashta poured the strong smelling astringent fluid over his head. Setting the bowl aside he stood behind Cavel, still chanting. Once again he pushed down on his shoulders again until Cavel went completely under the water. He stayed there for a moment then came out at urging from Bashta's hands. He wiped at the water streaming down his face until he could open his eyes safely.

"Almost done," Bashta assured him. He filled the bowl again and began his chant as he swirled the small orange flower pieces around and around. Offering the bowl, Bashta continued his chant as Cavel poured the sharp smelling liquid over his head. He grimaced as some went into his mouth but quickly ducked under the water. His head was tilted back as he came out of the water and water streamed down his shoulder length hair and back. Bashta ran his hands over it, pushing more of the water off making Cavel bit his lip and look away again.

"We can get out now."

Once out of the pool, Bashta picked up the bowl and walked over to the dark corner of the room. Cavel took a few moments to try and get his erection to go down. The warm air was rapidly drying their bodies by the Bashta returned with an unlit wood torch in one hand. Cavel was eyeing his sweaty clothes with distaste. 

"We can't wear those anyway. We must go unclothed from here," Bashta told him. He dug through the small woven bag he'd brought with him and pulled out a small leaf packet folded up and a gourd.

"What are those?" Cavel asked.

"The offferings." Bashta handed them to Cavel and then lit the torch in the small fire. He led them from the chamber with the pools through a tunnel opposite the one they entered through. It grew warmer as they went deeper into the headland. "This is the way to the actual Temple."

"Okay," Cavel said quietly, his throat too tight to say more. His stomach churned. 

Either he would find a cure in the Temple somehow or the time it had taken for his men to come with him, to protect him on their journey, would be stolen from the precious last moments his clan might have together. 

The thought of that was almost more than Cavel could handle so he focused on his surroundings. The only problem with that was becoming too aware of Bashta's lean naked form leading the way as the muscles from his calves to his ass tensed and relaxed with each step he took. The flickering of the torch only served to make his compact muscles more defined.

Cavel was beginning to become uncomfortably aroused when the tunnel began to rise up into the carved peak. The light began to shimmer as it reflected off walls covered in black shiny obsidian and carved in even more intricate scenes than the tunnel by the entrance. Cavel was fascinated, stopping for a moment to reverently touch a female protecting a set of cubs. The lines of the small creatures seemed oddly vulnerable and he had the oddest urge to cover them with his hands and protect them from an unseen menace. It left a sense of urgency and renewed determination to save the kitlings of his clan.

Noticing that Bashta didn't see him stop, he hurried to catch up before the light faded but he slowed when he realized the light wasn't coming from the torch. Looking up the tunnel he saw the flickering orange light that flared in another opening. Sweat broke out across his body. He could sense something beyond that way, a vast power. 

He straightened his shoulders. No matter what happened, he was prepared to be the alpha his clan needed.

Bashta plunged into the flames and stood in a small chamber high in the plateau. The torch went into a holder beside the door. Two ovals of flickering flame, the eyes of the great cat carved into the outside, were directly behind the altar. He took two steps into the room and waited for Cavel who shuddered when he entered the chamber. The power inside the room was immense and made all the hair on Cavel's body stand up.

Nodding, Bashta indicated the offerings Cavel still clutched. "We'll do it together," he assured him.

At the far side of the room there was an altar held up on either side by two pillars carved into jaguars bowing, backs arched with their heads low to the ground. The flat obsidian top was polished to a mirror shine and the staring eyes of the great carving were reflected in its surface. Taking the leaf bundle Bashta unwound the bit of vine holding it together and laid it in the center of one of those glowing eyes. 

Inside the packet were two carved black rings, shaped painstakingly by Bashta on their journey. They were plain bands but each one was a perfect circle, polished to a black luster that caught the light of those glowing eyes and reflected it back again. 

Cavel gently placed the gourd down in the other eye and tugged carefully to pull out the stopper. Inside was the highly prized oil from the tucuma fruit, strong and fragrant. Bowing, both men stepped back several steps from the front of the altar.

Panicking, Cavel began to lean toward Bashta, opening his mouth to ask where the Well of Souls was. Bashta shook his head, not speaking. Cavel began to shake, fearing that he had come to the wrong place when nothing happened. Reaching over, Bashta squeezed his hand, locking their fingers together. Bashta knelt, tugging Cavel down with him. Letting go, he bowed and then closed his eyes. His strong voice broke the silence for the first time as he began chanting, his voice rising and falling in ritual entreaty.

Cavel didn't have the words but he closed his eyes and began pleading in his mind, begging for help to save the jaguar spirit's chosen people. He felt his body become heavier, as if the weight of his fear pressed him down. He refused to think that way, of the pain and anger he felt over his sick clan. He would show the spirits what he wanted to save, not what his fears.

Instead he thought of the love he had for each of the kitlings he protected. Their smiling faces, unconscious grace, and pure souls that deserved to live. They made the world a better place just by being within it. He thought of the love their parents showed through their sacrifices, his men coming with him to protect his journey with their own lives if necessary. All that so their children would have a chance to live.

With their eyes still closed, both men reached for each other's hands at the same moment. The bond they had found on their journey through the jungle flowed through them. The sense of completeness, the relief from the aching loneliness that threatened to tear them apart when they stood alone, was now assuaged just by being near the other. With it came the fierce desire brought a fine trembling they both felt racing through their limbs as they grew closer. 

Bonded or not, Cavel swore that he would be the best mate Bashta ever had. He would give him, not the family he lost, but a new family to enfold him in layers of care and affection. 

He just needed help.



Two of a Kind Ch. 02



Wendy put her hand into my hair and pulled my head up to look at her, "It appears that my boots are soiled, Dildo Whore. You better go get something to clean them up quickly or I'll have you use your tongue."

I got up and quickly ran into the bathroom to get a towel. I returned to the living room and knelt by my mistress. Her foot was tapping and Mark was still kneeling next to her, cock in hand. I used the towel on each of her boots in turn, wiping up the white cum that was sprayed onto them. I was shocked at how much fluid there was, but I guess I shouldn't have been surprised as she had kept us on edge for so long.

When I was done, I tossed the towel to the side and knelt next to Mark, figuring that was what Wendy would want. 

"That was slow, Dildo Whore. Next time be quicker about it or you'll taste it instead. Nice try lining up next to Servant, but you aren't going to be so lucky. Go get the pony bench, and bring it in here."

I went into the bedroom and brought out the pony bench. It was a contraption I created to Wendy's specifications made from PVC pipe. There were two horizontal sections about 4 feet apart and parallel which were connected by a center section. It looked like a giant capital I on the ground. On one end was a vertical "T" bar about 2 feet from the ground, and on the other end was a vertical bar which had a round PVC section.

"Put it next to the chair and mount it."

After placing it where she indicated, I bent over the vertical "T" bar, putting it against my hips. On all fours, this placed my wrists and ankles right at the spot where the ends of the horizontal poles were. My mistress came over to me, and opened up the circle which I put my head into, then she locked it around my neck. My wrists and ankles were then encircled with leather straps and tied to the four corners of the "I", forcing me into a pony position on all fours, ass up.

Wendy spanked my ass with a loud *smack* and said to Mark, "How does he look Servant? Aren't you glad you were able to win my challenge?"

Mark answered, "Yes my Domina, I am very happy. He looks very vulnerable and helpless."

"You're right. Now that I think about it, I probably should have had him put wheels on the pony bench. Then we could have wheeled him outside to the parking lot for all to view. Oh well, an improvement for next time." Wendy then came over to me and ran her fingernails lightly down my spine causing me to attempt to twitch. 

"Servant, my drink needs refilling. Fetch me a refill as I ponder DW's fate".

"Yes Mistress, right away."

Wendy sat down in the chair and put her feet on my backside. I could feel the heels of her boats dig into my ass cheeks as she awaited her drink. When Mark returned she said, "Servant, you are to rub my shoulders as I have my drink. It's tough work keeping you two in check, you have no idea." She was quiet for a minute as Mark rubbed her shoulders and neck. She kept digging her heels into my ass and questioned, "Just what to do, what to do? Decisions, decision... If it wasn't so late I'd order pizza and have the delivery boy just come in to find you as my table. That would be sweet. I guess I'll have to come up with another way for my slave boy here to pay his penalty."

She stood up and picked up two clothespins. She leaned down and fastened them to my nipples making me wince in pain. "Oh, servant, help your mistress out and go fetch the large black dildo for me please," Wendy asked in a sinister voice while digging her nails into my back.

Mark quickly answered, "Yes, Domina, at once." 

I heard his footsteps recede and I felt Wendy's breath on my neck. She bit it and whispered in my ear, "Oh Dildo Whore. I think it's time for you to earn your name. What do you think? Oh wait, it doesn't really matter what you think, since you lost the contest, are now helpless and I get to do what I want."

Mark returned with the sinister toy in his outstretched hands. It was twelve inches long, very thick, and black. It was double-headed and flexible. Wendy brought it around to my head and stuck it in my face. Smacking me with it across my face while saying, "Here it is my pet. Just think, in moments this will be shoved into your asshole, fucking you like the dildo whore that you are. Since I'm a generous mistress, I'll allow you to lubricate it if you like. Open up!"

She then forced that monster dildo past my lips into my mouth. I tried to pull back, but strapped to the pony bench, I had to feel that piece of plastic invade my throat. I tried to get it wet as she moved it back and forth, fucking my mouth. Gasping for breath and almost gagging, she kept ramming it in and out of my mouth. Finally, tears in my eyes, she removed it and went around my bound body. I felt her spread my ass cheeks and put the head of her black dildo against my asshole. 

I tried to move, but was secured too well, I felt that monster press against my tight hole. It wouldn't go at first, but then Wendy gave a grunt and shoved it into my inner recesses. I yelped in shock as I was fucked by her toy. I didn't think I could take any more, but she kept pressing it in, further and further. When I was sure I was about to taste it, she stood up, and surveyed her work, saying, "Oh my yes, that's just the way my dildo whore should be; bent over and fucked with a big dildo hanging of his gaping asshole."

Then her voice turned nasty and she said, "But again I don't have the matched set anymore. Jeez, what is a girl to do? Servant, get on all fours. Then back up with your ass facing Dildo Whore's."

"But Domina, I thought I won the challenge?" Mark asked.

"Are you questioning your Domina? Bad idea servant. Don't worry, your reward is in store for you, but right now I'm having my fun. And you are ruining my matched set, so if you don't want to feel my wrath, you will comply, now!"

I couldn't see what was occurring, but I felt Mark get on all fours behind me. Wendy instructed him to back up a few times and I felt pressure on the dildo in my ass. Mark let out some grunts and groans. Then I saw my mistress move over to the side of us, put her hand on her chin and smiled. "Oh that's perfect. Now both my subs are on all fours, with the dildo connecting them by their asses. Since my dildo whore can't move, Servant, you are to push back and forth and fuck each other while I go enjoy my drink."

I felt Mark move back, forcing the dildo further into me. I grunted and was forced hard against the pony bench. Then he leaned forward, slowly pulling the rubber cock out a little. I couldn't see what it looked like, but I could feel myself getting fucked up the ass every time he moved. I heard Wendy laugh and turning my head saw her sitting back in the easy chair, surveying us with a critical eye. 

"Oh my gods, this is so perfect! Subs, you are in the perfect position, on all fours and fucking each other for my enjoyment. Servant, pick up the pace a little, you're being too nice to Dildo Whore. He can take it harder, trust me."

I felt Mark quicken his movements, and my ass got violated harder. He was grunting in time with my own moans of pleasure/pain. My arms were getting sore from being forced in the position they were in, unable to shift position. After several minutes of this, I saw my mistress get up and get her strap-on harness. She stepped into it after removing her dress. It was an awesome sight, her perfect nude body shining in the light, an eight inch hard rubber dildo sticking out of the center of her waist. 

"That's good Servant, you've pleased me and you can stop now. You've prepared him nicely and now it's time for me to take over fucking my Dildo Whore. Pull out and stand up next to me so you can watch me fuck him." 

I felt Mark stand up and the big black double-headed dildo came out of my asshole. He stood next to Wendy, looking all sweaty and worn out. She pulled his hands behind his back and fastened them in place with a pair of metal handcuffs. A ball gag appeared in her hands and she made him open his mouth. Fastening it tightly around his head, his mouth was forced into a grimace with a red ball keeping him silent. "We can't have you making noises and ruining Dildo Whore's fun, now can we?" she asked. Mark grunted and shook his head no.

Not finished, she then took a blindfold and coming over to me put it over my head, blocking off my sight. "Now now, Sub. No peaking. I want you to be able to focus on how I'm going to dominate your helpless body as you pay your penalty for losing the competition. It's time for you to get my toy wet again, open up that mouth."

The blindfold was taking away my sight, but as instructed I lifted my head as far as it would go and opened my already sore mouth. I'm sure my ass was already wide open, but didn't want to let my mistress down by not getting her dildo lubricated. I felt her move in front of me and pull my head up by my hair. Then I felt her push her dildo into my mouth again. This time it was much smaller and I was able to wrap my lips around it easier. I felt her hips move slightly and the dildo slid deeper in my mouth. It was horrible being forced to suck her off like that, helpless to move. I was sure Mark was glad he had won the contest.

Just then I got a shock as I felt someone's hands on my hips and something pushed into my already violated ass. I grunted and shook, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I heard Wendy laugh and she ripped the blindfold from my eyes. All I could see was Mark pressed up against my face!

"Surprise, Dildo Whore!" I heard from behind me. "Since he won the contest I figured I'd reward Servant with a blowjob. However, I wasn't about to do it, so I guess that just leaves you!"

I was trapped in the pony bench, in the middle of Mark and Wendy. She had her strap on buried in my sore ass while Mark, handcuffed, had his dick into my mouth. I had been turned into nothing more than a whore for their enjoyment, a fuck toy for their pleasure. I know Mark hadn't planned on this, but he seemed to have gotten over any reticence as he began to thrust faster into my mouth.

"That's it servant, he can take it. If you want your reward, and not take DW's place, then you are to fill his mouth with your spew. I want to see him humiliated, forced to eat cum for the first time."

She kept up the pace, splitting my hole with her strap-on while spanking my ass. Whenever she thrust into me, I was pushed forward, taking Mark's swollen cock further into my mouth. All I could do was gag on his meat, my saliva pouring across it. I heard him start to moan, and his hips began to buck wildly. I was feeling his dick begin to grow in size, stretching my mouth.

"Yes, now, feed him that dirty cock!" Wendy yelled with abandon. Mark shuddered and made one wild inarticulate yell against the ball gag. "That it, take it Dildo Whore... get us off! Fuck this is hot, why didn't I ever think of this before? Oh yes, I'm about to cum, jam your meat into him my Servant!"

The both bucked and jammed their respective cocks into me hard. With a yell, my mistress grabbed my hips and forced her strap-on deep into my sore hole. I felt Mark shudder and then it happened. I felt his hard cock pulse and then felt it spew into the back of my throat. I didn't want to take it, but it sprayed deep into my mouth, his sperm leaking out around his cock and down my chin. He groaned and slumped back, finally freeing my mouth as I gasped, trying not to think of what just happened.

Wendy sauntered to the chair, slumped down and put her feet hard onto my back with a thump. "Oh my pets, you have done well this evening and made me proud. That was a great release I just had. I may just leave you tied up like that until the morning when we can start a new competition."

Mark groaned against the ballgag as I just slumped; locked in the pony bench, cum slowly dripping off my chin.



Two of a Kind Ch. 02



The air left my body like someone had poleaxed me. In one huge breath, my lungs emptied as I stared at Marcy. Her words bounced off of the walls of my fertile imagination in a very fast paced Wimbledon tennis game. Match, set, point. 

How closely this woman's thoughts and words mirrored my own once again astounded me. Of course, her wish was a far site different than being prepared to forego male companionship...cock...in favor of a lesbian love. But if over the space of the past few weeks, I could get there, maybe Marcy could too? I did know that this was a unique opportunity to bring the idea up, one that I might not get again, one I could not afford to pass up.

I was thankful though that it was dark, that only the golden glow of the camp fire and the stars lit this hot summer night. I was certain that I was blushing. I knew I would stammer to get the words out. But I knew I had to take the chance. Life is not always fair. And fate does not usually give you second chances. So you had damned well better make the most of the first ones that you get. Even when you have no idea what the fuck you are doing or saying.

I giggled softly, "Yeah, something along those lines has been in my head for a couple of weeks actually."

She turned towards me then...and the world tilted on its axis. I lie not, it was as ridiculous as all those crappy, sappy romance novels I had read. The cheesiest one of my life. But damn was she beautiful. Her soft brown eyes were huge as the yellow and red flames danced in them. "Really?" she whispered as she clutched her chest like a little girl holding tightly to her special doll. "You too?" I heard the pleading for understanding in her voice. 

I tried very hard not to read too much into things, not to let my imagination get too far ahead of me. But hope is a funny thing. Sort of like that campfire. It can look dead, cold, nothing but gray ash. But the least little breeze and coals buried deep beneath will rage to life, glowing red and providing heat that you thought long since dead. And once those flames are reignited it is a hard thing to push down. It was that kind of hope I was feeling in that moment. Like the birth of a new baby, a dream.

I foraged through my thoughts, my memories, everything I had learned about this amazing, beautiful, sexy, young woman. I tired to think of the right words. Words that would not instantly frighten her away. 

"You know neither of us have to be men for us to love one another," I whispered like a prayer into the calm, cool, silent night air. And I held my breath.

She shook her head and chuckled, "It would sure help."

I could have taken those words at face value. I could have allowed them to be a bucket of water thrown upon the newly ignited fires of hope. I could have allowed them to extinguish it. Forever. Most people would have, right?

But not me, I could not. I had been alone too long. I had seen too much, fought too many fucking battles in this life. I was not going to give up that easily. "Close your eyes and just relax, Marcy," I entreated.

"Relax? Do you even remember what that is?" she asked as more tears cascaded down that beautiful face. My heart broke for her pain, our shared pain. 

I knew in that moment that this was right. We were right. And the whole fucking world be damned, I would find a way somehow to show her that too. "Try," I said as I moved to sit behind her. I put my hands on her shoulders and began to massage the tight muscles beneath my fingers. 

Just touching her, even in this non-sexual way felt so right, so damned right. How could religious bigots think this was sin? Sin was a man that failed to see this woman's strength, dignity and beauty. Sin was a society that condemned her for being a single mother, that without even asking made assumptions about her. Sin was her facing all of those prejudices, stresses and life alone. 

She needed me...and I needed her. What's more, my logical brain argued, our children needed us and each other. We truly were one of those blended families were together we are stronger than the one. I just had to convince this woman that a penis was not necessary to make that dream come true. 

I put my heart into working the tensions from that tired and achy muscles. I took my time. There truly was no rush. I found each knot and worked it beneath my fingers until I felt it loosen and disappear. Only then did I move onto the next one. One by one I took on those knots. I met their challenge and conquered them as I stared into the dying flames of that campfire. Of hope.

"Hmmm, that feels amazing," she whispered as she leaned back against me, leaned into my touch. 

I have played that moment over and over again like the climax of some bad science fiction movie. That one moment in a time travel story upon which the fate of the whole fucking world rests. If I had been a lesser woman, a more insecure one, or even a younger me, I could have stopped. just let the opportunity slip me by. Rationalized that I did not want to push her too hard, scare her off. Promised myself there would be another chance. 

But I was not and I did not. I recognized that moment for what it was...a once in a lifetime chance. And as the saying goes...'I boldly went where no man had gone before.'

I leaned forward, tilting my head just enough that we were face to face. Her eyes were closed. Her chest rose and fell in slow even breaths. She might have even been drifting into sleep. But our bodies had been asleep long enough. 

I brushed my lips across hers then. Lightly. Almost like the whisper of butterfly wings. One thing that I have always known from that first fumbling girl-on-girl experience in college is that kissing another woman is totally different from kissing a man. For one thing, they are so fucking soft. And sweet. 

They elicit in you this need to cherish, to savor, to taste, to enjoy. Kissing another woman is an end unto itself, not just a prelude to the main event to be gotten through as quickly as possible. It is like the half time show at the Super Bowl...a show unto itself. 

My hands began to run slowly up and down her arms as if warming her where even the fire could not. In the end, I had to lace my fingers through hers to keep from grapping for her breast. I did not want to be like him. Like other men. I wanted to show her that this could work. We could work. And I just knew that the first step...and the only one that night...was a kiss.

But not just any kiss. I poured my all into that kiss. And it did not end with butterfly whispers either. But I took my time getting there. I tasted her surprised gasp of shock for a long moment. That sweet exhalation of surprise. Then I charged the fortress. My tongue swept into her mouth. Like some fucking knight in shining armor I charged across her lowered drawer bridge and I demanded her surrender. I tasted her fears and shock. I felt the tiny tremble that began at her lips and consumed her whole body. 

Then as was our life then...and is still, "Mommy, I want some water." Crystal choose that exact moment to stop being the quiet one. I smiled...at fate. But somehow it felt right. As right as we were. I brushed a finger down her face, capturing some of the remaining moisture from her earlier tears, "My turn now," we laughed as I got up to get my daughter her water and settle her back in bed before she woke the others up...oh, please not that. 

By the time I had accomplished what should have been an easy task but never ever is with an autistic child, Marcy had retreated to the safety of her sleeping bag. She had positioned it so that she was facing away from me. She was breathing softly, perhaps too softly, trying to vane sleep, maybe. But this night I let her. I figured I had shocked her, given her enough to think about on a cool, crisp starlight summer's night. 

The next couple of days were busy for all of us. We hiked, although Crystal's whining that her legs were tired after only twenty minutes of walking meant that she and I stayed behind with baby Sadie while Marcy took Mandy and Josh the rest of the way up the mountain. We swam. The dirty pond water sent Josh practically into paranoia...algae, bacteria, fish, sharks. Yes, fresh water sharks in the mountain. Never let an autistic child watch the sci-fi or horror channels. Reality is scary enough for them, forget science fiction. 

We laughed and yes, we loved. Not like that you dirty fuckers. We cared for one another. In fact, there was never another moment like that one by the camp fire. I think Marcy made certain of that. Carefully avoiding being alone with me again during the whole trip. In fact, it was not until the last day, as we packed my SUV after what for us was a successful trip that anything else was even mentioned.

Marcy and I were dropping the tent. Now I am sure that we could have played the whole damsels in distress card and gotten one of the men around there to help out. But one thing about being the single parent of a special needs child, it makes your fiercely independent. You do not want to have to ask anything from anyone.

The kids were running and playing nearby, enjoying their final moments of freedom before facing the long car ride back to the city. Marcy was working the tie downs and wires from the outside and I was working the poles from the inside. We got it wrong. I ended up wearing the tent. 

I fought my way through the darkness. Did I mention I am a bit claustrophobic? I swung my arms wildly, feeling as if I could not breathe. It probably was only seconds, maybe a minute before I emerged into the bright midday sun, but it felt like hours, days, forever. 

The first thing I saw was Marcy surrounded by four adorable children...all laughing their asses off, some of them even doubled over and in tears they were laughing so hard. What's a girl to do? I opened my arms wide and let out a giant roar and started chasing them around the camp ground. 

When I caught Marcy, we ended up a laughing, giggling heap of arms and legs on the ground near that completely dead camp fire. It was a tickle contest with eight smaller hands joining and retreating at times. By the time it was over, we were all breathless and tired. 

Marcy got up first then she held out her hand and helped my old lady ass up from the cold, hard ground. As she pulled me up, our bodies brushed against one another. She stared at the ground as I froze for a moment. Then she looked up at me with those deer caught in the headlights eyes and whispered, "Are you lesbian?" An immediate denial sprang to my lips but I never got the chance to utter it as suddenly we had four little ones to cope with once more. 

I kept looking for a chance to talk to her about it all the way home. The drive back was a bit better. The kids were all exhausted plus Josh and Crystal knew they were returning to the known commodity of their homes...so they were way less anxious. Unfortunately, the children seemed determined to sleep in shifts and not once in the four hour drive home (I said better...our lives will never be easy or normal) did I have a moment alone with Marcy to answer to her question.

We dropped them off first of course. Josh hopped from the car and raced inside. Days without the computer and video games that were his refuge and safety net, his primary means of self-soothing. Of course, he was way too busy to help unpack the car. And if Josh was not helping then it was not fair as Crystal pointed out for her and Mandy to have to either. But Marcy did manage to convince the girls to let baby Sadie play with them while the 'big people' handled the hard stuff.

I was finally alone with Marcy...as alone as we get anyway. I was nervous as we both huddled into the back of my SUV, grabbing whatever we could and sorting it as we went. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed that Marcy tried to alternate it, avoiding me even. But this final load, we ended up both half immersed in tents, back packs and sleeping bags. It was my chance to explain. Some part of me feared that it might be the only one I got.

"Hey, Marcy, listen. I'm sorry if what I said made you nervous. And honestly, no, no I am not a lesbian. It is just that..." How could I explain? How could I maker her see that we were already in a relationship? Just a sexless one. 

In the end, I gave up. "Forget it please. Just please, pretty please, don't let this effect the kids. They need each other. It would kill Crystal to loose Mandy. Well, Josh, Sadie and you too. But especially Mandy."

I knew I was blabbering along, not making any sense. But I could not stop myself. It seemed that too late I realized how foolishly I had jumped into things. Without any thought for how it might affect my daughter, our children. And that was an unpardonable sin that I almost never committed. But I had this time...for a woman. Maybe her rejection was my just desserts for doing something so foolish, I thought.

She looked up at me then. Her eyes wide as she shook her head in denial, "Of course not. I could never do that to the kids. You don't really think I would, did you?"

I shook my head and looked sheepishly at the ground, "I guess not. Sorry, I just was being foolish." Foolish for dreaming that even for a moment there could be something more maybe. Foolish for thinking that this beautiful young woman could...would...ever want me. 

I shook myself. I am not one for self-pity. Oh, we all get down from time to time, especially when you have the pressure of raising a very special little person in this fucked up world where money and power mean more than people, especially little people and most especially those who are different. But I never allow myself to stay down for long. 

I knew that when I got home and gave Crystal the iPad and laptop she had been begging for days for, that I would grab a glass of wine and turn on my 'sad' playlist. I would probably even cry...for what might have been. But tomorrow I would shake it off and get back to my job. The hand that life had dealt me. Raising the most amazing little person I know to be a strong woman...giving her the chance to have a life, a real one, a great one even. And that was a full-time job plus some.

And this woman understood that...times three. I was just glad that I had not screwed things up so badly that there was no going back. Relieved...and sad that this was it. All there ever would be. But hey on this winding, bumpy, pot-hole ridden road we call life, friends are always good. Sometimes all you have. 

I smiled, "Thanks, Marcy." Just a couple of days ago I would have hugged her. But I figured now was not the best time to push those limits. I thought about holding out my hand in a sign of truce. But that seemed so artificial somehow. So I just went back to rummaging for any stray bags we might have missed.

We did that for a moment or two. Then I heard aa whisper. Marcy spoke so low that I could not even make it out, "What did you say?"

She was carefully studying the ground at her feet. Her pretty face was the cutest shade of pink like Crystal's got when she knew she had done something she was not supposed to. Marcy shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Have you?"

I was confused, "Have I what?"

That pink turned a brighter shade, almost red. "You know...been with a woman?"

I bit my lip. I really was not certain what to say. I did not want to frighten her. Scare her off even more. But on the other hand, honesty was the basis of friendship. I nodded, "Yeah, a couple of times."

"What...what was it like?" she stammered.

I shrugged, trying to be as casual as I could be. "Mostly it was my ex's idea...wanting to swing with other couples. So it is hard for me to say when it is more about doing something for someone else...being coerced. But in college a friend and I got drunk once." I stopped, maybe I had said too much already, I worried.

But she pressed onwards, "What happened? What was that like?"

It had been a lifetime ago. This young woman was barely out of diapers back then. I screwed up my face as I thought back to that experience and tried to answer her as honestly as I could. "It was nice...that night. She was soft. It was really different from being with a guy." I was uncertain still how much to say, so I figured in this case, less was better. 

"What happened after that?"

I frowned as I faced the truth for the first time, "We drifted apart. Things were never the same."

She nodded and let it drop. We took the last of the stuff into her house. And went back to 'normal.' Or tried to anyway. But I was worried that over the next couple of weeks, things were just stiffer between us anyway. The children went on as usual. It is amazing how they can do that. But Marcy and I were more reserved...unnatural even. 

So when one day about two weeks later we were having coffee, it hit me out of the blue when she said, "I have a favor to ask. Could you stay over Friday night and watch the kids? I have a date." 

To be continued...



Two of a Kind Ch. 03



"Rarely have I heard or felt such purity and devotion." A large rumbling voice filled the temple chamber. 

Both men's eyes snapped open and they gasped in awe. Cavel's hand tightened on Bashta's fingers, his knuckles turning white. An enormous black jaguar sat in front of the altar, watching them as his tail flicked back and forth. His yellow eyes reflected the orange flames as he looked down on them. Sitting down he was taller than either of them would be standing. It was a truly intimidating sight.

"Do you mean that?" he asked.

"Pardon me." Bashta bowed. "Do you speak to me, Great One?"

The large jaguar's mouth parted, his teeth gleaming in the fire light in an odd parody of a smile. "No, dear heart."

Cavel gulped, that meant the jaguar was addressing him. "I am unsure of what you mean, Great One. If you mean my thoughts of moments ago, yes. More than anything. I want the suffering to end. My people and," he glanced at Bashta, "my mate, deserve to live in health and joy. I would give anything I possess, anything but my soul, to give them that peace."

The great jaguar narrowed his eyes. "You would place limits on what you would offer when you beg a boon for your people?"

"I do not hold back anything that is my own, Great One but my soul is not mine to give," Cavel said softly. He looked down to where Bashta held his hand, their fingers white from the tight grip and then looked up to stare in the jaguar's shining yellow eyes. "That part of me has always belonged to Bashta, even before I knew him, and it always will. The piece of his soul I carry is held in trust only. I cannot betray my mate, not even to save my people who are your people, Great One."

"I would never ask that Cavel face the pain I have felt since my clan died," Bashta objected. "That he would do that, risk his clan for me is... too much." Bashta looked away from the Jaguar and his tears slowly fell from his eyes as he looked at Cavel's soft expression. "He... I have come to care greatly for him these past days. I think I love him." He looked back up at the Jaguar. "I would do whatever required of me to spare him pain."

A curious sound rumbled through the room, emanating from the cat's chest. He rose up, easily towering over the kneeling men. He paced in a circle while they held their breath. "You would give anything. Any price I asked? Both of you?"

Bashta and Cavel looked at each other, an unspoken communication passing between them.

"Yes," Cavel answered simply for both of them.

The Jaguar moved to stand before him, just inches from Cavel's face. Cavel instantly fell into his bright eyes, passing through a great ring of flames just like the ones behind the altar. He felt a presence in his mind, a voice that whispered and spoke to him with the combined forces of all his ancestors. He was suspended in a moment of time, immersed in the essence of his people's origins, lines that led back into history to this one creature. 

His defenses stripped back, Cavel was flooded with knowledge and power and a sense of duty made all the stronger by his renewed connection to his clan's ancestors. 

He gasped when he was released, weaving on his knees until he could catch his balance against his mate. Bashta held him upright until Cavel blinked a few times and then managed a short bow to the Jaguar.

"You are worthy to be a Protector of our kind. Bashta was chosen as a kitling, brought before me and pledged to be mine. His family has had a Protector in their line as far back as his clan stretched. It is a solemn duty."

Bashta was unable to choke back his sob at the reminder of the solemn ceremony. Held in his father's arms as a small kitling the experience and connection he had felt to his people had been the brightest thing in his soul. When they died, it had felt like that had disappeared. The reminder of that made his chest ache in misery. 

Cavel instantly looked away from the Jaguar and wrapped his arms around Bashta to comfort him. The Jaguar purred; a deep rumble that helped soothe and calm them.

"Is this mating something you want as well, dear one?" the jaguar asked Bashta when he lifted his head from Cavel's shoulder.

"Yes." Bashta's voice was firm but soft. Cavel leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly, the tip of his tongue licking the last tear from Bashta's soft skin. Cavel sat back and they both turned toward the Jaguar, their hands once again linked. 

"Good. You will have need of that certainty. What I ask will be difficult for you. You will need support to endure the coming hardships." Bashta blanched a little but Cavel tightened his grip. The Jaguar stood up, towering over them. 

"The words of the spirits are often hard to understand. You listened when they spoke through the wise woman and made your way here, into the jungle, though you had nothing but faith to guide you, Cavel, newly made Protector. You have done well as a leader of your clan and deserve your reward for your faithfulness."

"I have had my reward. This is where I met and fell in love with my mate," Cavel smiled, "as badly as I bungled it in the beginning."

The Jaguar huffed, amusement in his voice. "Truly. What you do not know is at the same time you also found your cure."

Cavel looked confused. "I did? I don't understand, what cure?" The Jaguar looked at Bashta which only made Cavel more confused. "Pardon me, Great One, I still don't understand."

"As the only survivor of his clan Bashta is also the only survivor of this plague that has so decimated our kind."

Understanding dawned on Cavel's face. "He had the plague? But... how did he survive?" He turned to Bashta. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Bashta looked confused. "Tell you what? I didn't know I was sick. I certainly never experienced the sickness of my clan. I was here in the Temple as they died. I had an infection in a wound and my mother brought me to the pools for healing."

Understanding dawned over Cavel and he sat back on his heels, nodding. "Of course, don't you see? The plague attacks the brain and causes headaches long before it attacks the body further and causes the more obvious symptoms. You must have had the headache but just didn't realize it with the fever from your infection. When you came to be healed the ritual must have done more than just cure the infection, it cured the plague."

"Then how am I your cure? We don't have time to get your whole clan here and heal them all, do we?"

"No, that wouldn't work, you're right. But we don't have to bring them here for the cure; we can take the cure to them. It's in you, your blood!" Cavel said in excitement. "The doctor can create an antiserum with your blood and give it to my clan. It would attack the toxins created by the bacteria that is making them sick." Bashta's forehead was wrinkled.

Cavel simplified. "We would make a medicine from your blood and because you had the plague but were healed, they would be healed too. Your blood holds the cure inside it."

Bashta's face smoothed out and he smiled, his expression full of joy. "You can do that? Really?"

Cavel was almost dancing though he was still on his knees. "Oh yes!" His excitement faltered. "But... You'll have to leave the jungle, your home."

"I could come back."

"That you could," said the Jaguar. Their heads turned quickly. Cavel swallowed, he'd been so excited he'd completely forgotten about the enormous jaguar sitting just feet away from them.

Bashta blushed. "Our apologies, Great One. In our excitement we did not mean to ignore you."

"I am not slighted, dear one. But there is more you must know," he said kindly. "In order for your blood to work on his clan, you must be his clan. You must be bonded."

"But I have no clan left alive to perform the ceremony. How can I mate if I have no one to sing for me?" Bashta's face fell and tears filled his eyes.

They wouldn't be able to save them. Cavel's clan would die, just as Bashta's had. Cavel's heart turned to stone in his chest. 

The Jaguar huffed again, the sound amused as he looked at Bashta. "You are silly, Dear One. Your clan, all clans; are my people. I created you; I succor you in times of trouble, and share with you in times of joy. I will sing for you, for both of you, in your bonding ceremony." 

He padded over to stand directly in front of Cavel and Bashta, so close they could feel the heat from his body. "Stand."

Silently, they stood before him. 

"Bow." 

Both men bent forward, showing their respect for the spirit of their people. As they stood the Jaguar touched his forehead to each of theirs briefly. His warm silky fur felt like a soft caress as he rubbed their faces gently. Cavel felt him enter his mind, encompassing and enveloping them in a presence that felt indescribable as he tested their mate bond. He did the same to Bashta. A purr rumbled in his chest as he moved back a pace. 

"Oh yes, this will be a very good mating for our people."

"Thank you, Great One," Cavel said, his voice thick with emotion. Bashta didn't speak, just bowed again.

"Take up the offered rings," he instructed them. They moved past him and each picked up one shining black ring from the flaming eye still shining on the altar. It was so bright they had to block their eyes shining behind its surface. They looked up to the jaguar who was now facing them from across the altar. "Hold the rings in your right hands, palm up."

His deep, rumbling voice began chanting in the ancient language Bashta had used for their cleansing. It was unlike any mating chant Cavel had ever heard, beginning as a single melody. Usually both families sang for the mated pair, the sounds blending together. Somehow the jaguar's song did the same, growing richer and pulling both of them into the song. They were tugged closer together, their free hands joining. Cavel could feel his inner cats rubbing against him, pressing against his skin from the inside. 

Bashta whimpered and Cavel knew he must feel it too.

With their eyes closed they didn't see the Jaguar unsheathe the claws on one paw and slice across both their hands still held palm up, black rings centered on their palms. Their twin gasps filled the air as blood welled from the deep cuts and washed over the rings cradled in their hands. Turning to face each other, they joined their hands, their blood mingling as they clasped their rings between them. Two cries came from each distended throat as their heads fell back and they dropped to their knees in pain and ecstasy flooding their bodies, doubled as their bond grew between them. 

Their cats came rushing to the surface as a wave of magic enveloped their bodies.

Starting at the hairline their jaguar clan markings appeared as black rosettes to cover their temples, flowing down their necks and spreading across their bare backs. They gasped as muscles stretched and rippled, shifting and growing. Their claws erupted on hands still clenched tight together, puncturing skin and flesh. The blood dripped onto the floor between them onto the porous black stone before the altar. The flames in the temple flared, filling the room with a living brilliance as their minds met and melded in a fiery clash.

When it faded both men were slumped against each other, still on their knees. The Jaguar sat before them, calmly waiting as their minds began to quiet and separate. It was long minutes as they reveled in each other's emotions through their bond. Truly bonded mates at last; they each explored the other's depth of feeling and found answering deep wells of love and devotion.

"A very good mating," the Jaguar said as they finally pulled apart, both physically and mentally. Only their hands stayed linked around the rings but their minds stayed linked to that deep well hidden within each other. It was enough that they were no longer deaf to the world around them. 

"The rings are an outward sign of your connection, to each other and to this place. You are now mated but not yet fully bonded. That will only happen when you share yourselves in the last of the ceremony."

Cavel smiled as Bashta blushed furiously. Cavel knew that the first night as a truly bonded couple was the most treasured memory for all mates. He was ready to go home and bring salvation to his clan but they deserved this moment in time for themselves. He lamented that it would be a bit more hurried than a normal pair's but he would make their first time an erotic and loving time for both of them to remember fondly as they grew older.

"I know what is asked of you is not easy Bashta, to forever leave the home of your people. So that you do not lose your roots here, where our kind began, you shall both return each year to the Temple. You are Protectors of all jaguars, bound to me and to my Temple. Bring your kitlings and your clan. Stay true to our ways and keep the spirits strong in your clan and you will prosper."

Bashta bowed from his knees, his forehead touching the ground before the Jaguar. "It shall be done as you say, Great One. You will always be revered in our clan for saving their lives." He sat up and smiled brilliantly. "I will never be alone again, because of your generosity. In our home especially, your memory shall never be forgotten."

The Jaguar rumbled in pleasure, touching each of their foreheads with his again, his power rolling through them and across their bond in benediction. When they opened their eyes, he was gone and the wounds on their palms were healed. Cavel pounced on Bashta, hugging him as tight as he could.

"None of this would have been possible without you." He leaned over to kiss his mate gently. "I love you."

"I love you more than you can know," Bashta replied. He looked down at his hands nervously and realized he still held the ring in his fist. Etched in orange across the black band there were now flames in a pattern that seemed to move and flicker. He held it out in a silent offer. 

Cavel held out his free hand as Bashta held up his. Together, both men slid the warm rings on the first finger of each other's left hands. Cavel brought both hands up to Bashta's face, peppering it with soft kisses across his forehead, eyes, and cheeks. He finally settled his lips over that succulent mouth, gently parting Bashta's lips with his tongue and seeking out the warm inside of his mouth to roll and caress with his tongue. 

They were both breathing heavily when Cavel pulled back and buried his face against Bashta's neck. He greedily sucked on the skin, bringing blood and heat to the surface around one of the new round black marks.

"I like these. You look so sexy." 

Bashta moaned, raising his chin and baring his neck. "More, please... more!"

***

Cavel laid him down gently on the stone floor, lying to one side of Bashta. He lightly kissed the red mark he had already made and then began slowly licking and sucking again, this time at the base of Bashta's jaw.

Bashta heard himself begging but he didn't care. The sensations were rolling through his sensitive skin. His sense of touch, hearing, and smell all were much more acute in his newly bonded form. He felt as if Cavel's tongue was bathing the actual nerve endings under his skin as the scent of their arousal mingled and combined into a heady aphrodisiac that filled the chamber. 

He whimpered, making Cavel chuckle and then bury his hands in his hair to pull his head back into an even more vulnerable position, kissing down the side of his neck. When Bashta remained limp and unresisting Cavel struck, a large sucking bite over his carotid. It stung but Bashta didn't move, waiting for Cavel. Nipping gently and laving the skin with his tongue, Cavel began to purr in pleasure when he remained motionless. His emotions flowed through their bond to Bashta.

Bashta felt a wave of pressure as the vibration pulsed through his neck and the sensation forced his manhood erect in moments. It was like lightning streaked through him until he was unable to remain still any longer. His arms came up to Cavel's shoulders, clutching them as his hips began to move, begging with silent movements for more touching, more caresses.

Cavel opened his mouth, licking his mating mark with his tongue and then kissed it gently. He lifted his head to stare at his mate with shining eyes. "You like this?"

Bashta groaned. "Spirits, yes! Don't stop."

Cavel grinned. "Oh I have no intentions of doing that," he said teasingly. He moved up to straddle Bashta's body, kissing his way from his mark down his neck to his chest, attacking each nipple as his hands roamed, touching and kneading. His claws scraped gently against Bashta's sides and thighs and then dug into his slender hips, holding him still. 

Moving down again, Cavel circled Bashta's belly button with his tongue, dipping it inside and chuckling when Bashta moaned and then cursed in agony at the instant pulse of his insistent arousal at the sensation.

Bashta was awash in the feeling of the warm wet tongue tickling and caressing his body. It felt like Cavel was touching him everywhere at once. He shuddered and arched his back, desperately trying to bring his weeping member to Cavel's attention but his larger mate held his hips firmly, not letting him move as he teased. Hot, moist air washed over him and his breath hitched as he waited in anticipation.

Even then he was hopelessly unprepared for the onslaught of sensation when Cavel's mouth engulfed him and began to bob up and down from base to tip, sucking fiercely. He cried out, surprised and pleased.

"Oh spirits, Cavel," he moaned. 

He could feel the drawing sensations pulling deep inside him, tugging at their bond. Cavel was unconsciously pumping his hips, brushing his own cock against Bashta's thighs. They were both panting, reveling in the feelings of love and pleasure through their bond. Cavel pulled off with one final strong pull, drawing a groan from Bashta.

"Why did you stop?" Bashta asked anxiously, panting. His hands were stroking Cavel's head and kneading his shoulders as his claws flicked in and out.

"I need you," Cavel said honestly, his own body drawn tight almost to the point of pain. They laid there, Cavel on top of Bashta and stared in each other's eyes. Bashta watched his mate as he struggled for control. "I don't want to hurt you."

Bashta reached up to cup Cavel's cheek with one hand. "You would never do that. I know you now, remember? We're two halves of one whole. I trust you."

Cavel buried his face in Bashta's neck. "Thank you." He kissed him gently. "We need something to ease the way. Maybe there would be something slick we could use near the hot spring pools?"

Bashta blushed and looked at the altar. "I think we provided everything we would need tonight already." Cavel smiled when he looked up and saw the gourd with the tucuma oil. He reached up and brought it down and set it on the floor next to them. Taking a deep breath, he touched slowly, kissing Bashta's face and neck, pulling up to kiss his mouth deeply, tongue thrusting.

Minutes passes as they caressed each other. Cavel's claws began to dig into Bashta's hips, lifting him as they rubbed their cocks together. Their breathing began to pick up as they began to feel their previous urgency take them over. Cavel reached out and dipped a finger in the gourd. Settling himself between Bashta's thighs he kissed his lower stomach before reaching down. 

Bashta gasped when he felt the silky wetness against him as Cavel began to gently open him. His gasp turned into a groan at the slow, deliberate penetration. The addition of two and three fingers made him writhe in need as his body easily accommodated his mate's explorations with only a small bit of pain that made the pleasure greater. 

Unable to hold the sound back, he mewled in need.

"Roll over," Cavel growled. He urged Bashta up on his hands and knees. One hand caressed the muscular back and shoulders in long soothing strokes as his other coated his straining erection. Bashta watched between his legs, panting as he watched Cavel shudder and close his eyes. His head shot back as Cavel ran a stream of oil across Bashta's ass. 




Two of a Kind Ch. 03



That Friday was horrid. All day long Crystal was over excited. I dealt with half a dozen meltdowns before we even got to Marcy's house. Kids are funny like that, especially the special ones, they can just sense your moods and push your buttons. It is not that they are being naughty or trying to upset you more, it is more that you being upset makes them insecure and that comes out in their behaviors. And boy did it with Crystal that day. 

When we got to Marcy's house it was not much better. Josh had lost one of his 'special' collectibles. And everyone was tearing the house apart looking for it while Marcy was half dressed and all beautiful. It broke something deep inside of me to do what a best friend would, but I did it anyway. I told her to go finish getting dressed that I would handle it. And by the time she came downstairs half an hour later, we had found it...in the wrong box. And all was quiet on the Western front. 

She was so fucking beautiful, you have no idea. I tried to remember if I had ever seen her in make-up before, but I could not. So the answer was probably no. And it was not like it was some garish Las Vegas show girl shit, it was more like a light dusting that enhanced her natural beauty. But it was her long brown hair that fell half way down her back in gentle waves that took my breath away. It was hard not to imagine wrapping my hands in its softness and using it to hold her still as I kissed and explored the recesses of her mouth. Oh yeah, I had it bad.

She had not dressed over the top either. A simple denim skirt that I said seen her wear at least half a dozen times, but it always made the most of her long legs. She had though added a top that I had never seen before. One that was cut a bit low and hugged her firm tits. The necklace that she wore nestled between her cleavage only added to her allure. I thought I recognized that necklace, it was a charms with each of her children's names and birthdates written upon the small silver girls and boy. She was beautiful, a desirable woman and I was jealous as fuck of the guy she was dating. 

Like the good friend I was I smiled and told her to have a good time, not to worry about the kids, I had it all under control. And I did too. I ordered pizza...one for Crystal with her favorite toppings and one for Josh with his then another for me, Mandy and Sadie. It was a good thing they had a deal on. Then I bathed Sadie and got Josh settled in his room on his favorite game. The girls were pretty easy playing with dolls and watching that video...the one that every little girl is mad over these days. 

It was the perfect domestic scene. The life that I dreamt of. Except for one thing...the woman that I loved and wanted by my side was on a date with a man. I kept reminding myself how selfish I was being. Marcy deserved happiness and if I could not give it to her then I should be glad that someone else was. While my mind could grasp that my heart screamed in pain. 

It did not help that I had to field half a dozen calls from Marcy that night. "How are the kids? Any problems? You know Josh needs this...or Sadie likes that to get to sleep." And that crack in my heart got wider but I just smiled and replied, "Don't worry. I know that."

It was close to midnight when I finally pried Josh away from his game, but I knew that was close to his 'normal' bed time anyway...another of the joys of raising autistic children is body clocks that never work quite the same as the rest of us. But at last they were all down. I sat in the dark living room trying to decide what to do now. Maybe I should not have pushed Josh so hard to get him down. I could have used the company. 

I was just about to pick up the remote and turn on mindless television when I thought I heard something. It sounded like a kitten maybe? And it was coming from the garage. I knew it was too early for Marcy to be home from her date, but maybe she had left the door up and a lost creature had somehow made its way in there? 

But as I walked through the kitchen and utility room, my alarm went off more with each step. This was no kitten. Unless it was a mountain lion. In real distress too. When I opened the door, I got the shock of my life. Marcy's car was parked there and she sat in the front seat, her head against the steering wheel as her whole body shook with giant sobs. 

I did the only thing I could do. What any friend would do. I went to her and opened the car door. I pulled her out and wrapped my arms about. She did not even fight me. She just came into my arms. She felt so right as she laid her head against my shoulder and held me so tightly as if she too were afraid to let go. And she cried...and cried...and cried. I do not know how long but my arm had long since gone to sleep and I kept having to remind myself not to lock my knees or we would both end up on the cold hard concrete floor. 

At last her sobs quieted enough that I could risk drawing back, not far, just enough to look into her face. How was it possible that even with her eyes swollen, red and puffy and her nose running this woman would still be breathtakingly beautiful? But she was. Even the silly dark mascara smudges on her cheeks only highlighted her pale skin. 

"Let's go inside. I'll run you a bath and pour you a glass of wine," I said as I led her towards the door. 

She shook her head, "I don't want to wake the kids. That's why I stayed out here so long?"

I frowned, "How long have you been out here?" The idea of her sitting alone, crying in the cold, dark garage ate at my gut.

"I don't know. I left the bar a little after ten," she replied. Two hours. She had been there all alone for almost two when I was just yards away. I felt like I had failed her somehow. But I could not dwell on that now. Right now I needed to take care of her. 

I was still afraid of letting her out of my sight so we stopped in the kitchen for a glass and a bottle of wine. No need for a cork screw, we were single mothers, the wines we could afford to drink on those rare occasions when we allowed ourselves the luxury always had screw on caps. But sometimes the simple thing in life taste even sweeter than the fancy ones. 

I led her down the hallway. Of course we had to stop and check on the kids. The girls were all three piled into Mandy's twin bed. So I did a bit of rearranging to make sure that there were cushions on the floor, just in case Sadie fell off during the night. And Marcy had to grab Josh's old teddy from next to his computer and tuck it under his arm, "He'll have a fit if he wakes up in the night and can't find Oscar," she whispered as she bent to kiss her son's forehead. 

And I fell even deeper in love with this woman. Even if all I could ever be to her was a best friend and occasional babysitter to lighten her load, it was the least I could do for her. So I made certain to hand her a towel and turn my back as she undressed, focusing upon getting the temperature just right before adding bubbles...from a pink princess figurine no less. 

When I was finished, I stood up and smiled at her. "Get it while I pour the wine." She just nodded and once more I gave her the privacy she needed. When I heard the splash, I gave her a moment more to get adjusted safely under the layer of bubbles before turning around. "I'll go now so you can relax," I said as I held out the glass for her.

She took the glass but wrapped her hand around mine and held tight as she shook her head, "Please don't. I could use a friend."

I nodded, "Okay then. Do you want to talk about it?"

She took a long sip of the wine, draining half the glass. She seemed to just stare straight ahead, not even hearing me. I thought about asking again, but figured that sometimes silence spoke louder than words. So I just sat down on the toilet next to the bath and waited. 

I thought that perhaps she did not want to talk at all because it was several long minutes before she let out a sigh. It was not even a sigh really. It sounded more like one of the children had blown up a balloon almost to the point of popping. Then rather than tie it off they had let it go. The air swooshing and rushing out of the tiny opening, as it squeaked and squealed about the room dancing in large circles through the air.

"Something is wrong with me," she said as she looked down at the bubbles and drained the rest of the wine from the glass. I picked up the bottle off the floor and refilled her glass. I waited again without words. The story would come out when she was ready...as it should be. She drank more of the wine and this time she looked up at me and her gaze met mine before she continued.

"I think I hate men. Maybe I always have?" she finished the wine and held out the glass.

I frowned as I only half filled it this time. Tomorrow was going to come soon enough after a night like this and with three demanding children she did not need a hangover compounding the issues. "What do you mean?"

"All he wanted to do was talk about himself. Anytime I mentioned my life or the kids, he just rolled his eyes and changed the subject. Then when we went out on the dance floor, he wanted to dry hump and make out more than dance. It was disgusting. It always is," she said with that wry half smile that I had come to know and love as self-deprecating. 

"I know. Sometimes they just don't get it, sweetie. I think Crystal's dad thought I did not all day long but sat on my ass watching soap operas and eating bon-boons. " We both chuckled then. "But I am sure that somewhere out there is a man that will recognize you for the beautiful, caring, intelligent soul that you are. A man like that will cherish and protect you, making your life easier not harder." I forced the words that I thought she needed to hear past the knot in my throat even if all I wanted to do was shout...I am that person.

She shook her head, "It is more than that." She blushed and looked at the bubbles again, "I think I might be lesbian," she whispered so low that I was not sure I had heard her at all, let alone correctly. 

"What did you say?" I stammered.

She sighed again, "When he kissed me, it was just...yucky." I had to fight the need to laugh at the face she made then. It was so like Josh's when you tried to make him eat something he did not like. I ended up smiling I guess because when she looked up at me, my world tilted on its axis...not listed but tilted a whole ninety degrees or more. And I was not sure it would ever right itself when she spoke again, "Not like when you kissed me."

I swallowed my tongue not just at her words, but the way she was looking at me. The same look that Crystal gets when she sees a toy that she wants on television. The one that said...now or I will have a meltdown. But it was me who was having the meltdown now. I must be hearing her wrong. I knew I was for sure when she held out her hand towards me and whispered, "Kiss me again."

I sat there frozen. I honestly did not know what to do. She was offering me everything I had dreamt of for weeks or months. But what if...what if she got scared again? What if this time she ran? What if I ruined our friendship? It would destroy our children in the process. 

I don't know what I would have decided. What I would have done then. Because Marcy never gave me the chance to find out. She held my gaze as she stood up from the tub. Her skin glistened and glowed from the warmth of the water. Bubbles clung to her skin, occasionally popping to form a thin film across her skin.

She stepped out of the tub and stood in front of me. She was dripping wet as she reached for my hand and placed it palm down over her heart. I could feel it pounding a rapid beat as I fought to restart my own. She looked down at me and whispered, "Love me, please."

It was the one request I could never refuse. How any one could was beyond me with this strong, loving beautiful creature standing naked before me? I had survived so many things before, so much heart ache and so had she. I could only hope that when the morning came this was not a choice either of us would regret.

I took her hand and we walked back down that hall together. We made our way to her bedroom and the moment the door was closed we found our way into one another's arms. Marcy was soft and pliable one minute and hard and demanding the next. We kissed and caressed as my clothes flew to land wherever on the floor. 

We fell onto her bed as hands explored and caressed. Her nipples were so damned sensitive and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that her right one was pierced. I took the lead. It just seemed natural somehow but Marcy followed more than willingly. And when I worked my way down her body to heaven, well, it was a taste and feel I never wanted to leave again. Her body was so responsive and she was soon soring as my mouth and fingers worked her clit and g-spot to a frenzied pitch.

Then she collapsed back against the pillow. Her body glistened with sweat and every muscle was lax, fully satiated. For now at least. I climbed slowly up the bed, caressing her soft skin and enjoying the feel of her shuddering beneath me. I gathered her in my arms and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead then. "Sleep, angel. We will talk tomorrow."

But before morning could bring that talk, long talk, that we needed to have, I was awakened to the feel of lips kissing and suckling upon my tits. Of hands moving across my abdomen, brushing and igniting fires. "Show me how to love you the way you loved me," she whispered as she nibbled at the turgid peak of my nipple. 

I could not refuse a request like that. And Marcy was a natural. What she might have lacked in style the girl made up for in heart. She followed my every instruction and soon she had my body reaching for those same stars that I had shown her earlier. 

The first rays of morning sunshine was filtering through the curtains when we awoke. We both knew that the children would be up soon. We knew too that there was not enough time for the long and complicated talk that we needed to have. Instead we choose to do rather than merely talk. Our bodies locked into a sixty-nine as we moved and pleasured one another. 

Of course that talk had to come. And it did later that day after we had made pancakes for the children, packed a picnic lunch with loads of toys and driven to the local park with four adorable if challenging youngsters in the back of my SUV. They played as the Mommies talked but then again that was nothing new for them. What they were not used to was when we got back home, we all went into the same house. Crystal and I never did leave again. 

Marcy and I decided that neither one of us were really comfortable with the term lesbian. We preferred to think of ourselves simply as two women, strong and intelligent, who just happened to fall in love with another woman. Not that we have anything against lesbians or the word even. Simply that for us it is more about who you love than how you love them. 

We did though end up as the poster child for gay marriage in our local community when we went back to that same park with four cute kids, friends and family to say our commitment vows. We both wore white wedding dresses and the munchkins had their parts too...each promising to take the other as their brother or sister to love, laugh and fight as a family should for as long as we all shall live. 

And that is how to single moms with autistic children discovered that you cannot afford to be picky about where love comes from...as long as it finds you then all is good. We hope you find that kind of happiness too whether it has a penis or a clitoris.



Two of a Kind Ch. 03



His mate used both hands to stroke and caress him as he shifted and moved closer. He leaned over and ran his lips across Bashta's neck and shoulders, sucking and biting as he positioned himself against him, thrusting back and forth a few times against Bashta's ass.

Bashta moaned and arched as chills raced through him. Suddenly he felt teeth break the skin and bury into the muscles where his neck and shoulder met in a deep bite. His body went limp and would have fallen if Cavel's hands were not under his chest and stomach, holding him up. In that moment Cavel thrust his hips forward in one long, smooth stroke that drove a scream from Bashta as the pain of the bite and abrupt penetration flowed over and under the flood of pleasure they shared as they joined and their minds bonded again.

Reveling with the pleasure in both their heads and bodies they moved instinctively together. Pulling his mouth from that sensitive spot on Bashta's neck, Cavel began to lick at the bloody teeth marks, sucking on them as he moaned and panted. Bashta's back arched as Cavel's hips rolled forward, their bodies slapping together over and over. Their eyes were blind to the flames in the Temple rising into an inferno around them as they came closer and closer to completion.

Bashta found it first as Cavel brushed against his prostate again and again as he stroked in and out. He could feel the pressure building but he fought the bond and the sensations that were overwhelming him. 

"Cavel... oh spirits. I... I don't know..." His voice broke and he shuddered.

"Shhh, let go," Cavel growled in his ear, "just feel. Let go for me, I'll catch you."

The small stinging nip to his ear from Cavel's sharp teeth sent him over the precipice. He cried out at the pleasure, calling Cavel's name as he climaxed. The rhythmic tightening of his body milking Cavel's rock hard length set him off just seconds later and their cries blended as their minds merged and their souls combined. Locked into a moment of time that seemed endless they strained together, feeling each other's bodies and minds explode with pleasure. 

The flames above the Temple flared high, turning night into day until their bodies went limp after a final shudder of pleasure burst through them and they collapsed to the floor. Exhausted, Cavel rolled to one side. Bashta shuddered as he pulled out, then slid to the ground. He turned to face Cavel and snuggled into his chest.

He pulled Cavel's hand up to his mouth and nibbled on the pads of his fingers before kissing his palm and then sighing in contentment. "Just one hour and then we will go purify ourselves in the pools, okay?" Bashta murmured, already falling asleep.

"Of course, my love. Anything you want." Cavel tightened his arms around him as he too fell asleep.

***

The journey out of the jungle didn't take nearly as long as it did to find the Temple. With Bashta leading the men they made a straight line for the edge of the jungle. Cavel smiled in amusement as Bashta felt another flare of embarrassment when Piscel teased him about his ears again. They were wide at the base then flowed into a neat triangle. He thought they were sexy as hell; not to mention sensitive. Just a finger stroke down the backside was enough to have him quivering in anticipation, his cock hard as a rock for his mate. Cavel began to get hard himself just thinking about it and he blushed when Bashta turned back to glare at him.

"Do you think you can control yourself?" he snapped. 

He was dressed in Piscel's spare clothes, the smallest of the jaguars with them. They hid quite a bit more than his breechclout had but the scent of Cavel's arousal was having an unfortunate affect on him and it was pretty obvious. His ears twitched in irritation and Saulle laughed.

His attitude toward Bashta was completely different after they came out of the Temple, transformed and fully bonded. Bashta could feel it to, that connection to Cavel's clan, their clan. It eased the tensions in the group and they fully included Bashta now where before there had been a distance, a separation of clan and not clan. Once Cavel told them of his plan to produce the antiserum there was quiet celebration and a renewed sense of urgency. They had hope now and that sped them on their way home.

Home. 

Cavel smiled at the thought. They had left the jungle that morning and traveled along a dirt road until they came to a small town. From there they hired a couple of cars and made their way into the larger towns. Once they got to the airport they were one flight away from Fresno. From there it would be a forty-five minute flight on a small plane or a four hour drive home to Lone Pine. 

Close to mountains, the small town was home to their clan. They owned a large tract of land that protected a trail up to a rugged wildlife area never visited by humans that was perfect for their clan when they needed space or room to roam.

Bashta wasn't excited like the other men. He had gotten quieter as they traveled into the human populated areas. His hands flexed and his claws kept coming out, puncturing the cloth covering his thighs as his agitation grew. When they got out of the car at the airport a plane was just taking off. His ears went flat to his skull and he cowered back from the loud roar of the engines as the plane sped skyward.

"Cavel, you better get over here," Saulle called. 

Cavel ran around the car, dropping to his knees next to the distraught man. He concentrated on sending soothing waves of calm certainty through their bond to calm the rising hysteria he sensed. Bashta looked up at him, his eyes wide and filled with fear. Gathering him into his arms, Cavel stood up. He looked around, spotting an isolated bench near a fountain on one side of the entrance. Walking slowly toward it, the clan men gathered around them, blocking the view of the curious people gawking at the large group of Carthera.

Cavel sat them down, holding on to Bashta. His mate's rigid body refused to relax and he trembled against him. He stroked Bashta's hair, running his hands through the heavy strands without saying a word. He focused on calming the turbulent emotions he felt inside their bond, sending calm and sharing his own peace until Bashta finally shuddered and his body went limp. His arms unclenched and he laid his head on Cavel's shoulder and snuggled into his body. Cavel continued to stroke his hair as Bashta sought comfort by nuzzling his neck.

"I don't know if I can do this," Bashta admitted, letting Cavel feel his shame at his weakness. "I could barely stand to be in that... that car, even with the windows down. It scared me, going that fast without moving my own body. Now you say I have to get in one of those," his eyes cut toward the airplanes visible against the small terminal, "and trust that it won't come crashing down out of the sky."

"I know it's a lot to ask but it's the only way. We can't afford to travel overland, it would take too long. This way we will be home in mere hours; well... in Fresno, at least. We have more traveling, but it will be easier, I promise.

"You can do this, I know you can. You're strong, one of the strongest people I know. You are a black jaguar, an alpha of our clan. You may not know them in here yet," he tapped Bashta's head, "but in here you know them as well as I do." Cavel placed his hand on Bashta's heart. "You won't let them down."

Cavel could see the struggle in Bashta, the newfound bond with his clan, his trust and love of Cavel fighting his fear of the modern world around them and the idea of being encased in a metal object hurtling through the sky. Locking their eyes, Cavel tried to send him reassurance and love as he sat patiently holding him. "I'll be with you every step of the way," he assured him. "I'm not going to rush you into this." They would go when his mate came to terms with his fears, not a moment before.

"You won't let go of me? Not for anything?" Bashta whispered.

"Never." Cavel leaned down and brushed their cheeks together in an affectionate caress. Bashta's overwhelming fear was starting to ease when Saulle came hurrying up from the baggage area with a small package in his hand. He had checked their bags with the outside attendant while Cavel calmed Bashta. Their flight left in just three hours.

Saulle held out a small box. "I think this might help. The seer gave me these before we left. For the little one she said." He looked, licking his lips. "I'm sorry, I forgot about them before now."

Cavel opened the box. Nestled inside were two small capsules filled with a dark fluid. He looked at them and then up at Saulle. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are those supposed to do?"

"Calm him down for the flight." 

Cavel started to shake his head and Saulle stopped him before he could speak. "I can feel him broadcasting through the clan bond. If he gets any worse he's going to start affecting the humans around us. A bunch of humans broadcasting fear in an enclosed space? We don't need that kind of trouble."

"I'll take whatever you think I should," Bashta said quietly, before Cavel could speak. "He's right. The thought of just going in the building makes it worse. I don't know if I would be able to walk in there, even with your help."

He unclenched one fist from Cavel's shirt and held out his hand. Cavel carefully put one of the capsules in his palm. Taking a deep breath, Bashta daintily licked it up, swallowing the pill without water. He took a deep breath and Cavel hugged him. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of gas and fumes in the air. "Can we wait a little while longer before we go in?"

Cavel nuzzled him again. "Yeah, we can. Not too long, but long enough for you to relax." Cavel looked up at Saulle. 'Thank you,' he mouthed silently. Saulle smiled at him in return before joining the other men still standing in a loose perimeter around the bench.

The little food Bashta had managed to eat the past two days of traveling was barely anything. It was just a few minutes before the effects of the pill started flooding his body. Cavel watched him in concern, feeling their bond go fuzzy but was reassured by the lazy grin on Bashta's face and the way his mate nuzzled his neck. "Ready now, babe?"

"Mmhmm," Bashta murmured. His smile was lazy, curling across his face. "I feel funny, like I ate overripe fruit."

Saulle laughed. "That lady wasn't messing around. Glad she's on our side." He moved up beside Cavel as he stood up, helping him support Bashta. "Security is through the main doors and to the left."

The humans in the airport eyed them warily, especially Bashta and Cavel with their black jaguar markings. Their kind was rare and the security screeners eyed them suspiciously, but there were no hold ups as they moved toward their gate and flight home. Cavel barely got Bashta into his seat and buckled in before the smaller man curled up against him and fell asleep. Halfway through the flight Cavel woke him and fed him the other pill. He had to suppress his own unease on the plane; his jaguar side did not being contained. He curled around his mate and purred gently when Bashta twisted his hands in his shirt and snuggled closer in his sleep. Hours passed as he sat watching over his mate.

The plane was on the ground and pulling up to the terminal before Cavel gently shook Bashta awake. He was still confused as Cavel helped him stumble off the plane. The clan men all gathered in a large group and made their way down to baggage claim, the walk helped burn off some of the fog of the herbs in Bashta's system. Cavel left Bashta with Saulle to make a quick call while they were waiting for their bags. He closed his cell phone and made his way over to where Saulle was standing with Bashta right behind him.

"I'm taking Bashta straight to the clinic here. I've phoned Dr. Waddel to meet us there to begin the process to make the antiserum. I'll take Piscel with us and send him back with the first batches on the clan's helicopter. I need you to take the rest of the men home and get all the clan together at the hall. Can you do that?"

Saulle nodded; his face both hopeful and worried. "Do you think we made it in time?" His face turned toward their home, as if he could find a way to see their loved ones through the distance and know they were okay.

Cavel's expression tightened. "We won't know until you get there. I hope we are; I just don't know." He squeezed Saulle's shoulder. "Don't worry; the doctors will work as fast as they can." 

***

The sterile white walls of the clinic and the smells of the antiseptic made Bashta wrinkle his nose. He looked over at Cavel and Piscel who both rubbed their noses as well. The place was empty, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The streetlights shining on the blinds covering the windows made them look orange, casting black stripes across the white floor.

"Wow, that's bad," Cavel said with a wince when he took a breath. "Has it always smelled this bad?" he asked Piscel.

"It's the transformation. Your nose is a lot more sensitive now," he answered.

Bashta sneezed and then did it again. He seemed to have some difficulty breathing as soon as they entered the building. Cavel looked at him worriedly, grabbing a handful of tissues off the check in desk they were bypassing. He handed them over to Bashta.

"Are you okay?" he asked after Bashta sneezed explosively again.

Bashta shook his head. "Something in here smells really bad."

An older man came out of a room at the end of the hall when he heard their voices. He hurried over to them. He stared openly at Cavel, taking in the mating marks, the spots running down the sides of his face and his ears. "I see congratulations are in order," he said, offering Cavel a nod of his head and looking curiously at Bashta. "This is your mate?"

"Yes, he is. Bashta, I would like you to meet Dr. Waddel. He treats the members of our clan when we have a serious injury or illness. He has always proven to be a great friend to us."

Dr. Waddel smiled at him and shook his head. "I do no more than give what I have been given in return." He looked at Bashta. "I was being attacked by a small pack of rogues while hiking in the woods one day and your mate and some of the men of the clan fought them off. They saved my life."

Bashta offered him a smile and then sneezed again. His voice was thick like his nose had become stuffy as he spoke, "I'm not surprised. My name is Bashta. I greet you, Dr. Waddel." He sneezed explosively and his ears went flat. "I'm sorry, but is there somewhere else we can go?"

"Something in the air is irritating my mate," Cavel said, his own nose twitching. "He has lived in the open environment of the jungle his entire life. The chemicals you use are a bit... strong for ordinary Carthera anyway but for him it's much worse."

"Oh!" Dr. Waddel exclaimed. "Please, come this way. I have a room set up with the equipment you asked. Maintenance recently came through and cleaned, the chemicals are most likely causing the trouble." He ushered them into the room he had come from.

"I called for some help. Dr. Pennelst is a colleague of mine; he should be able to make the antiserum here in the laboratory. I think you should know that it will take a few days though, not hours." Dr. Pennelst was walking forward, one hand extended when Cavel growled. He stopped mid-step and started at Cavel with wide eyes.

"A few days!" Cavel roared. Piscel slumped against the wall and Bashta took a few steps back. "What do you mean a few days? Our kitlings could already be dying."

"Producing a proper antiserum normally takes months, Cavel. We'll be working day and night as it is. You know I would never do anything to risk the lives of the kitlings." Dr. Waddel walked over to where Cavel was pacing in frustration, stepping between him and the frozen Dr. Pennelst. Bashta stood quietly, giving the very upset alpha some space. Piscel intercepted the doctor before he could get too close. He shook his head when the doctor looked at him.

Cavel continued to mutter as he moved angrily about the small room. One his third circuit Bashta stepped in front of him. Cavel jerked to a stop, his eyes flat and his eyes narrowed. He snarled in anger, his temper holding on by just a thread. 

"Move!"

"You are not helping anyone this way," Bashta said quietly. Cavel snarled again. He took the last step between them and invaded Bashta's personal space. He pushed into Bashta's chest and glared.

"I said, move!"

"No," Bashta said calmly. "The kitlings need this medicine and they can't start making it until you calm down." He held his ground, looking deep into Cavel's eyes. He didn't push back at Cavel but didn't move back an inch either. "They need you calm. I need you calm."

Cavel shook his head, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, "Days. They could already be dying. We don't have days."

"You don't know that yet. We haven't seen the kitlings. What we do know is that these men are here to help us and you are losing control. Get it back. Everyone is doing the best they can," he reminded him. 

Reaching out, Bashta ran his hand down the side of Cavel's face. "I am scared too. I have already lost one clan to this plague, I don't want to lose my new one as well," he said softly.

Cavel's eyes closed and his shoulders relaxed as he finally accepted the calm Bashta was sending him through their bond. He reached out and pulled Bashta into his arms roughly, burying his face in his hair. Bashta could feel the tremors in his body but said nothing, rubbing his cheek comfortingly on Cavel's neck, combining their scents. 

A few minutes passed as they stood comforting each other. Cavel took a deep breath and lifted his head. Piscel and the doctors avoided looking at his reddened eyes as he spoke quietly.

"I'm sorry, Bashta is right. I'm not being a very good alpha. I understand you will work as fast as you can to make a cure for my people. Thank you, Dr. Pennelst; we will be forever grateful if you can save our kitlings. I'm sorry if I frightened you."

Dr. Pennelst nodded. "Of course."

"What do we need to do?" Cavel asked.

"If you would just have your mate sit on the table; I have a few questions." Cavel led Bashta over to the paper lined exam table and stood next to him, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

The doctor held his pen over a clipboard. "You say you had the same sickness as the young of Cavel's tribe?"

"I didn't get the sores. My mother took me to a sacred spot to soak in some hot pools to heal an infected wound. Apparently the magic of the pools healed the plague as well but I was only suffering the beginning symptoms."

The doctors shared a look and then turned back to look at Bashta, their faces skeptical. 

Cavel frowned at them. "I know humans don't believe in magic that they can't see and touch, but it is there. There are forces beyond our knowledge: gods, goddesses, avatars, objects of power. How can you treat people who are half animal and not believe in the magic that is inherent in our very nature?"

Dr. Waddel cleared this throat. "It's not so much that we think you are lying." Bashta stiffened and the doctor hurriedly continued, "It's just that we need to make sure they did have the exact same plague or the antiserum will not work."

Cavel grudgingly nodded, "Alright. A misunderstanding on both our parts." He would not back down further and apologize for castigating the doctors but they were used to Carthera patients. 

A very touchy lot in general; when one was injured or sick they were much more sensitive, especially if it was a loved one. In this case Cavel's whole clan was at risk; his temper was understandable in the light of the fear of that loss but he had to try hard to curb it. Bashta could feel it through their bond, his iron control.




Two of a Kind Ch. 03



"In any event, we have... impeccable assurances that Bashta is indeed the sole surviving victim of this plague."

Dr. Pennelst stared at Cavel for a moment before dropping his eyes before the more dominant man. "Alright. I should be able to draw several vials of your mate's blood today and use that to create a batch of antiserum. Once I have that I can replicate it synthetically and the initial dose can be given to the sickest members of your clan."

Cavel winced at the mention of how close some of the kitlings might be to death, but he kept his mouth shut as he nodded. He held Bashta's hand as they rolled over a tray full of vials and a thick needle but kept his gaze locked on the wall as they started preparing. After putting on his gloves, Dr. Pennelst wrapped a strip of plastic around Bashta's bicep and then prodded at his arm.

"Make a fist and pump it a few times," he instructed. Still pressing on the inside of Bashta's elbow he muttered to himself then reached over for an alcohol swab. The wipe was cold on Bashta's skin as he efficiently cleaned the site. "Okay, ready?" He looked up and smiled at Bashta who was watching intently.

Bashta nodded then looked up at Cavel who shifted his eyes so they were looking at each other. "Just keep looking at me," Cavel said, smiling nervously. "Don't look at it and it will be over soon."

Bashta frowned. "Look at what?" What was going to happen?

"The needle." Cavel shuddered. He looked so anxious Bashta couldn't help but look apprehensively to see what the doctor was doing though Cavel told him not to. The doctor held a small tube in his hand with a small metal spike on the end of it.

"Is that little thing the needle?" he asked, looking from Dr. Pennelst to Cavel.

"Little!" Cavel exclaimed. "It's a damn spike!"

Piscel laughed from his spot by the door. "Awww, is Cavel afraid of a little needle?" Cavel just glared at him.

"Yes, this is the needle," the doctor said with a smile. "I'll put this in your arm and attach the vials. The blood flows from a hole in the needle into the vial. It's really not more than a pinch. Ready?"

Bashta looked from the doctor to Cavel. He shook his head, it didn't look that bad. "Yeah, go ahead."

Cavel focused on the wall again as the doctor smoothly inserted the needle into Bashta's arm. He jumped a little but then watched in fascination as bright blood began flowing into the vial and out of his body. The doctor moved very fast as he switched vials, putting the filled one down on the small table next to them. Bashta could easily smell the tang of the fluid and licked his lips. His nose quivered as his stomach growled. Dr. Pennelst looked startled and flinched, jabbing the needle a bit deeper in Bashta's arm.

"Ow!" Bashta complained. 

Cavel's head turned and glared at the doctor, hissing as he bared his sharp teeth. He couldn't control his reaction to the pain the man inflicted on his mate, their bond too new for him to be comfortable with anyone else touching him, much less hurting him. Hurriedly pulling out the needle and pushing the cap up, Dr. Pennelst stepped away. Cavel shifted, glaring at the doctor threateningly with his teeth bared. 

Bashta shushed him. "It was an accident."

He lifted up his arm to turn Cavel's face to look at him and away from the doctor. "Calm down. It didn't hurt that much." Cavel's nose quivered at the smell of blood from the small wound. He cradled Bashta's arm to him, pulling the elastic band off and then lowering his head to gently lick the small spot with delicate swipes of his tongue. Bashta sighed and Cavel moved up to nuzzle their cheeks together.

"I'm sorry. I'm a mess tonight," he whispered. Bashta nuzzled him back.

"It's okay, I am too. Will you please take me home?"

The doctors were polite but it was obvious they were glad to see them go. Three full grown Carthera jaguars were intimidating under the best of circumstances, which these were not. Cavel ushered Bashta out of the room in front of him and Piscel made more apologies to the doctors. Dr. Pennelst was already gathering up the vials into a portable refrigerated container to take to his lab; he was anxious to begin working.

"Let's get something to eat before we fly home," Cavel said. Piscel slid behind the wheel of the car and started driving. They went through a drive-thru and picked up some burgers. Bashta watched in wonder and his eyes went wide as he took his first bite. He chewed thoughtfully, rolling the food in his mouth.

"Interesting," he said. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not but it was hot and filling. 

When they got to the new airport the first thing he thought was that maybe he shouldn't have finished the third burger when he saw what they were going to be getting into to get to Cavel's home.

"What is that?"

"A helicopter." Bashta stood frozen in shock. Piscel was locking up the car as Cavel went to check on the flight plan and he caught sight of Bashta's white face as soon as he got back. "This is a lot different from the commercial flight," he explained. "We can see all around us and Cavel will be flying. I know I trust him a lot more than any human pilot."

Bashta nodded weakly but he still shook as he got in the small machine and Cavel buckled him in. His hands were clenched in his lap as they taxied over to the short runway. His eyes were wide as they took off, engines roaring as they lifted into the air and then began flying over the mountains. Cavel rumbled at him, trying to soothe his fear as the scent filled the small space.

"I'm really a very good pilot," Cavel assured him. Bashta took a few very shuddery breaths and then forced himself to relax back into his seat. He had come this far and Cavel had been with him, protecting him the whole time. He wouldn't stop now. He was able to control his fear but he didn't manage to enjoy the view of the mountains as they approached them. 'Next time,' he promised himself. Landing saw him clenching his hands together with his eyes shut but he managed not to panic.

They bumped up and down a few times as the rotors slowed and then finally drifted to a stop. Cavel smiled as Bashta carefully opened his eyes. His mouth widened in shock as he took in the surroundings. The city had been loud and smelly, overwhelming his senses. He had shuddered at the thought of living surrounded by all of that day after day but knew he didn't have a choice. But this, this was very different.

The airport sat at the edge of a small town, one and two story buildings just visible in the distance. Beyond them were mountains jutting up from the landscape, their peaks covered in white. There were trees all around, tall but with spikes instead of broad leaves like he was used to. When they finally got out of the helicopter he stood there for long moments, taking deep breaths. Beyond the smell of the metal and the fuel was a fresh clean scent born on a cool wind. 

He shivered a little, glad to have the pants and shirt for the first time. It felt much more exposed than he was used to but compared to the first city he saw it was a virtual paradise. He smiled in relief.

Cavel came behind him and wrapped him up in his arms. He rested his head on Bashta's. "Like it?" Cavel asked casually. 

Bashta could feel his anxiety through their bond before he nodded.

"Very much."

A small smile broke across Cavel's face and he gave Bashta a tight squeeze with his arms and a nuzzle with his cheek. "Good. I want you to like our home. The others should have made it back just a little bit ago. Let's go see the rest of the clan and check on the kitlings." He trembled a little and Bashta brought his arms up and held Cavel against his body.

"I won't leave you," he said. This time it was Cavel who needed the help. Bashta would support his mate as he had supported him.

After shoving the chocks in place, Piscel joined them. They left the airplane hangar and walked over to a jeep parked to one side in a small lot. Cavel pulled a key from its hidden spot under the back bumper and they all got inside. 

He took a breath and then started the engine, making sure to put the windows down which helped Bashta would feel less confined just like it had in the first car he rode in. The sun was just coming up as they left the airport, heading for the small town a few miles away. 

To the place his new clan was waiting.



Two of a Kind Ch. 04



The tear stained faces of the men they had sent ahead were not a good sign when Cavel stopped the car. They had a large community building in the center of their small town. It looked like the entire town's cars were surrounding the center. Cavel could feel his nausea growing, a heavy feeling settling in his uneasy stomach. It was early, the cool air filled with the scent of the dew on the grass of the playground. An empty playground, not unusual at this hour of the day but the empty swings made him shudder in fear.

The silence in the car was broken when Piscel got out. Cavel appreciated the moment with his mate. He cleared his throat and spoke for the first time since they got in the jeep, "We're here." 

Bashta had been looking around as they drove through town. He reached over and squeezed Cavel's knee. Cavel appreciated the gesture and tried to smile. He had a feeling he wasn't quite successful. 

"I'm here with you, Cavel, no mater what. You're not alone anymore." 

Cavel jingled the keys nervously in his hand when he got out of the jeep and walked around to meet Bashta. Grabbing his hand for the support he was in desperate need of, Cavel led him to toward the growing group of men and women streaming from the building. Bashta squeezed his hand to remind him he was there. 

"My lord." A woman pushed to the front of the crowd, their expectant faces full of hope. "Do you bring the medicine for the kitlings Saulle told us about? 

Cavel bit his lip but he kept his head up as he answered. "No."

"What? Where is it? He said you would be bringing a cure for our babies. He lied to us?" she cried.

There were cries of despair as voices were raised in disbelief and fear. So many people were talking at once that Cavel couldn't understand any of them. He could smell the sickness of the plague in the air. Many of the people in the crowd were parents and their faces were marked by grief and anxiety. The stress was obvious, many were much thinner than when he left, their hair messy and clothes wrinkled. 

He was frozen, his feelings of inadequacy swamping him as his clan seemed to disintegrate. His mate was feeling the stress as well and that was coming through their bond.

"Stop!" Piscel shouted. "Calm down!"

The sight of the younger man shouting at everyone was rare enough to quiet the crowd. They stared at the three men standing in front of them. Bashta was huddled a bit behind Cavel, eyeing the people warily. He had heard some of the comments and they did not seem very friendly toward him, especially as people vented their frustration. Cavel could feel his sadness.

"Let Cavel speak!"

The people's stares and odd growls of anger were directed at the pair of men standing next to Piscel but they remained quiet for the most part. Bashta was shaking and clutching at Cavel's hand at the renewed attention, bringing Cavel out of his frozen panic. He squeezed Bashta's hand and pulled him to his side, putting his arm around him.

"There is going to be a cure," he said first, "but I didn't know it would take several days to create. I was so eager to bring this miracle to our clan, the one we needed so badly, that I didn't wait to talk to the doctor about how long it would take. If they don't make sure they have the right antiserum our kitlings wouldn't be cured and it would take precious time from producing what they really need.

"Dr. Waddel and Dr. Pennelst promised to work around the clock until they have what we need. I plan to send a man back with the helicopter so that they can bring the very first viable antiserum to the kitlings as soon as possible." 

Cavel looked over at Bashta and smiled tenderly. "None of this would be possible without this man, my mate, Bashta."

"A mate?"

"A male? How did you become mated?"

"Where is his clan? Did they survive this plague?"

Voices were calling out, speaking over each other. Bashta looked from face to face, obviously not knowing what to say. Cavel could feel his fear but he didn't give in to it. He was mate to the Alpha, his equal in all things, and Cavel could not be prouder of the way Bashta was showing his clan his worth. Under his hand, he could feel Bashta's spine stiffen as he stood firm before the crowd, taking a step away from him to stand alone.

"My people are all dead!" he said in a loud voice, cutting across the babble of voices. "They had this same plague but no help came for them."

Silence and then a few cries of fear and sobs could be heard from some of the mothers. The faces of the crowd were white and stricken as Bashta continued.

"We did not have this science you have, this ability to make medicine from a person's blood. When my mother and I returned from the Temple it was too late. My father lay dying under a tree around the edges of our home. He had been carving plague warnings into them to keep the jungle people away. His dying act was to order my mother to take me away. He died a solitary death, left to rot in the jungle alone under that tree. My mother slowly went wild from the loss of her mate, leaving me alone in the jungle to protect the Temple when I was barely past the age of a kitling." 

Pain laced Bashta's voice as he told the sad tale of his clan's fate. Tears filled more than one pair of eyes as they listened to him.

Cavel put his arm around Bashta and pulled him back against his chest. He rubbed his back to comfort him. "Bashta led us there and when we found out that his blood was the cure he didn't hesitate to come with us, into a world vastly different from the one he has always known. His blood, as the sole survivor of the plague, is what will cure the kitlings. That he is my mate is a blessing I never anticipated."

"Will this medicine really cure our kitlings?" The same woman who had initially confronted them spoke up again. "Some of them are really sick."

"The Jaguar himself said that this would work. We just have to have patience."

There were murmurs of awe from the crowed, whispers and gasps.

"Patience won't make it easier for my daughter to breathe!" A shrill voice rose from the back of the crowd. A small woman with yellow hair twisted messily at the nape of her neck pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Creased pants and a stained t-shirt were evidence to the long hours she had suffered with her child. 

Several other parents of the sickest kitlings murmured in support. "Nothing we do helps them. The jaguar spirit is worthy of respect but this is a matter of life. What if your cure is too late for my child?"

"I have brought things from my home, herbs and medicines, things that my clan used to help during times of illness."

The woman looked at Bashta with her arms folded defensively across her chest. "You said they died! What good are your cures that do not work?"

"These herbs won't cure the kitlings, no. But they could help them breathe easier and rest more comfortably until the men Cavel took me to can work their magic. I am part of this clan now, though we don't know each other yet. I would do anything, everything in my power, to help protect the innocent. I would never want what happened to my birth clan to be suffered by any of you."

He squeezed Cavel's hand and then moved out from under his arm. He carefully walked over to the distraught mother who stood in front of the watching clan. He held out his hand to her, his shared concern and understanding for her fear and anger Cavel could feel in their bond also shone from his eyes.

"Please let me help your child."

Her tiny nod as tears fell down her face were all he needed. Bashta held out his arms and she leaned against him. 

"Thank you," he said softly.

***

Bashta's nose wrinkled as soon as he walked through the glass doors into the large community center. The smells of illness were overwhelming; stale sweat, vomit, diarrhea were all masked by a thick stink of pervading fear. To the sensitive nose of a transformed Carthera it was all but overwhelming. He could hear piteous whimpers and moans from the stricken kitlings as well as quiet sobs of their watching parents. Pain, in all its forms, was stalking the kitlings of the Jaguar clan.

He flinched when a hand came down on his arm. "Can you handle coming inside?" The same woman who had faced him so intractably was touching him gently, understanding in her eyes. Bashta shook a little but nodded, even as his ears flattened to the sides of his head. He would not fail his mate or his new clan.

Cavel moved up to his other side and handed him his brown bag, brought all the way from the jungle. "Piscel got this from Mackent." Bashta slid it over his head, his hands caressing its soft flexible sides for a moment. 

Taking a shallow breath, he shuddered as he let it out."Take me to the sickest kitlings so I may see what ails them. If you have some way to heat water while I am looking at them I will be able to prepare some teas to help."

"Raselie can take care of that." At her comment another woman that had entered with them turned right and hurried off down a hall, presumably to get that started. Bashta turned to the woman at his side. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Laurell."

"Thank you, Laurell, for helping me," Bashta said gently.

"If you can help our kitlings, save them from..." she trailed off, unable to finish her thought. Her own daughter was one of the sickest kitlings, her fever raging unrelieved for days.

"I will do my best." Cavel reached out for his free hand, squeezing it as he tried to comfort his mate.

Cavel caressed the hand he had captured with his thumb. "That is all anyone could ask," he reminded Bashta.

They started walking again; turning left to go in the opposite direction Raselie had gone. The room they walked into was a large open space with high ceilings taking up the center of the building. 

Laurell cleared her throat, "Usually this room is filled with things like a TV and a few couches, some video game machines, and a foosball table. Now..." 

It was filled with long rows of beds made up on the floor. Some of the small bodies lay on thin mattresses; others lay on makeshift pallets made of blankets. Parents crouched down over their suffering young, sponging their brows, holding hands, whispering words of comfort to soothe the tears the sick kitlings couldn't hold back.

Their faces were lined with grief and worry as they looked up as Bashta's party passed between the rows. The kitlings lying on the floor they were so desperately trying to save were not the only ones being ravaged by the horrible disease. Here and there pregnant women dotted the pallets, the babes their bodies protected suffering in their wombs, the disease poisoning the blood of both mother and unborn child.

Piscel moaned and rushed over to a woman sitting on the floor between two beds, holding the hands of identical twin girls. He dropped to his knees in front of his mate, reaching for her as she reached for him. He rocked her for a moment while the rest of their group paused, looking on discreetly. The girls lying in the beds looked frail, the bones in their faces prominent against their pale skin. Their small bodies were wracked with fevers that made them shiver, even with jackets and blankets piled on top of them.

"Cara, are they...?" He couldn't finish his sentence as he leaned back and looked at each little girl, tears streaming down his face. His hands hovered over their beds as he hesitated to touch them.

"Sleeping. They have the fever but they aren't as bad as some of the others." She wiped at the tears falling down her face with the back of her hand. The other one was buried in Piscel's shirt, holding on so tight her knuckles were white. "They got sick about four days ago, within minutes of each other. I didn't know what to do, nothing helps, none of the medicine we have. I tried everything, I swear I did."

Piscel shushed her, drawing her close to him. She buried her face in his chest and he rocked her, murmuring quietly. "I know you did, I know. Shhhh."

Bashta bent over them, pressing his hand down on Piscel's shoulder. Piscel looked up at him. "I will send some tea good for fevers as soon as I get it made. We will save your kitlings, Piscel."

Piscel looked up at him, tears in his eyes threatening to fall as he blinked rapidly. "Thank you," he whispered. 

Bashta backed up, reaching for Cavel's hand. He really liked Piscel and his pain was palpable. His determination to help the clan was made even stronger as they kept walking, seeing more and more parents sitting over kitlings listless with fever sponging their foreheads or trying to soothe deep wracking coughs in vain.

"The worst cases are here in the back. These families came in first," Laurell said.

"The kitlings that were sick before we left?" Cavel asked.

"Here for the most part. None have died yet but..." she trailed off, gesturing discreetly. Cavel and Bashta could see dark smudges beginning to appear on the naked chest of one little boy who lay in his bed, moaning as he moved restlessly. His wasted hands plucked at the sheet over him. He couldn't have been more than six years old.

Bashta moved among the beds in the back of the room, touching the children, moving their clothes and sheets to feel their chests and look at their stomachs. The parents watched him silently, their eyes dull. They had lost hope that the cure would save their children; the days to wait seeming insurmountable. 

They were just too sick.

His face was very grave as he turned back to Cavel and Laurell. "I need boiling water and also some sort of cream or oil. I have some things that might help."

"Down the other hall is the kitchen. Raselie should have the water boiling by now." Turning, Laurell led them back through the crowded main room filled with the slightly less sick kitlings. Bashta didn't look around again, his mind focused on the herbs and seeds he had in his bag and the main symptoms he had seen. 

***

Cavel's face was set into stoic lines but his eyes flicked from clan member to clan member, the litany of names of each of his sick people running through his brain over and over. His clan would survive as a whole; he was sure of that the antiserum would work. The real question was how many would die before they had it.

Cavel watched as Bashta dumped out his bag on the table. He quickly sorted through the packets and bags, placing them in different piles. Turning to the women watching him, he held out his hands spread apart. "I need a bowl about this big and this deep. Do you have something like that? I'll need some smaller bowls too and cups; things we can put liquid in so the kitlings can drink it." They both began to rummage around in cupboards, stacking all the cups and bowls they could find on the counter. Since the center was often used to keep the kitlings overnight when the parents went on group hunts or runs it was well stocked, fortunately.

Cavel approached Bashta quietly. He was barely holding his panic and pain in, only his amazing self-control keeping him from losing what little calm he had left. He couldn't fall apart; not when his clan was in desperate need of his strength. His mate was calm, working furiously to help his people. He would do no less.

"What can I do?" Cavel asked.

Bashta thought for a moment, biting his bottom lip as he considered what needed to be done first. "I need something, a cloth of some sort, to hold the cacahuatl leaves and other herbs. I also need to shred some clavillia root. Combined, both will make a drink that will help bring down their fevers and soothe their coughs. These medicines are very strong though so we will have to be careful dosing them though and it must be made fresh each time they need it. A cream made from the clavillia leaves and flowers will also help the kitlings developing lesions, maybe slow their spread."

"Well I can shred the root on a cheese grater," Cavel offered. He frowned, and then turned to Raselie, "Do we have any cheesecloth here?"

"I think so. I know we did a project with some a few months ago. Back before... before," Raselie trailed off, tears in her eyes. She was the activity director for the center and all the kitlings loved her when they spent time there. It was just as hard for her to see the kitlings sick as their parents, even though she wasn't mated and had none of her own. As part of the same clan they were very close, the loss of any one would be devastating to all.

"I know, it's okay to cry." Cavel pulled her into his arms for a quick hug. She looked over at Bashta nervously but he just smiled at her gently, reaching over to touch her back for a moment before he turned back to his herbs. Cavel was relieved that Bashta wasn't jealous, though he would have to work on his own issues with others too close to his mate. 

Their kind were very tactile and were reassured best by touch, especially between sub-dominant members and the alphas. Raselie soaked up the comfort her new alpha offered, hiding the tears she had been trying to stop in his chest. She quickly managed to bring herself under control.

Raselie wiped her eyes and stepped back. "Thank you," she said quietly, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I'll look for that cheesecloth. The grater is in the third drawer down." 

"I need to get back to my daughter," Laurell said. "My mate is with her but..."

"Go," Bashta told her gently. He reached out and touched her hand, squeezing it for a moment. "I will bring tea for her as well, just as soon as it is ready."

"Thank you." Laurell turned and left the room, her arms wrapped around her small torso as if she were trying to hold herself together. Bashta watched her, his sadness swamping him. 

Cavel gave him a hug. "You going to be okay?" 

Bashta nodded. "She reminds me of my aunt, a small woman that had often taken care of me and my littermates when our parents had been busy with clan matters. She had died along with everyone else while I was at the Temple with my mother." Bashta paused and Cavel could feel his indecision 

"She felt very hot, Cavel. I will pray that the heat I felt coming from Laurell isn't the fever beginning. The adults in my clan had faded far faster than the kitlings once they got the sickness."

Cavel blanched. 

Working quickly, Raselie, Cavel, and Bashta soon had tea made from the cacahuatl and clavillia as well as a salve of sorts to put on the chests of the kitlings. Raselie took the salve and began to tend to the sickest kitlings, very carefully spreading it on the lesions beginning to mar the small bodies. Cavel followed Bashta with a bag of cups and small bowls while Bashta carried the large bowl with the tea in it. 

Over forty kitlings needed medicine but each one needed to be measured for their size and how sick they were. Bashta could not pass the burden on to anyone else. A cup with the dosage was left for each parent to coax the kitlings into drinking. For each dose, a fresh batch of tea would have to be made every four hours.

It was a daunting task.

Bashta refused to leave the kitlings, working alongside the parents to make them as comfortable as possible. Every few hours he was back in the kitchen area, measuring herbs and grating roots. The day turned into night and he still worked, dark shadows beginning to develop under his eyes. The only rest he had in the past few days had been from the drugs on the plane ride. Cavel tried to help him but his mate needed food and natural sleep.

"Come and eat," Cavel coaxed him as he stood up from the last kitling that needed tea on this latest round. He could tell Bashta wanted to say no but he was too tired to argue. Cavel pulled him into the kitchen area and back to the table he had been using to fix his herbs. He gently sat him into a chair. "You can't go so long without food; it's not good for our kind to be hungry." 




Two of a Kind Ch. 04



He pushed a bowl of stew in front of Bashta who sat looking at it blankly.

"I'll help you." Cavel picked up the spoon, feeling a surge of worry. His mate was very distant, so distant it was almost as if their bond were shut down but he could feel it wide open. Bashta had told him some of how he was feeling, as if all the memories of his clan dying were pressing Bashta down, his fear growing that it would happen again. 

Only this time he would lose his mate as well as the clan he called his own. The fear was all Cavel could feel but he knew that it wasn't the only thing Bashta felt. He just had to break through to him. But first... food.

"Take a bite, Bashta." Cavel slid the spoon into Bashta's mouth, watching him chew mechanically. He held up another bite, carrots and celery as well as beef on this spoonful. Bashta tried to eat it but began to choke and cough as soon as he swallowed. His stomach rebelled and he wasn't able to hold the food down, throwing it up into the sink. 

Bashta opened his mouth to apologize but Cavel shushed him. "No. It is my fault. I know things must be very hard for you now." 

He didn't want to push Bashta into eating if it was going to make him sick but he needed the nutrients. He thought for a moment and then picked up the bowl. In a cupboard over the sink was a strainer and he placed that over a wide mouthed mug. Pouring the stew into the strainer, the meat and vegetables were left inside while the broth went into the mug.

Cavel took the mug and wrapped Bashta's hands around it. "Feel the warmth?" Bashta sighed but his hands tightened around the mug.

Cavel urged him to drink. "Try this; it shouldn't hurt your stomach and the warmth should help your throat."

Bashta took a cautious sip. He sighed a bit and drank some more. Cavel knew he was thirstier than he thought, soon finishing the broth. Cavel refilled the mug with some water and urged him to drink that as well, stroking Bashta's back as he drank. When he put the mug down empty on the table Cavel reached for his hands.

"Let's go lay down. You need to rest."

"But the kitlings..." Bashta began to protest.

"I've set the alarm on my phone. Just three hours of sleep, Bashta. Then we'll get up and make more tea, okay? You can't help the kitlings if you don't rest a little." He drew Bashta to his feet and led him down the hall to a small dark room, the window shades drawn so that the only light came from a small lamp on the bedside table. The double bed was small but they squeezed on it together, cuddling as much for comfort as space.

"I'm sorry," Cavel whispered as he stroked Bashta's hair. "When I thought about finding my mate I always thought that welcoming you to your new home, your new clan, would be a joyous occasion. All we have done is tend the sick. Not an auspicious start to a mating," he said sadly.

"We have our whole lives to enjoy each other and the wonders of your home," Bashta assured him as he rubbed the tips of his fingers over Cavel's face. "Our clan is more important. If easing their pain and suffering is something I can do, then I must give up whatever is demanded of me. Even our time as new mates if that is what price we must pay."

Cavel nodded. "I understand. It is hard being an alpha but someone must lead and make the necessary sacrifices. But when this is all over I want to take you away. I have a place in the mountains, very little in way of comforts, but we will be able to be alone there." He desperately needed that with his mate, their bond pushing him to bring them closer physically but he fought it for Bashta's sake. He needed rest more than he needed anything else and Cavel would give that to him.

Bashta snuggled his face into Cavel's neck. "I'd like that," he sighed.

"Good." Cavel rubbed his cheek on Bashta's head and held him close. "Now go to sleep. I will wake you in a few hours."

The next two days followed the same pattern. Each day Cavel called Dr. Waddel and each day he had to face the hopeful faces of parents watching over their sick kitlings with the same message of 'not yet'. The teas Bashta made helped bring down the kitling's fevers but the lesions on the sickest continued to spread. He frantically tried other herb mixes, creating salves and trying each one, muttering to himself as he went over the impressive array of herbs in his bag. Each evening Cavel had to force him to choke some food down and get some sleep but the stress was beginning to take its toll on both of them.

"Bashta, come eat," Cavel said on late in the evening of the second day. "Raselie made some sandwiches."

Bashta refused to stir from his spot on the floor next to a very small kitling, only three or four years in age. The little girl had blond curls that lay lank on her makeshift pillow. Tears trickled out of her eyes as she fought against the soft bands that held her hands down. She had the lesions and was unable to understand that she couldn't touch them or the oozing fluid that wept from of them. 

Bashta was chanting over her in desperation. He had already spread the strongest batch of salve he could think of over the many black marks that were beginning to spread up her neck and across her beautiful face.

"Bashta, you need to eat."

"I will eat when I am done!" Bashta said, his temper flaring. As he turned, his ears lay against his skull and he glared at Cavel, using his anger to fight the sadness and fear swamping him. "Tell Merilyn that her hurts will be soothed after I have stuffed my stomach if you feel it is so necessary that I eat."

"I am only trying to help, Bashta," Cavel said quietly.

"I do not need help, this kitling does. She is... I can't..." Bashta broke down and turned his face away, looking at a spot on the wall as he bit his lip until blood dripped onto his chin. Cavel reached down and picked him up, his face alarmed at how light Bashta had grown after just a few days. The little girl's father stood to one side, tears streaming down his face. 

Cavel could feel his fear. They all waited on the phone call from the doctors saying they were sending the antiserum they hoped would cure the kitlings but even that hope was fading fast for Merilyn's parents. She was the worst of all the kitlings, her small body overwhelmed with the sickness. Her immune system had already been weakened by a condition she developed at birth that hurt her lungs and her ability to heal.

"I'm sorry," Cavel murmured. He had tears in his eyes.

"No, My Lord. I understand. Your mate has done all that he can do for our Merilyn." He knelt down, his mate on the other side of the small pallet, their hands gently touching her, trying to soothe her as best they were able.

Cavel carried his distraught mate out a back door, the evening air beginning to grow chilly as the light faded into twilight. He sat under a tree, cradling Bashta in his arms. He stroked his back as Bashta's hot tears wet the shoulder of his shirt as they cried together. After a while, Bashta struggled to sit up.

"Why?" he cried, "Why did the Jaguar send me here to watch this clan die just as mine did? Why can't I save them? I was sent here to save them and I am doing nothing! They're just babies, kitlings. They don't deserve this!" he sobbed.

"Stop this." Cavel grabbed Bashta's face between his hands. "You are not doing nothing. You have been working tirelessly, doing the best you can. Many of them would be much worse off if you hadn't been here. I know the antiserum will work; we just have to give the doctors time. The Jaguar would not have sent us back with false hopes."

"They don't have time! Merilyn is dying now!" Bashta collapsed back against Cavel's chest, shaking as he sobbed. Cavel could feel his despair and anguish through their bond as he broke down and cried his pain for the suffering he watched that didn't spare his clan and for the kitlings dying again. Tears fell onto Bashta's dark head as Cavel cried with him.

"Cavel!" Saulle came running out of the back door of the community center. "Dr. Waddel is on the phone." He was panting with his mouth open, looking at Bashta and Cavel anxiously.

"Did he say anything?" Bashta scrambled off Cavel's lap and they both began hurrying toward the community center.

"No, I uh... I didn't wait to find out." Saulle flushed. "I just dropped the phone and ran to find you."

Cavel snorted and shook his head; Bashta smacked his arm. "Stop it. He's under a lot of strain too." 

Saulle's wife was one of the pregnant women who were sick and their kitling Ariella lay beside her, coughing and running a fever. Cavel had sat with Saulle a lot over the last few days when his parents went back home to rest. He refused to leave his mate and daughter, afraid they would slip away if he did. He only slept when his body forced him to. Even then he would lie down between them with a hand on each of them, reassured by their breathing, waking every time they coughed or moaned. 

The strain was showing on his face and the rumpled clothes he'd yet to change from since they'd been back. Rubbing his arm, Cavel frowned but looked over at Saulle. "Sorry," he muttered. 

They were all trying desperately not to jump to conclusions about why the doctor was calling. They could have the antiserum ready or it could have been a complete failure. Almost as disastrous would be the need for more time. 

They were just about out of time.

"Yes Doctor." Cavel stood by the phone, his back rigid. His hand clenched spasmodically as he listened intently. "We'll be back with what you need as soon as possible. Have the clinic ready." Cavel hung up the phone and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is it... Did they?" Saulle couldn't finish his question. Many of the adult clan members had gathered by the door, the whispered message that the doctor called had made its way quickly through the center.

"They have an anti-serum they think will work. But they need someone to test it on. They don't know if it will help or hurt, or just do nothing at all." Hearing the clan members instantly begin talking to each other, Cavel turned and saw the crowd at the door. "It's a risk. This cure could end up killing the kitling we take."

"They are already dying! All we can do right now is make them more comfortable as they waste away," one of the fathers said in a broken voice. 

"Even with the medicine your mate gives them they grow weaker and weaker." Shawnel looked down at his mate, holding her as she cried. "Merilyn will die, maybe within hours, if we do nothing. Take her, see if this serum can help her."

Turning her head to look at them, Arenna added her pleas to her mate's. "This is the only chance she has. Don't let Merilyn die for your fear of what might happen. Watching her die without being able to at least try to save her is the worst thing we have ever faced. You can do something; you can take her to the clinic." Her hands were clenched into fists. "Take her. Please."

Bashta's own feelings surged through their bond. He wanted to help them, needed to help them. Cavel was shaking. "I can't take you, either of you. If she dies--"

Merilyn's mother interrupted him, "Then she dies with those who care for her just as much as we do. Your mate has enough love in him for all our kitlings. We have seen it. I trust you, and him, with her life."

Cavel couldn't speak, he could only nod. He turned into Bashta's arms and buried his head in his neck. He was overwhelmed by the needs of his people, by their fierce hope and loyalty despite their almost overwhelming fear. That they would trust him meant more than any show of submission ever had. 

Bashta held him, just as Cavel had supported him earlier. Cavel had vowed to do whatever it would take to save his clan. Together, they would find out if their journey and trials had been in vain. He took a deep breath and then lifted his head.

"We will leave as soon as she is ready."

***

Saulle waited until Bashta had his harness on before he handed the pathetically small bundle of blankets over. Cradling her body close to his chest Bashta nodded at Saulle. Cavel was already flicking the numerous switches and pushing the buttons necessary to get the helicopter started. Once he composed himself he had sped their journey as fast as possible. It was a good thing Katrelen had brought the helicopter back that afternoon.

Cavel wasn't being unsafe but he was wasting no time. Saulle had barely backed away after closing Bashta's door before Cavel began to pull the controls and send the helicopter into the air. Bashta felt a bit nervous but most of his attention was focused on the very sick little girl he held tenderly in his lap. It helped that Cavel's iron determination flooded their bond.

Bashta could almost hear his thoughts, his determination to save the little girl and their whole clan by the flood of fierce concentration on Cavel's face. If there was any way that Cavel could will the antiserum to cure Merilyn, he would. Bashta held the hot, listless body closer. Merilyn's fever had risen dangerously high and she was wracked with chills. Her face was now covered in the black lesions but she was too weak to scratch at them anymore.

Every breath she took was a struggle through the congestion in her lungs. Bashta prayed that she would make it long enough for them to reach the doctors and their medicine. Even with it she might not survive, not unless they got a miracle. Some of the machines he had seen in the clinic when they drew his blood had to be able to help her. This science Cavel was so excited about had to have more uses than boiling water very quickly.

As soon as they began to descend Bashta could see a car at the end of the runway. The white coat beside the car surprised him. When they got closer he could see that it was Dr. Pennelst standing in a pool of light from the hanger floodlight. When Cavel turned off the engine he rushed over to them, opening Bashta's door and holding out his arms for the small kitling. Bashta's arms tightened on her protectively.

"Bashta, let the doctor have her. He can help her." Cavel reached over and caressed his shoulder. Without the anti-serum... It was hard to let the little girl go, he understood that but there was nothing more Bashta could do for her. "You kept her alive until they could finish their work. He brought a dose of the antiserum with him. He can give it to her right now and then monitor her while we drive to the clinic. She's almost gone, Bashta. We have to let him do his job."

Bashta bowed his head and then reached down, gently passing Merilyn's small body into the doctor's arms. His large dark eyes were shiny.

"Please save her," he whispered.

Dr. Pennelst nodded gravely. "I'll do my very best." He hurried back to his car, carefully using one arm to open one of the back doors. Bending down he placed Merilyn gently onto the wide back seat. Using the stethoscope around his neck he checked her heart and then watched her breathe, small wheezes each time her small chest rose. 

Putting the stethoscope back around his neck he reached through the front seats and picked up a small black case. Unzipping it, he pulled out a small vial and a syringe. He looked at the little girl and hesitated, biting his lip as he slid on a pair of blue gloves.

"What's wrong?" Bashta asked anxiously.

Dr. Pennelst shook his head. "Nothing is wrong. I'm just trying to determine how much to give her. We need to give her a large enough dose to provide immunity but not hurt her. Too much is just as dangerous as not enough."

Cavel put his hand on the doctor's arm, stopping him from inserting the syringe into the vial. "What do you mean too much can hurt her? You don't know how much to use?" His voice was rising in his agitation.

"No. This is a brand new medication to treat a disease we've never seen before. Normally this would be researched and tested for months, years even, before it was ever used on a person. Your clan can not afford that. This is the only way we can save them." Dr. Pennelst looked up at Cavel. 

"I understand your fear for her, we worry that the cure might be worse than the disease but this is her only chance, a slim one that is the only option left for her. I can't take the time to test for reactions; I have to give her a full dose now. Let me try to cure her. I am very good at what I do, and what I do is understand the puzzles of the human body better than anyone else. It helps me make medicines that no one else can make."

Bashta watched in silence as Cavel stepped back, letting go of the doctor. He leaned over and put his arms around Cavel's chest, both of them watching silently as the doctor carefully extracted half a syringe full of the clear fluid and then removed the air. Putting it down he picked up a sterile kit and pulled out an IV needle. He carefully pulled back the blanket and exposed one thin arm. As he swabbed the area Cavel looked away but Bashta watched intently as the slender silver needle dimpled the skin and then broke through. Dr. Pennelst quickly tore off a strip of tape and secured the IV to the wasted hand.

"She is going to need fluids and other medications that would be most effective if delivered through an IV so we are going to leave this one in." He hooked up the thin tube coming out of a clear bag hanging on the garment hook. He carefully picked up the prepared needle with the antiserum and opened the second port on the IV tube. The doctor paused, briefly closing his eyes before he pushed down the plunger, making Merilyn whimper as the cold fluid was forced through the IV.

He quickly tossed the needle into a portable sharp container and removed his gloves. "That's it," he said, zipping up the case. "One of you needs to stay back here with her. We need to get to the clinic as soon as possible. I'll drive."

Without saying a word Bashta slid in the open door, quickly re-wrapping the blanket around the shivering kitling and pulling her into his arms. He looked up, his eyes showing his need for Cavel's support as he watched over her. Cavel just nodded before he slid in beside them; they would both stay with her. Wasting no time, Dr. Pennelst drove them to the clinic, running as many yellow lights as he safely could.

***

Bashta held in his sneezes, not wanting to jostle Merilyn where she lay cradled in his arms as they hurried through the clinic corridors. Going down a different hall than before, Dr. Waddel ushered them into a colorful room with jungle scenes painted on the walls. There was a small bed made up with a purple blanket in the center of the far wall. Bashta headed toward it as the doctors moved around and got various equipment ready. 

Bashta carefully laid Merilyn down in the bed, easing her head on to the pillow and smoothing her hair away from her face. Her forehead was hot and her face was flushed under the black sores.

"It doesn't look like she is getting any better," Cavel said in a worried voice. His teeth came down to gnaw on his bottom lip.

"The medicine will take time to work. Actually the lack of response is a good thing. Her body hasn't had an adverse reaction so far which is what we were far more concerned with." Dr. Waddel looked very serious. "I'm a little surprised she's still alive as sick as she is, to tell you the truth. We'll get her on the monitors and start running a few tests in an hour. I'm hoping we will have some preliminary results within two hours or so after that. If she starts getting better you will still have to leave her here. Her body was on the verge of completely shutting down and her recovery could still be touch and go.

"If you agree, Dr. Pennelst can stay here with her and create more antiserum while I go with you back to your clan. We have enough to treat the sickest of your kitlings and can have enough ready for the rest in a few days. Once the kitlings are safe we can work on inoculating the adults before they get sick too." Dr. Waddel waited for Cavel's nod before he joined Dr. Pennelst in hooking up monitors and tubes to the small child lying deathly still on the white sheets under the purple blanket.




Two of a Kind Ch. 04



Bashta worked his shoulders, his hands flexing as the white tips of his claws slid in and out of his fingers. The beeping of the machines worked on his nerves. He had a goal earlier and was able to overcome his fear and unease about the modern machinery around him. Now that Merilyn was out of his hands he didn't know what to do with himself. A soft whine in his throat got Cavel's attention.

Cavel's scent surrounded him as his arms wrapped around him. He whimpered again as he shuddered. Bashta turned, sliding his arms around Cavel's waist and burying his face against the strong neck of his mate. Cavel soothed him, rubbing his hands up and down Bashta's back.

Bashta's lips moved almost silently against the skin of his neck. "What if she dies?" he whispered.

"She won't."

"How do you know?"

Cavel's hands slid up Bashta's neck as he leaned back. He stared at Bashta's beautiful eyes that were so full of pain. "Because you're here. The Jaguar wouldn't have sent you to me if the kitlings were going to die anyway. Without you, Merilyn wouldn't have made it to today, much less received the antiserum the doctors could only make from your blood." His thumbs caressed the lean cheeks, wiping away the few tears that slipped from Bashta's eyes.

"She'll be okay," he said softly.

"I don't know if I can believe that right now. I'm afraid this won't work." More tears fell as Bashta nuzzled his cheek into Cavel's warm hands.

"I know. It's okay to be afraid but we have to believe. We have to trust that the Jaguar would not have brought us together if there was no hope. The antiserum will work, the kitlings will recover, and we will put this plague behind us. Then we will be together; I'll take you home and we won't leave our bed for a week." 

That made Bashta give him a weak smile. 

Cavel smiled back and then kissed him gently. "We just have to trust."

"I trust you. I just keep picturing how my siblings must have laid in their beds, just like Merilyn is now, while I was being cured at the Temple. Except no one could save them, there were no magical cures or shiny machines. Why? Why did this happen to my family and your clan? Why was I the only one spared?"

Cavel hugged Bashta to him. "I don't know, no one does. Maybe the spirits but they don't share their wisdom very often. I'm sorry your clan wasn't saved. I know it's not fair that they didn't have the same chance Merilyn has, that you had. I know how you must feel; the pain you have to feel that our clan will survive while your family had to die."

Bashta shook his head violently. "No, I don't begrudge the chance we have to save your clan. I really don't."

"I know, I know," Cavel soothed. "You just wish..."

"Yeah." Bashta nodded his head. He drew in a deep breath and looked up. "But now I have another chance. A new family and a new home."

Cavel smiled at him. "Yes you do. A new clan to help take the sadness from the one you lost. We will never replace them but our people love and trust you already. Just as I love and trust you."

"I love you too."

***

Saulle led the throng of clan that rushed out of the community center to surround the jeep. They stood silently watching as two men got out. Merilyn's mother and father were surrounded by their friends and family, the smell of fear flooding the air. They rushed up to Cavel, looking at him fearfully in the predawn light. Shadows of the pain they had endured were stretched across their faces as they felt their grasp fail on their last thread of hope.

"Where is my daughter? Why didn't you bring her back, she's dead, isn't she? Where is my Merilyn?" Completely panicked, Merilyn's mother fell into Cavel's arms as she struggled to get to the car behind him. Cavel's head bent down to slowly whisper in her ear, her renewed sobs shattering the stillness as everyone watched silently.

Cavel reached out and put his hand on Shawnel's arm and squeezed. The sympathy on his face made the man blanch. The doctor stood to one side by the car, his face impassive as he held his black medical bag.

"Oh god, no!" Shawnel fell to his knees. "She died!"

"No!" Cavel passed the sobbing woman to Saulle. He was Arenna's brother and Merilyn's rapid descent toward death had pained him as much as watching his own wife and kitling slowly get sicker. Saulle held her close to him and hugged her.

There faint beginnings of hope on his face. 

Cavel dropped to his knees beside Shawnel and gripped his shoulders, making him look up and into his eyes. "She's alive!" 

Shawnel stared at him, his eyes not seeing him as his mind teetered on a total shut down. Cavel shook him a little. "I swear to you, she's alive and was getting better even as we left."

"She's alive?" Shawnel's breath came in small pants as he struggled to control himself. "She... she's not, she didn't..." His arms came up and latched onto to Cavel's shoulders, his claws tearing his shirt and piercing Cavel's skin in his shock and relief.

"Your daughter is still very sick," Dr. Waddel told the stunned couple, "but she should recover in time. Dr. Pennelst has stayed with her to keep an eye on her recovery and create more antiserum. I trust him implicitly."

Arenna looked over at Cavel from her spot in Saulle's arms. "Where is your mate?" she asked. "We have to thank him for saving our daughter."

"He stayed with Merilyn. He wouldn't leave her alone, not until you could come be with her. He is very... attached to her."

"He is a good man and he will be a great mate for you," Saulle said. "I am glad you didn't listen to me." Cavel looked at him gratefully, nodding over the heads of stunned parents. Their grieving was cautiously turning to hope that what Cavel and the doctor said was true. Saulle helped his sister over to her mate. Shawnel managed to let Cavel go as he stood to gather her in his arms.

"Can we go be with her?"

"Yes," Dr. Waddel said. "The clinic is set up to house parents of the younglings we treat. I understand how much touch affects Carthera patients. Merilyn won't be miraculously healed but I know she wants you."

Arenna gasped. "She spoke?"

Merilyn had stopped speaking before Bashta and Cavel made it home, her happy giggles reduced to pained whimpers and cries. Arenna had given up ever hearing her precious voice again. Shawnel looked to Cavel who smiled at him and nodded.

"She asked for you," Cavel said with a soft smile, "and for her lovey."

Shawnel's wife began sobbing again, her hands clenched in her mate's shirt. He stroked her back and rubbed her neck. "She asked for us, Arenna. She's going to be okay. You don't have to be afraid anymore, Bashta did it. They saved her." Arenna nodded her head, still unable to speak.

"Sometimes a mother has to see for herself," Saulle said gently. "Katrelen can fly you to the clinic."

"And bring Bashta back," Cavel said, missing his mate by his side. 

They had only been bonded for a week but it felt as if it had been years. Already he relied on Bashta's presence. Turning to him for advice, comfort, companionship had become essential to Cavel. Without him it was as if the entire side of his body felt cold and the place in his mind where he usually heard Bashta echoed uncomfortably.

Faintly, he felt love come through their bond. Stretched thin as it was, the fact that Bashta felt him and sought to reassure him hammered home the love he had found and how miserable he had been without it.

"Bring him back as soon as you can," Cavel ordered Katrelen in his firmest alpha voice. He was ready to heal his people and put this tragic time behind him, though they still had many questions left to answer.

Still, finding his mate was a source of joy to his soul, even with the traumatic beginning his mating had endured. He was ready for that alone time he had promised Bashta but first he needed his mate.

Saulle smiled and chuckled at Cavel's eagerness. "You heard your alpha."



Two of a Kind Ch. 05



"I was able to treat about twenty of the sickest kitlings and pregnant women." Dr. Waddel was washing his hands at the sink in the kitchen. He dried them and turned to Bashta and Cavel who stood silently watching him, waiting for his next words.

"I think we got here in time," he said.

Cavel's eyes closed as he slumped against Bashta. Holding his mate, Bashta said a quiet prayer of thanks to the Jaguar, for his wisdom and his kindness in guiding them to a cure in time. They had done all they could do, now they just had to let the antiserum work.

"How long until they are well?" Bashta asked.

"That will depend on each patient. The sickest should actually get better the fastest. Their bodies won't fight the antiserum so it will disperse through their bodies the fastest." Dr. Waddel pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, resting his elbows on the scarred surface. "That doesn't mean that they won't still need careful care. Their immune systems are weak--"

Cavel interrupted him in protest, "Our immune systems are very strong!"

"Normally yes, they are. These patients, however, have been ill for weeks. Their bodies were slowly shutting down and while we can halt the progress and spread of this disease they will have to recover their strength. That will take time, rest, and plenty of good food.

"I know your kind is hardy. If humans could get this plague it would spread like wildfire through the towns and cities until there was no one left. It is peculiar that it affects only your clan of Jaguars," The doctor spoke slowly, musing aloud as he considered the strange course of the disease. Bashta urged the doctor to take a cup of tea before he and Cavel sat down at the table with him. He wrapped his hands around the mug and focused on Cavel. 

"We don't understand this plague at all, we were very lucky you found Bashta here and we were able to make a working antiserum in time."

Cavel looked over at Bashta, tightening the grip he had on his hand under the table. "Yes, we were. My clan has gained an invaluable treasure in my mate."

Dr. Waddel beamed at him. "In all that has been going on I didn't congratulate you," he said. "I know your father would be very happy you found your mate. He would be proud of the way you have led your clan as well."

Cavel bowed his head a little to the older man, a pleased smile on his face. "That means a lot to me. I know you and he were good friends when he led our clan."

Dr. Waddel laughed. "Since before that actually. Your father was one of the first Carthera to integrate into my school. He was always getting into trouble, starting fights and stuff."

Cavel's eyes widened. "He didn't!"

"Oh yes he did." The doctor smirked, sitting back in his chair. "One day he was in the bathroom trying to reach a large splinter of wood in his back after a tussle in the bleachers with the school phobics. I was in there washing my hands and offered to help. I pulled it out and helped him clean up. It became a habit; he got into fights when he refused to back down or avoid the phobics and I took care of the damage before his mother saw him."

"Is that why you went into medicine and specialized in treating Carthera?" Bashta asked. He was curious about the doctor, his medicine, and machines that worked so much better than Bashta's own knowledge of herbal medicine.

"Yes. I was fascinated by your culture and the way you guys heal. The school nurse wouldn't even touch the non-human students. My dad was a doctor; I think I always wanted to be one. He used to sometimes secretly treat the Carthera who came to him that couldn't be healed by their own medics. He always told me that pain hurts everyone the same. I wanted to help like he did, but openly."

"Those are the attitudes that helped the integration continue. But I bet my dad gave you more than enough opportunities to fix him up after fights before he left high school to get a good idea of our physiology," Cavel joked, making the doctor smile.

"That he did, that he did."

"Is it still like that?" Bashta asked. His eyes were wide and he was looking between Cavel and Dr. Waddel.

"Not really," Cavel assured him. "There will always be some people who are bigots, who think they are better than the Carthera because we are different. Carthera have been integrated into the human population for about fifty years now. Some things are still rocky but for the most part the humans treat the clans pretty much equal."

Dr. Waddel nodded. "The hospitals and medical profession in general are both a little behind still. Most doctors who treat Carthera patients aren't officially trained. It's more an... apprenticeship. Your bodies are similar enough to human and yet with enough animal traits that most doctors the clans will trust become a cross between a traditional doctor and, well..." he ducked his head a little, "a vet."

Cavel's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not saying you guys are animals. But your clan traits are very animal like. For instance, the bones of the Falcon clans are lighter and thinner than a human's which make treating breaks trickier. Some of the snake clans have fangs with actual poison sacks which produce venom. Imagine one of those guys with a toothache."

Bashta's eyes were wide. Cavel looked intrigued. "I didn't know that."

"I treat more than the Jaguar clan. Sometimes traveling clan members come through and need help. I've seen a lot in my days as a doctor."

"Have you ever seen anything like this plague before?" Bashta asked.

"No, fortunately I haven't." The doctor sighed, "Though, because no one had seen it before I was useless. I couldn't do anything to help the kitlings until you came." Dr. Waddel looked at Bashta's obviously healthy body then looked at his eyes, seeing more sorrow and experience than the youthful countenance suggested. "Your entire clan died from this?"

Bashta face took on a haunted look, and he slowly nodded. "They did."

"Were the symptoms the same?"

Bashta rubbed his hands together nervously, his claws peeking out of his fingertips. "I think so. I was young and wasn't really paying attention. I remember Pamca and Lesner, my two best friends, were sick a few days before my mother took me to the Temple. Their mother kept bathing them in the river and they sounded funny when they breathed; like they had water in their chests, just like the kitlings in there." Bashta looked down the hall toward the main room.

"But we didn't see the lesions until we got back. My father knew we would be returning from the Temple. As he carved the plague warnings around the village he made sure that he was visible from a good distance away on that path. He ordered us to leave them and my mother took me in her arms to keep me from going to him. I fought her to get to my litter mates and friends who had already died from this horrible curse but it wouldn't have done any good. My father died before our eyes and he was the last of our clan left alive."

"What happened to your mother?"

Tears filled Bashta's eyes but he blinked over and over, refusing to let them fall. "She left."

He didn't say anything more, he couldn't. He wasn't angry at her anymore, he understood now. He couldn't imagine going on if something were to happen to Cavel. She had made sure he would be safe and then followed the instincts of their kind. If anything he was mad at himself, at the way he had thought about her for so long.

"I hate to ask you these questions, I'm sure it's not easy to go back to that time in your mind but it could help us figure out what happened to the kitlings here."

"She didn't get sick either. She just... couldn't take being without her mate any longer. She went feral." He lost the battle and a few tears trickled down his cheeks. Cavel pushed his chair back from the table and offered his open arms to Bashta. He quickly moved over into Cavel's warm embrace, rubbing his cheek on Cavel's soft t-shirt as he was soothed by the gentle vibration of his rumbling murmurs of comfort.

"I would guess that she was in the pool with Bashta when she did the ceremonies to purify him and heal him from the fever and infection in his wound. If she had it, she probably was healed at the same time and never even knew she was sick. Curing the plague was just... a side effect." Cavel ran his fingers through Bashta's thick hair, comforting him.

The doctor considered that. "I would guess the plague acted much faster in the jungle than it did here. The environment down there would be ideal for the production of a sickness like this; they always spread faster in hot, moist climates."

Bashta turned to look at him but stayed in the comfort of Cavel's arms. "It did. From what I've figured the sickness took many weeks to spread here when it took maybe one, at the most, in my village. I'm not sure why but I was young, there were a lot of details I missed about what was going around me."

"Do you know how it started?" The doctor leaned forward, very interested in the answer to this question. If they knew how it started and how it spread they could have some idea of how to fight it.

"No." Bashta's eyes widened. "I never thought of that! Our clans are half a world apart and the plague hit my village many years ago. How did it get here?" Bashta turned to look up at Cavel in confusion.

"We don't know that either. Most sicknesses are spread by contact with the germs from an infected person or by touching something a sick person came in contact with a lot. We can't figure out how it happened here or where it started. Several kitlings seemed to come down with the sickness around the same time and it quickly spread to the rest of them."

"The kitlings were already sick before we met and I'm the only one left from my clan. They couldn't have gotten it that way," Bashta mused. "Have you heard reports of anyone else getting sick?"

Cavel and the doctor shook their heads. "I alerted all the hospitals and clinics that treat Carthera to the symptoms and asked them to contact me if they had seen anything like it. Dr. Pennelst also contacted them when we got the antiserum model working. Still no reports of anyone else suffering from this but if they do, we have spread the word that there is a cure."

Cavel brushed his hand up and down Bashta's back. He leaned into the caress as he pursed his lips, thinking hard. "You said they could have gotten it from something a sick person touched?"

Cavel nodded.

Bashta's face paled. "What if," he paused, "what if that happened?"

"How? No one in my clan has ever been to the jungle before the wise woman sent us to find you."

"No," he whispered, "but what if someone brought something here?"

***

They began questioning all the kitling's parents right away. The first one Cavel called was Saulle. He had no answers for the alpha but he added his assistance to the investigation once he knew what Cavel was asking for. After the first few parents knew nothing the doctor shook his head.

"I'm no help here, really. I'll do better to return to the clinic and help Dr. Pennelst make more antiserum while you continue to question the rest of the kitling's parents."

Cavel nodded. The three of them were enough and word was already spreading through the clan. If there was something spreading the sickness, they would find it.

"You can ask Merilyn's parents the same things we are asking the others here and then call us," Bashta suggested.

"I will." Dr. Waddel gathered up his bag and headed back to the plane.

The feelings of relief that came with the antiserum, that the worst was over, soon wore off. The mood of the clan was strained as they gathered in their family groups. The alpha's questions reminded them that they still had no idea how or why this happened. Even if their kitlings got better who was to say something else couldn't happen later? What if a new sickness struck? Everyone began discussing the situation, desperately trying to find how the sickness started in hopes that would provide some answers.

Cavel sank onto the couch later that night with a frustrated sigh, his hand running through his hair and tangling it. Merilyn's parents had no insights for them either. Bashta sat down on his lap facing him and pulled his hands down. He held them to his hips and then ran his hands up Cavel's arms to cradle his face.

"You have to stay calm. I can feel your stress and so can our clan. They take their cues from you, from us, and if we don't hold it together it will be much harder for them to remain in control. We need to know where the plague came from, yes, but do not take away the hope they finally feel that this will soon be over."

"But it won't be! Don't you see? How can I keep them safe if I don't know how?" Cavel almost wailed. He was tense, his shoulders beneath Bashta's hands knotted as his hands clenched into fists.

"You need to take a break." Bashta's strong hands began kneading the tight muscles. They didn't soften at all. "Take me to your home?" he asked quietly.

Cavel blinked. With everything going on they hadn't left the community center since they'd returned from the jungle. Bashta was right; there wasn't anything else they could do that night. Instead he could begin to show his mate what life was going to be like together. His hands unclenched and began to knead Bashta's hips in return. He took a deep breath.

"I'd love to show you our home."

***

The drive to the house from the community center took almost half an hour. Cavel didn't live in town like Bashta thought he would.

"Why don't you live closer to the clan?" Bashta asked as they turned down a gravel road. Trees lined the sides of the single lane and hid the moon from sight.

"I have an office downtown; sometimes I stay there on the pull-out couch. But mostly... I just need a place to be me, Cavel, without having to be alpha. If I was always surrounded by the clan I would never get that."

"Do you resent it? Being the alpha of such a large clan at your age?"

Cavel considered how to reply to that, he didn't want Bashta to think that he wasn't happy with his role in life or that he resented taking care of the clan, as if they were just a burden. "No. Not like that."

His hands rubbed the steering wheel as he spoke quietly. "I love our people; the clan is a source of pride and comfort. But being the leader, the one who makes the final decisions, is a hard job sometimes. You can't make everyone happy all the time and you get pulled in a lot of directions. Having a space to myself, room to just relax without any of that pressure makes me a better alpha."

Bashta thought about that for a minute and then nodded. "My clan was much smaller and all of our ways were rooted in tradition and duty. Without all the technology and choices you have here it was a much slower, simpler way to live."

"Harder in a lot of ways, I'm sure." Cavel grimaced. "I mean, no microwaves? I'd have starved!" 

Bashta laughed.

"Yes, I do find those much better than cooking over the fire. But I think I see what you mean about needing space to just be yourself without having to live up to someone else's expectations all the time."

"Not to mention now I get to be there with you," Cavel said with a smile. He reached over and laced the fingers of his free hand with Bashta's. He lifted their joined hands and pointed out the windshield. "There it is."

Bashta sucked in a breath as the house came into sight. It was two stories with a sharply peaked roof and a large front porch with a swing. The colors were washed out in the darkness but the landscape was dotted with flowers and shrubs including some vines with night blooming flowers climbing a trellis to one side. Behind the house was the real reason that Cavel had built there. Beyond the tall trees that stood behind the house was the mountain peak bathed in cool moonlight. Clouds hovered over the summit, hiding the tip from them but the beauty of the sight filled him with a sense of serenity.

Bashta just sat drinking in the view, not moving as Cavel brought the car to a stop in the driveway and turned off the jeep. It wasn't until Cavel opened his door for him that Bashta managed to pull his eyes away. The expression on his face was dazed and Cavel chuckled.

"Like it?" he asked, waving his hand toward the house and the view.

"I love it," Bashta said. "It's so beautiful. I've never really seen mountains before, not like this."

"You'll love the bedroom then." Cavel smiled in anticipation.

"Oh I will, will I?"

"Mmhmm," Cavel murmured as Bashta pulled his head closer for a kiss. It was slow and sensual and when Bashta pulled away it made him groan. "What was that for?"

"For being you. For loving me. For being my mate."

"Always."

They moved together this time, Cavel's arms around Bashta's slim waist pulling him into his body. They kissed again, this one harder and full of a promise of the passion that had been put aside for days.

"Hmm." Cavel pulled back this time. "I think we need to stop or I won't show you anything of your new home but the bedroom."

"I've the rest of my life to see the rest of the house. Show me the bedroom," Bashta said heatedly.

"But..." Cavel moaned and his head fell back as Bashta began to gently nip and suck at his sensitive neck while he caressed his sides and moved up to tweak his taut nipples. "Oh gods, do that again."

"Inside," Bashta murmured against his neck, "bedroom."

Cavel didn't argue anymore, grabbing Bashta's hand and towing him toward the house. He opened the unlocked front door and pounded up the stairs. Bashta was towed helplessly behind him, laughing a little at his mate's eagerness. The stairs ended at a landing with a hallway leading to the left and right. Cavel turned to the left and went for the far door.

The room he led Bashta into was big, large enough that the king size bed along one wall didn't dominate the room. In the back wall were two large french doors that led out to a balcony. Cavel dropped Bashta's hand and walked over to the doors to open them. Bashta followed him. Looking out, he was again speechless, the mountain seemed just a little closer, a little bigger, and more majestic from the balcony. As far as Bashta could see were trees and hills spreading from the base toward the house.

"I promised you plenty of room to roam around, didn't I?" Cavel pulled Bashta back against his chest, cradling him and rubbing his stomach through his shirt. Bashta leaned into him, tilting his head to kiss Cavel on the cheek.

"You did. Is this all yours?" He gestured toward the mountain with one hand.

"No, not just mine. It's the clan's land really and we only own halfway to the mountain. The rest is state land, protected forest and mountain habitats. It's really wild; the visitor center and most of the human trails are on the other side, it has an easier slope. When the clan hunts we rarely encounter anyone else."

"It's amazing."

"Not as amazing as you," Cavel said, nuzzling Bashta's cheek. His tongue flicked out to get Bashta's scent, sliding upward in a slow taste from his neck to his sensitive ear. Cavel latched on and sucked gently. His arms tightened when Bashta went limp at the pleasure. That small caress brought back all the simmering tension they had at the jeep and doubled it. Bashta tried to turn around and Cavel's arms tightened further.

"I want to touch you," Bashta complained. His hands plucked at the iron bands Cavel's arms had become.

"Hmm, but I'm having fun touching you," Cavel said throatily. His actions clearly said he was turning the tables on his bossy mate.

Bashta gasped when he felt Cavel's hands move under his shirt and touch bare skin. He held his breath as the tickling fingers moved over the muscles of his stomach that bunched and rippled. They inched toward his chest; anticipation building as Cavel moved to return the caress that had made him so crazy earlier. Bashta's breath exploded from him when Cavel firmly tweaked both nipples. 




Two of a Kind Ch. 05



He pulled and tugged until he got Bashta's shirt off then went back to rubbing and plucking at his nipples and nibbling on his neck until Bashta's knees buckled.

Bashta felt Cavel support his body but he was unable to stand. The sensations coursing through his body had turned his knees to jelly. His hands now clung to Cavel's arms instead of trying to loosen them. He could feel Cavel's pleased rumble at his back. He gasped when Cavel swung him up into his arms and quickly walked a few steps over to the bed.

He didn't expect him to drop him onto it and almost squeaked in surprise. His eyes wide, Bashta stared up at Cavel standing over him. Cavel stripped his shirt off and then leaned down and put one hand on the bed and then one knee. He stared intently at Bashta who began to inch away on the bed until he ran out of room to move backward. 

Cavel began prowling up his legs on his hands and knees until Bashta was pinned against the headboard. Bashta licked his lips nervously.

"I love your mouth," Cavel growled. "Your lips are so soft and full and I've been imagining what they would look like wrapped around me as I slowly slide into your warm mouth. He ground his body against Bashta's who whimpered as the image flashed through his mind of Cavel doing just that. He shuddered as Cavel watched him.

"Undo my pants," he groaned.

Bashta looked up at him, his eyes startled. "What?"

"Open them." Cavel rose up on his knees until his impressive bulge was right in front of Bashta's face. His hands trembled as he slowly lifted them and popped the button on Cavel's jeans. He licked his lips again as he lowered the zipper and Cavel's hips thrust forward slightly as he watched. "Pull them down."

Bashta tugged until they got stuck mid-thigh.

"Now my underwear." Bashta hooked his fingers into the top of the black boxer briefs and pulled them down. Cavel groaned, feeling the warm breath from Bashta's mouth just inches away. Bashta looked up at him, his eyes wide. Cavel pushed his hips forward just a little. "Lick it."

That pink tongue came out again and this time swiped across the wide head in front of him. Bashta hummed at the feeling of soft skin and tangy precum. He did it again, this time swirling his tongue in a circle. Pleased with the way Cavel's breathing increased he did it again, laving the entire head with his tongue then flicking it with the tip. 

The feedback of Cavel's pleasure made his cock throb too.

Cavel was panting and Bashta could feel how he struggled for control. "Suck it in."

Bashta looked up at him and then back down. He opened those pink lips Cavel had been admiring and engulfed the entire head in his mouth, moving his tongue along the bottom. Tightening his lips around the shaft, he began to slide down until the head hit the back of throat and he gagged. 

Cavel grunted. "Don't take too much, just go slow."

Bashta pulled back and began stroking the first few inches with his mouth, using his tongue on the bottom to press and stroke the firm shaft. Cavel was beginning to groan faintly, leaning with his arms against the headboard. One hand came down to tangle in Bashta's long thick hair, guiding his rhythm faster and faster. The firm grip and the taste of his mate made Bashta shudder and one of his teeth caught the edge of Cavel's shaft in a sharp nick.

"Ouch!" Cavel pulled back.

Bashta blushed in embarrassment and looked down. He didn't really know much about sex but he knew that nicking his mate with his teeth was not a good thing. "Sorry."

"My fault, my mate." Cavel put his hand on Bashta's chin and tilted his head up. He leaned down and kissed him. "I got too excited; but you made me feel so good."

Bashta's blush deepened but he was pleased. "I did?"

"Mmhmm," Cavel murmured. He backed away a little and then grabbed Bashta by the hips, sliding him back down on the bed to lay flat again. "Very good." His grin was feral. "But now it's my turn."

***

Cavel made short work of removing Bashta's jeans and underwear, pleased to see how excited he was. It was his turn to lick his lips as he leaned over and tasted the clear fluid leaking from the tip of his mate's erection. He used the flat of his tongue to spread the fluid around the head before putting his mouth over it and sucking hard until his lips popped off the end. He glanced up at Bashta. His head had kicked back on the pillows at the intense pleasure and his hands were knotted in the blue sheets.

"Oh gods!" Bashta moaned as he waited for Cavel to continue. "Don't stop, please."

Cavel rumbled in pleasure at the quiet whimper. He leaned back down and engulfed Bashta's cock down to the base before pulling up as he sucked hard, using his tongue to trace a line up the shaft before he went back down. Several strokes later Bashta's hips were inching up with each pull, almost frantic whimpers and moans escaping him as he lay helpless under the overwhelming assault of pleasure in his body. 

Cavel could feel the pleasure Bashta felt through their bond and his own erection twitched and throbbed in response. He pulled off before Bashta could reach that final point when the stimulation would become too much.

He loved the way his mate whined in protest.

"Let's try something." He turned around and pulled Bashta with him until they lay on their sides facing each other. He could feel Bashta's shuddering breaths as he pulled back from the brink of orgasm, only seconds away when Cavel pulled off. He nudged Bashta's lips with his erection as he stretched his head forward and began flicking his tongue at the sensitive underside of the pink throbbing head in front of him. Bashta cautiously followed his lead.

"Hmm, feels good," Cavel moaned before he opened his mouth wide to take in his mate.

"Oh god," Bashta said as Cavel deep throated him. He rolled Cavel's balls in his hand and began to suck on the wide head, inching his way down.

"Don't take more than you can handle," Cavel warned him and then began sucking again. He wrapped his lips around the base and pulled up to the tip, feeling Bashta's pleasure through their bond as well as the warm moist pressure of Bashta's mouth on his own erection. Their breathing began to stutter after only a few minutes, the stimulation too much for either of them to hold out for long.

Bashta tipped over the edge first, his hips thrusting forward to bury his length in the back of Cavel's throat as he orgasmed. His cries and moans vibrated along Cavel's length and set him off, though he had just enough control not to thrust forward and choke his mate. 

His body shook as he held rigid as he came, long seconds of pleasure washing over him as their climaxes spread through their bond and doubled their sensation. Panting, he pulled off and rested his head on Bashta's thigh as they recovered.

It took him a few minutes before he had the strength to turn around but when he finally did, he gathered Bashta into his arms and curled around him. They were facing the open doors and the moon was high above the mountain bathing the now exposed snowy tip in a strong silvery light.

"I think I like your bedroom," Bashta said with a little smile.

"Our bedroom," Cavel corrected him.

Bashta turned his head and Cavel leaned down to kiss him, a soft, gentle kiss full of the love and contentment he felt at finally having his mate home and in their bed. Bashta snuggled back into his arms and sighed.

"Our bedroom."

"Are you thirsty, or hungry?" Cavel asked. "I could get up." 

Bashta tightened his arms around him. "I don't think I'm going to let you out of this bed tonight." 

Cavel's head lifted off the pillow as he blearily tried to locate the ringing sound that woke him up. Snarling a bit in irritation, he reached over Bashta to his pants on the floor. He blinked a few times, trying to bring the words on the screen into focus. Saulle

He flipped the phone with a grimace, "Hello?"

"I'm sorry to bother you and your mate on your first night at home," Saulle said apologetically.

Cavel rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, glancing out the open doors to the sky that was just beginning to fade from pitch black to a deep midnight blue. "What time is it?"

"About four thirty."

"This had better be important."

"Yes, Alpha, it is." Saulle paused so long Cavel lost his temper.

"Well what is it?" he snapped. 

Bashta rolled over and laid a hand on his chest. His other hand slipped over Cavel's side to caress the line of spots running up his back. Cavel instantly calmed under the relaxing sensations Bashta was sending through their bond. He sighed and apologized to Saulle. "I'm sorry. I didn't get much sleep."

Cavel could almost hear the smirk on Saulle's face in his voice. "I understand, my lord. I would not have interrupted you for anything less than something critical."

His forehead wrinkled. "Is everyone okay? The kitlings?" Bashta asked. His sexy ears Cavel loved to tease so much caught every word of the conversation. Saulle could hear him as well and answered his worried question.

"No, no, they're fine. At least the ones we have here."

Cavel frowned. "What do you mean the ones we have here? All the sick kitlings were gathered there at the community center." He looked at his mate who was chewing on his lip. "Wait, did this spread to another clan? Has someone contacted the doctors?"

Saulle started talking quickly, trying to reassure Cavel. "No, nothing like that. Dr. Waddel did call a few hours ago and tell us they were working hard on the next batch of antiserum. I was talking with Nallelija about our search when I was feeding her some broth. I can't believe we forgot them!"

"You're not making a lot of sense Saulle. You're jumping around all over the place. Slow down; who did we forget?"

"That visiting family, the nomads requesting to join our clan."

Cavel's eyes went wide. "Shit! You think they brought this plague to our clan?" Cavel swore again. "I'll track them down and kill them!"

"You don't have to."

***

"Show me," Cavel ordered.

"We haven't gone in. We didn't want to risk the plague spreading." Saulle pulled the agitated alpha male around the edge of the building to the backdoor in the kitchen. The glass slider was shut but the curtains were left open to the dawn light coming up over the trees. The soft pink rays highlighted a disturbing scene.

Lying on the floor was a large male. His face was turned toward the door and clearly visible were black lesions marring the warm gold skin and circular rosettes. He was sprawled on his stomach with his head toward the living room. Cavel shifted, looking as far sideways into the room as he could. He could see the mother sitting up, her face slack as flies crawled on it. Her hands were curled protectively over a small body sheltered under a blanket on her lap.

"Do you have the key?"

Saulle's mate, Nallelija, usually did the work that the alpha's mate was usually responsible for. Before Bashta returned home with him, Cavel had no one else. She helped him entertain visitors and often arranged for their stays in the guest houses on the outskirts of town. Things fell apart when she got sick soon after Ariella. Saulle had been nearly frantic as they tried to find someone to help them. That fact was the only reason why Cavel had not kicked him out of his clan for his treatment of Bashta in the rainforest. 

Saulle looked at Cavel in disbelief. "I do not think you should go in there."

"I didn't ask you." He held out his hand. "Keys."

Bashta spoke up from his place at Cavel's side. "You are wrong Cavel."

Cavel swung around to look at him with his mouth open. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"You can't go in there. It's not safe."

Cavel's eyes narrowed. "I'm just as safe as anyone else. We have the antiserum. Someone has to go in there and this is my responsibility. I am the alpha; I allowed these cats into our territory. I allowed this sickness to hurt our clan." His claws were extending by the time he was done, his anguish ruining his control.

"You are not to blame. We don't even know if they brought this here. You couldn't have known." Bashta reached out and carefully grabbed one of Cavel's hands. "I know you are the alpha here; but I am too. Clearly they died of the plague, plague that kills, Cavel. There isn't enough antiserum for everyone yet. Would you take a dose away from a sick kitling because you are too stubborn to admit we're right?"

Bashta's fingers massaged Cavel's hand as he sent reassurance and calming emotions through their bond. He felt a surge of relief when Cavel nodded in defeat. Bringing the captured hand up to his mouth, Bashta dropped a quick kiss on the palm.

"I'll need the key."

Saulle looked at him and winked; Bashta's ability to calm Cavel would be invaluable to the clan. As second in command, Saulle had often felt the need to question Cavel's orders but as an alpha, Cavel didn't tolerate too much resistance to his orders. He was more open than most alphas but the burdens on him that had grown increasingly heavy and that had made him often intractable.

Cavel didn't know of the talks Saulle and Bashta had while they watched over the sick kitlings. Bashta had gained new insight into his mate. He also understood more of why Saulle had objected so strongly to Bashta when they met. Without a female mate there would be no kitlings to lead the next generation. For Carthera jaguar clans, only the black jaguars are alphas. Only they could lead their clan. 

Bashta shook his head; that was a worry for another day.

"I'll need some place to clean myself once I come back out." Bashta looked at Cavel. "You said people could get this from touching something that has the plague on it and then touching someone else. That's not just person to person, that means stuff like the doors and furniture, right?"

"That's right," Cavel said reluctantly. "I should be the one going in there. What if this has mutated, or there is something in there..."

"This is my clan as much as yours now. We are done discussing this. I'm going in. I just need some way to make sure you don't get this sickness too."

"There is another guest house up the road. We'll go and unlock it. You can shower there. The dresser and closets have a few spare sets of sweats and t-shirts. Bag your clothes and we'll burn them after. We can close up that house and this one. Once everyone has been given the antiserum we'll be safe to come back and clean and give this poor family a proper burial ceremony."

Saulle handed a key to Bashta. "We'll wait at the car."

Cavel pulled Bashta to him and held him close. "I...," he trailed off, but Bashta could feel his stress.

"Promise me you will wait at the car," Bashta whispered. Cavel's muscles were rigid under Bashta's hands. Through their bond, Bashta could feel his emotions warring within him. He would use whatever means he had to convince Cavel that he was right. He kissed Cavel's neck and sent a wave of love through their bond. "Promise me."

Cavel grudgingly nodded. "I'll wait." His hand came up and wrapped around Bashta's braid. He brought their lips together, teeth clicking as he pressed with almost bruising force, controlling Bashta's head so that he couldn't pull away. He pulled back abruptly, pressing their foreheads together. "After this we go home. Just us, for days."

Bashta was breathing hard. "You don't even have to finish the tour. We can stay in bed."

Cavel smiled at him, his hands falling reluctantly away. He took a few steps back, their eyes locked together. Saulle put his arm on his shoulder and Cavel turned away, slowly following him around the corner of the house toward the car parked on the street.

Bashta turned and walked the other direction, looking at the ground and the trees around the house. He stopped at the front door, turning the key in his fingers. Seeing the sick kitlings had been hard for him. His nightmares had combined their faces with those of his dead family. He had prayed to not have to face any deaths from this evil plague. Those at greatest risk in the clan were safe but for these poor jaguars help had come too late.

The smell when he opened the door made him gag. His senses were much sharper now that he had bonded; the scent of plague death was the same as he remembered but much stronger. He stood frozen, just one step inside the door.

"Get away!"

"Burmal, what are you doing here?" Bashta's mother gasped when saw the symbols on the tree her mate was leaned against. "Oh my god. Who is sick?"

Burmal managed to turn to face them and his head lolled to one side. Black sores dotted his face, marring his cheeks and forehead. His eyes were fever bright and he gasped as he tried to breathe. They could see his chest heaving with each breath.

"Everyone. They're dead. All dead." His fingers scrambled hard at the ground as he was wracked by a coughing fit. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Bashta clung to his mother, his eyes huge as he watched his father struggle for breath. He tried to take a step forward and she held her back as he whimpered in protest, fighting her. They couldn't go closer, it smelled... wrong. Bad.

"No. Take Bashta and go. Stay far away from here. This is a sickness the healers have never seen. Everyone died; none of our medicines could do more than halt the course of this plague for a few hours. You have to take the kitling and teach him to be strong.

"I had a vision. The Jaguar will save him; keep our line from dying out. No one else can protect the Temple." He began coughing again, blood spraying out as Burmal fought to draw in one more breath of that life giving air.

"I... love... you."

Arms wrapped around each other, his mother stumbled away from their village holding him as he screamed. Even after they were miles away the smell, the sickly sweet scene of decaying flesh and the bitter tang of the weeping sores clung to Bashta. They had washed repeatedly in the river but he could still smell it every time he drew a breath. When the nightmares came they were filled with the scent of the plague and the blood slowly dripping down his father's face.

The same smell filled this small square house. Bashta coughed and covered his nose with his hand. He took shallow breaths through his mouth, grimacing when his enhanced senses made even that distasteful.

"Bashta!" Saulle was standing by the car. He had a small silver object in his hand. "Catch."

Catching the metal object Bashta looked at it and then back up at Saulle in confusion. "It's a camera. Push the small button on the top. It will take images of whatever you point it at. Just push the round button on the right until it clicks and the flash goes off. The screen in back will show you a copy of the picture you just took in case you need to take another one.

"This way we can see what you do without entering the house." Saulle reassured Bashta, "It's easy. You'll catch on in minutes. Make sure you get pictures if there is some form of medical technology; needles, small glass tubes, things like that. Once you get to the other house clean your hands, then open the flap on the side. Push down and then pull the little card, we can get the images from that."

Bashta followed Saulle's directions and turned on the camera. Even his interest in the amazing technology couldn't distract him from his grisly duty for long. He took shallow breaths through his mouth but he grimaced when he entered the main room. He could see the top of the female's head over the back of the couch. Approaching slowly, Bashta snapped a picture.

He inched around the side until he could see the woman's face. It was swollen, black lesions marring her smooth skin. Her eyes were wide open and glassy, focused on the ceiling with the blank stare of death. Bashta hated to do it but he held the camera out in front of him and took another picture. He looked down at the blanket wrapped bundle on her lap and turned away. He couldn't look at that yet.




Two of a Kind Ch. 05



Bashta snapped a picture of the man lying sprawled out on the floor. His face was turned away from where Bashta was standing so he carefully stepped over the prone form and crouched down. The flash highlighted the gray undertone of his face. Bashta gagged.

He still couldn't move toward that small bundle so he began moving through the house room by room. He stood in the center of each room and took pictures, turning in slow circles to get everything. He did the main living areas and then moved to the three bedrooms. One was empty but he took a picture of it anyway. The master bedroom and bath took him a while to go through as he looked under the bed, in the closets and cabinets. Finding suitcases in the closet he dragged them out and opened them.

He couldn't read the papers in the front flap so he spread them out on the messy bed and took a picture of each page, just in case. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and then continued to go through the blue suitcases. A bunch of clothes, personal effects, and shoes made up the rest of the contents.

The kitling's room was the hardest to enter. The blanket was pulled off the bed, obviously the one wrapped around the small form in the living room. Several toys were spread around the room. The small dresses and pink shoes told Bashta the gender of the child. He took a deep breath, going through the room with the same meticulous care he went through all the others.

"Jaguar save us!" Bashta stumbled back in shock. He stared at the object on the shelf in the corner while tears streamed down his face. It was a statue. A statue he recognized.

Lasemo was the best carver in the village. His jewelry was highly prized by the women and the men believed his blow guns were lucky. Often carved with the images of the beasts they hunted, it was considered an honor to receive a blow gun made by Lasemo. The kitlings though... they crowed in joy when he made them toys.

Wooden flowers that cleverly came apart and fit back together like a puzzle made from blood wood, statues of jaguars made from the pale huayruro wood, polished to a glistening shine with sand from the river and given black spot with the help of hot stones from the fire. Monkeys with clever curled tails that linked together from tigrillo, a rich brown with stripes. The favorite of the female kitlings, though, were the beautiful dolls he created. He carved the figures with fantastic headdresses and the mothers would create intricate skirts and capes for them.

Sitting on a small blanket on the shelf was one of those dolls. Her skirt and cape were missing but the headdress...

Bashta pointed the camera at the shelf with shaking hands and pushed the button several times with his eyes closed. He was crying so hard he could barely see as he fled from the house and ran up the road. The camera dangled from his wrist, forgotten, as he tried to outrun the memories that threatened to swamp him.

It took him several times to open the door at the other house. He hurried through the rooms. The similarity in the floor plan disturbed him but made it easy for him to find the bathroom. He dropped the camera on the counter and ripped off his clothes. There was already cleanser and shampoo in the bathroom; they were always kept ready for guests. He spent long minutes scrubbing the sick smell of death off his body and out of his hair.

Sobbing, he slowly sank to the floor under the warm stream of water. He drew his knees up and rested his forehead on them, rocking in anguish. Flashes of his family, his litter mates, and his parents flowed through his mind. His baby siblings, only a few years old had been his favorites. Little Velli had been his faithful shadow. She'd climbed all over him in the evenings, falling asleep in his arms more often than not. That doll had been hers, the headdress one Bashta himself had designed and asked Lasemo to carve for her birthing day.

Unable to think past his grief, Bashta stayed on the smooth floor of the shower until the water turned icy cold. It pulled him from the hold his painful memories had on him. He reached forward and shut off the water, his hands still trembling. Taking a breath he suddenly felt a swamping wave of love and concern. Cavel knew something had happened. Feeling his mate's emotions had Bashta rushing to find clothes. He was still dripping when he pulled on a pair of black sweats and tied the cord that could barely hold them up on his hips. The t-shirt he found was equally as big but he didn't care.

He did remember to grab the small card from the camera. Holding that in his hand he walked barefoot out of the house. The dew was still wet on the grass under his feet as he walked across the lawn. His eyes were locked on Cavel standing beside the car. Saulle stood next to him. Bashta stopped a few feet away and wordlessly held the card out to Saulle.

Cavel looked as if he wasn't breathing. He stared at Bashta who stood motionless, tears beginning to trickle back down his cheeks. Bashta was unsure if he could stand any questions but when Cavel simply held his arms out, Bashta rushed into his embrace. He buried his face in Cavel's neck, breathing deep.

Cavel's clean musky scent washed away the last of the smell still lingering in his nostrils. Bashta couldn't do anything but tremble. Cavel carefully maneuvered his unresisting body into the backseat and then pulled him back into his arms. Bashta curled up and wrapped his arms around Cavel's chest, holding on with all the strength he had. He could feel Cavel's occasional struggles for breath but he was unable to relax his grip.

"It's okay, I'm here," Cavel soothed him, rubbing his back in small circles. "I'm not going anywhere. We'll be home soon."

"You want me to take you back to your house?" Saulle looked back at Cavel in the rear view mirror.

"Yes. You can use my laptop to look at the pictures."

"Do you think he will be able to tell us what he saw?" Saulle whispered.

"No. I can't feel his thoughts at all but his emotions are swamping him right now. I don't think he can really understand us. But I don't think he'll need to tell us what he saw. I could feel this overwhelming sensation of pain right about a minute before he came running out of the other house. Whatever he saw will be the last pictures he took."

"If he remembered to take pictures."

Cavel continued to rub Bashta's back. "He's the strongest person I know. He took them."

Saulle just nodded and continued to drive.

"Hold on baby, we'll be home soon," Cavel said softly. "Hold on."



Two of a Kind Ch. 06



"Let's get you inside." 

Getting out of the car took quite a bit of work. Cavel had to pry Bashta's arms from around his chest and gently coax him from his place in the backseat. As soon as they were standing, Cavel swung the slighter man up into his arms to keep his bare feet off the sharp gravel. It was probably unnecessary but Bashta just huddled into him, his long legs dangling limp.

Saulle hurried ahead of them and opened the door. Walking in sideways, Cavel made his way to the living room. Painted a sage green, the windows showed the west side of the house and looked over the foothills of the mountain and the verdant forest. The room was large but it was dominated by a tan microfiber couch. 

Cavel sat down while still holding Bashta and snagged the blanket that was draped over the back. He wrapped it around them, tucking it around Bashta so that all but his head was covered in the velvety soft fleece.

"My laptop is in the office," Cavel told Saulle. "Go get it and load that memory card."

Cavel watched as Saulle went through the kitchen to the office at the back of the house. Cavel was rubbing slow circles on Bashta's back as the young man continued to silently shake in his arms. Cavel looked up when Saulle reappeared with a bottle of water and his laptop. Saulle offered him the bottle. 

"Thanks."

Saulle nodded and sat down on the other end of the couch, booting up the laptop. He slipped the SD card into the drive and then opened the folder with the images. He turned the computer so that Cavel could see the screen and scrolled down to the last images. Cavel tried not to see the bodies of the Carthera who had sat at his dinner table; their bodies distorted by death were a disturbing sight. 

"It's the little girl's room," Saulle whispered. "A bed, clothes, shoes, and a doll. The doll is the last picture."

Cavel pushed Bashta's damp hair off his face. "I know you are a little lost right now but I need you to talk to me." 

Bashta opened his eyes. They were shiny with unshed tears as he stared at Cavel until they began to flow unnoticed down his cheeks. He opened his mouth and then shuddered, his ears flat to his skull. 

"The doll; it was Velli's," he whispered. His hand curled into Cavel's shirt, his claws making small tears in the fabric.

Saulle frowned. "The little girl's name was Annelise."

Cavel looked back down at Bashta. "Who's Velli, babe?"

"My little sister."

Cavel blinked. How did?

"She... she followed me everywhere. Fell asleep in my lap almost every night." Bashta let out a small sob. Cavel hugged him closer and Bashta swallowed hard as he suppressed the sobs Cavel could see threatening to break out. "Lasemo taught me how to carve but I couldn't do it as well as he could so I asked him to make her a doll. One with a golden goddess flower headdress and a black necklace like the one Velli wore."

Cavel wiped Bashta's face with a corner of the blanket. "So you recognize this doll?"

Bashta nodded. "She took it everywhere," he said hoarsely. Cavel handed him the bottle of water and Bashta took a small sip. His ears were still flat and he still shuddered from time to time but he was beginning to calm down.

Saulle's face was serious. "I hate to ask you this, but could the jaguar in these photos have come to your clan and made them sick somehow?"

"I've never seen him before."

"You were just a kitling; are you sure your memory is clear enough to be sure?"

Bashta sat up on Cavel's lap and glared at Saulle. "I may have just been a kitling but those memories you seem to think aren't clear enough are the last ones I have of my family and friends. I have thought about that time over and over as I cried and mourned for the goodbyes I never got to make," he rasped. "Outsiders were rare; usually humans who lost their way or local tribesmen. They were never allowed in the village where the women and kitlings were."

Saulle bowed his head under the force of Bashta's glare and the anger in his tone. "I apologize."

Cavel began rubbing Bashta's back again, this time to soothe his anger. "We believe you. That just makes this more confusing though. Can you tell us how long it's been since your family...?" Cavel paused, trying to come up with a gentler way to say it.

"Died?" Bashta closed his eyes. "They're dead. You can say it. I couldn't for a long time until I realized thinking anything else only made it worse. I've had a long time to get used to the reality of being alone, several cycles of seasons. Five, I think."

Cavel put his hand on Bashta's cheek and turned his face so he would look at him. "You're not alone anymore."

Bashta covered Cavel's hand with one of his own. "No, not anymore. But for a long time I was." The pain in his voice was unmistakable and Cavel vowed he'd make sure Bashta never had to feel that way again. 

"Too long. It's just too long of a time gap." Saulle looked thoughtful. "Could they have somehow found the doll outside of the village?"

"No!" Bashta said sharply.

"They haven't been out of the country either. I had Mackent run their names through the computer to find out as much about them as we could. I wanted to make sure they weren't thing hiding anything before we let them join out clan. The little girl didn't even have a passport." 

Cavel frowned. "I don't think this sickness was brought to us deliberately. It's too random, too unpredictable with the outcome. What if it spread? Our clan is larger than most and that could make the other jaguar clans fear us but they wouldn't risk getting the plague as well. I have no idea how to discover what is really going on though."

"Someone has to have gone to his village. It's the only thing that makes sense," Saulle said.

"I can go back to the jungle and find out. I could go right now." Bashta's tears had dried on his cheeks and his red eyes gleamed in anger as the situation settled in. "Someone has desecrated the dead in my village. It cannot go unpunished."

"No!" It was Cavel's turn to snap.

Bashta bristled in anger, glaring at Cavel. "Are you trying to tell me what I can and cannot do?"

Cavel took a breath and spoke more calmly. He had to defuse Bashta's rage that was pulsing through the bond, not make it worse. "I am not trying to forbid you from doing anything. But this is not a safe time for me to be gone from the clan. They are bonding with you right now and recovering from this plague. They need us here, the bond isn't secure yet."

"What bond? Our mate bond?" Bashta asked, looking worried as his fingers clenched in Cavel's shirt again.

"No, no. Our mate bond is solid." Cavel sent a wave of love to Bashta who smiled and returned it along with a wave of relief. "See?"

"Okay. You shouldn't scare me like that. There is just so much my mother didn't teach me, so much I don't know."

"And that is why you need to be here," Cavel reminded him. "As the Alpha pair of our clan we have a bond with our people that keeps the clan's magic working. In the animal world jaguars are solitary creatures but we are partly human. The magic that bonds each clan comes from the alpha bond. It joins us together and lets us live in harmony. Without an alpha the bond dissolves and everyone can go feral."

"But you were gone before; you came to my jungle." Cavel could see how frustrated and confused Bashta was. He wasn't doing a very good job of explaining himself.

"I took mated men from our clan with me. They were linked to me and to their mates. With those bonds still in place the clan was safe."

"So I take some men with me too."

"What if they get sick again? The antiserum will protect the clan, but only for a certain period of time." Cavel hated to deny Bashta but what his mate wanted was not feasible.

Bashta's eyes got big. "I thought the antiserum was going to save everyone." Distress came from the bond. Cavel's hand began to stroke his back.

"It will, but the benefits of it won't make them actively immune to the disease like you. You had the disease and recovered which means it can't attack your body without a natural response stopping it. The antiserum made from your blood attacks any cells with the plague once it's administered but once it had done that it won't continue. We can't take the chance that the men who go with you will no longer be protected by the antiserum if they are exposed to the plague again. It's just not safe and the next time the antiserum might not work on them. 

"If something like that happens those men would die, their mates would go feral and their kitlings would be left alone." Cavel knew that he wasn't being fair. He was putting what if's into Bashta's head in order to keep him from making a choice that would endanger them both. He was causing him pain and he hated it but he would do whatever it took to keep his mate and his clan safe.

Bashta bowed his head. "I don't know what to do. My father put the responsibility for my clan on me. To be the last of my clan is a terrible burden but there was no one else. I have to protect them in death, just as I would have in life." Bashta looked up at Cavel, pleading with him. "Help me stop this desecration. Velli should be left in peace, they all should."

Cavel nuzzled their cheeks together. He took a deep breath and let it out. "There is someone who might be able to help us."

***

"I need to speak to Velaku." Cavel sat on the couch with Bashta still snuggled in the blanket, nestled beside him. 

Bashta could hear a deep male voice on the other end of the phone speaking. "Is this an emergency?"

"Not exactly but it's very important. Look, who am I speaking with?"

"This is Natham."

"Velaku's mate?" Saulle's eyebrows rose when he heard Cavel ask that question.

"Now maybe I should ask who I am speaking with." 

They could all hear a hint of irritation in Natham's voice and Cavel hurried to answer him."I'm sorry. This is Cavel, alpha of the Jaguar clan."

"Your clan is the one that is sick. I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Natham paused, "Velaku is on a conference call but he should be done within the quarter hour. I can have him call you back as soon he is done."

"I can speak with you for now, if that's acceptable." Bashta played with the edge of the blanket, folding and pleating it. Cavel moved the phone to his right ear and laced his fingers with Bashta's, stilling his restless folding.

"Sure," Cavel could hear rustling, "just a minute." A door closed and the slight sound of voices in the background was gone. "I can hear you better and we have more privacy now. What can we do to help your clan? The last we heard you were searching for a cure in the Amazon."

"We found a cure in the Amazon, but it wasn't from any plant. I found a lone survivor of this plague there, my mate, Bashta," Cavel said proudly. "Congratulations are in order then. Your clan can be saved and you finally met your mate. Is she adjusting to the modern world well?"

"Well she is a he; but yes, he is. He's been helping to treat the kitlings and sick women while the doctors made an antiserum from his blood. His clan was stricken with this same plague about five years ago. He was too young and there was no way to save his clan but he saved ours. He is a precious gift from the gods."

Bashta was looking at Cavel as he spoke, tears once again shining in his eyes. He ducked his head and wiped his eyes surreptitiously. "I love you," he mouthed when he looked back up. 

Cavel touched Bashta's cheeks gently with his fingertips and smiled.

"As good as it sounds like things are there; obviously there is some reason why you need to speak to Velaku. Can you tell me what that is?" Natham spoke carefully. He was Velaku's mate but he wasn't a Falcon and it was almost unheard of to have a cross species mating like his and Velaku's. Some of the subordinate clans had objected to Natham since he was a lynx. Cavel knew about their objections though, had no such compunctions himself.

"Sure," Cavel said. "I think once the shock of finally realizing that things would be okay we finally realized something we had overlooked this whole time; how the plague made its way to my clan."

"Do you have an answer?"

"I have a dead family of jaguars who were petitioning to join my clan but I don't think they brought this to us on purpose. I think there is something much bigger going on." Cavel tightened his grip and rubbed Bashta's arm. The caressed helped to keep him from falling back into the horror the sight had brought back for him; Cavel had to speak about the family. Velaku would need the information so he had to tell Natham but Bashta could tell he was hesitant to speak of it in front of him. 

"I have pictures of the guest house they were staying in. If you'll give me an email address I can send you a link to the images. The most important one is the last, a small statue like doll carved from wood."

"You can send it to Velaku's clan business email, I have access to that account and this way he will be able to see it as well."

Saulle was still sitting with the laptop open on his lap. His fingers danced over the keys. "Done," he said.

"You should have them any minute," Cavel informed Natham. Bashta was amazed at the technology but it wasn't enough to draw him from his funk. He leaned his head against Cavel and snuggled in closer.

"Opening now." 

Cavel was silent for several minutes as Natham scanned the images. He could hear the menacing snarl building up over the phone. It was a dangerous sound and he couldn't help but shiver. Cavel only hoped no one walked in and surprised the livid lynx until he had a chance to calm down.

"Someone killed the Giddings? Why weren't they treated with the rest of your clan?"

Cavel swallowed hard at the deadly sound of Natham's voice. The lynx was clearly very upset. "I don't know how they got this plague; they didn't call anyone from my clan or tell us they were sick. My second in command's mate was acting as a liaison for them and she came down with the plague herself. With everything going on, they were forgotten." 

Bashta could tell Cavel felt horrible about that, the guilt in him was spilling into their bond. He rubbed his cheek on his mate's shoulder, comforting him. "You didn't know," he mouthed. Cavel smiled at him sadly before his face settled back into serious lines.

"There is not a lot I do know, which is why I was calling Velaku. The doll statue was a toy that belonged to a younger sibling of my mate."

"Are you sure it's not just a recreation?" Natham was barely keeping his growl out of his voice.

Bashta could hear him and shook his head. "Each one was unique and I saw Velli's doll every day. There was a small V in the top flower. I saw that same v in the headdress."

Cavel rubbed his mate's arm before answering Natham, knowing he had to have heard Bashta."Yes sir. We need to find out how it got here though. None of the natives would have gone near his clan's village. Bashta's father spent his last moments carving plague warnings around their village; no way would any native not heed the warnings. This plague only seems to attack jaguars but we have no idea who is responsible and if they deliberately infected our clan."

"What exactly do you need from us?"

"It's not safe to return to the jungle for anyone in my clan while this plague is being spread. We need someone to investigate where the doll came from and who is behind the desecration of my mate's people. My mate and I must return to the jungle next year but we need answers before then. I want those responsible to pay and for my clan to be safe from future attacks."

"I want whoever caused the deaths of the Giddings and attacked your clan as well. I will speak with Velaku and see what ideas he has. He should be wrapping up on his previous call about now; expect some answer within the hour." Cavel could hear Natham typing on the computer. His anger was still almost palpable through the phone lines.

"Thank you," Cavel said. "We will be here."

Saulle spoke up as soon as Cavel hung up the phone. "Do you truly trust him to do this?"

"Yes. I have met both Velaku and Natham. I don't care what other Carthera say about them; they are right for each other. The fact that they are both males and different clans is the will of the gods. They are still mates. I don't doubt for a moment that Velaku would be anything less than the man his father raised him to be." Bashta was still snuggled into the blanket and leaning against Cavel. His yawn got Cavel's attention.

"I'm going to take Bashta back up to bed. We didn't get much sleep last night and a nap will do us good."

"Oh, that sounds nice," Bashta said tiredly. The emotions of the day had worn him out. Cavel stood up and Bashta and Saulle followed.

"I'm going to head back to my family if you don't need me any longer." Saulle rubbed his red rimmed eyes. "I've not been getting much sleep either."

"Call Piscel and tell him he's to take charge of the families in the community center so you can get some rest without being woken up. Then have Mackent take a couple of men to the houses and clean them up. Have them take special care while bagging the doll, I want it triple bagged. I'll call Piscel if we need you; until then, get some rest and take care of your girls."

Bashta shrugged the blanket off his shoulders on to the couch. He stepped forward and hugged Saulle. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I didn't need to snap at you earlier. We are all upset right now. You are trying to help."

"It's what clan does," Saulle said honestly. He hugged Bashta back and then hugged Cavel before letting himself out.

Cavel held out his hand. "Ready to go upstairs?" Bashta took it and with the skin contact Cavel could feel his exhaustion through their bond much stronger than before. "Let's get you in bed before you fall asleep right here."

"Okay," Bashta mumbled through another yawn.

Once they were in bed Bashta snuggled up to his chest and soon fell asleep. Cavel had one arm around his shoulders and the other one was holding the phone. He wanted Bashta to get plenty of rest to let his mind come to terms with the things he had seen that day. Cavel rested his arm over his head on his pillow and closed his eyes.

***

He jumped a little when the phone vibrated against his ear and woke him up. He felt around with his hand trying to find it. He was glad he hadn't dropped it off the bed. He glanced at the time on the screen before he answered it in a groggy voice, "Hello."

"Cavel?" The tenor voice belonged to Velaku; though it was lower than normal. He sounded angry, as angry as his mate had been when he got off the phone a few hours before.

"Yes. Just a moment." Cavel slid carefully out from under Bashta and off the bed. He walked over to the bathroom and shut the door all but an inch so that he could hear Bashta if he needed him.

"Sorry about that. My mate is sleeping and I didn't want to wake him with our conversation." Cavel leaned against the cool marble of the counter and shivered a little from the sensation on his sensitive back.

"Understandable. Natham told me you found your mate when you were in the Amazon jungle, congratulations. That deserves celebration but I'm afraid these other matters take precedence."

"I agree, sir."

"I'm sorry this took longer than an hour but I have been dealing with some things in other clan territories as well. Something or someone is creating a lot of trouble for our people and I think your plague might be part of it. I agree that it wasn't something deliberately done, though I'm worried it might be in the future."

"What can we do about it?"

"We can do nothing ourselves but I think I have just the man for the job. Davis Retic."

"The Snake?" Cavel asked incredulously. "You are seriously going to try and ask the Snake for a favor? Does anyone even know where he is anymore?"




Two of a Kind Ch. 06



"It's not a favor and yes, I know where he is. He lives in my territory," Velaku said shortly.

"I apologize. I didn't think that you would allow a Snake nearby because of..." Cavel trailed off before he could finish that sentence.

Cavel heard a sharp cracking noise and then some static over the line. "Just a moment," Velaku said. There was the slam of a drawer and then a click of a new phone turning on before the line was again free of static. His voice was flat when he spoke again. "I won't speak of that."

Cavel swallowed hard. "I understand."

"It's enough to say that no matter what is said about him I trust Davis' competence and skills for this job more than anyone else. I'm not asking him for a favor on my behalf or yours so you don't have to worry about being in debt to either of us. This matter is now for the safety of all the clans. Besides, I already spoke to him and he's agreed."

"Is there anything we can do?" Cavel's ears were flat to his skull in frustration, making the phone call all the more difficult. He understood the reasons why he couldn't search out the men behind the doll making its way to his clan's doorstep but that didn't make it easier to rely on someone else. Even if Velaku said there would be no debt to be paid Cavel would owe the Snake; it was a debt he would be glad to hold if it meant his people were safe. 

"I need your mate to tell Davis as much about the area he lived in as possible; also, provide him with a map to the clan's village. Other than that, get your people well. I spoke with your doctors earlier as well; your clan still has a long road ahead of them."

"Yes, sir. Is there any timeframe for The Snake to contact us?" Cavel was still tired and he knew Bashta was worn dangerously thin. They needed more rest and some time to live normally within the clan, let the bond do its work.

"He doesn't work like that, with time frames and deadlines. He is the best at what he does though and out of anyone I know he is the one I'd trust with this. He will most likely call you and your mate sometime today. However, you might want to prepare for him to arrive in person.

"I know Snakes aren't exactly comfortable around the cat clans but he won't go near the kitlings or your sick women." Velaku assured him. "You can trust him, in many ways he is not the man his reputation makes him out to be. If you answer his questions he will be able to track down who gave that doll to that poor little girl. We will find out who hurt your clan no matter what it takes, I swear it.

"Thank you, sir for taking the time to call out the best already. I know you said that this wasn't a favor but it means a lot to my mate. He lost his entire clan and the thought that someone is disturbing the dead is too much for him on top of everything else he has had to endure lately."

"You clan is under my protection and you are also my friend. What harms you harms me. I do not believe that this attack was deliberate, rather than a serious of unfortunate events but I could be wrong. Davis will get us the answers we need."

Cavel couldn't help but shiver at little at the thought of talking to the powerful Carthera known to most only as the Snake. "We shall await his call."

Cavel wasn't too surprised when The Snake called the next day. Even Bashta could hear the pounding music in the background. He briefly spoke to Cavel who appeared to reluctantly agree to something. Then Cavel held the phone out; apparently he wanted to speak to Bashta.

"Yes?" Bashta held the phone gingerly to his ear. He still wasn't used to the modern technology but he was adapting faster to it than Cavel would have thought for someone who grew up in the primitive world of the Amazon jungle.

"I need more history on your clan and this sickness; it would be helpful if we could meet and talk in person. I would also like to see the actual object in question." The snake had a deep voice, a little sibilant on the word see made a shiver go up Bashta's back. Cavel pulled him into his arms and hugged him from behind, soothing him as he spoke.

"He can't come here and handle that doll. It could still have the contagion on it. The houses have already been sanitized and the bodies burned."

Bashta took a breath to repeat what Cavel said but The Snake cut him off. "I heard him. Damn it," he cursed. "I can get by without seeing the scenes, I guess. Alright, I'm definitely going to have to meet with you in person. I'll need your scent and whatever you can tell me about where you are from and your clan."

"My scent?" Bashta's eyes were huge. "Why?"

"I never know who I'm going to be coming up against. According to Velaku you've been in the jungle most of your life. Even being here for a few weeks I'll be able to smell scents from your rainforest. Please let me speak to your mate."

Bashta handed him the phone. Cavel was frowning as he listened to the Snake talk. "We'll meet you in Fresno." There was a pause and Cavel's expression darkened. "Of course I would trust you around my clan, I trust Velaku's judgment; but we just had every kitling in my clan almost die. The men and women of my clan are understandably nervous right now, I'd hate for there to be an incident if it could be prevented, of course, but I meant what I said. I won't risk this plague hurting my clan again. I won't expose them to anything that's holds even a minute risk." 

A few minutes later Cavel hung up the phone. "Looks like we're headed to Fresno."

Cavel called Saulle and let him know where they were going. He wasn't happy about it but agreed that meeting The Snake in Fresno was better than bringing him to the Jaguar clan's lands. The car ride there was actually relaxing; Cavel pointed out the scenery for Bashta. They went through a lot of small towns and some stretches of desolate wild areas. Bashta had the window down, enjoying the warm air moving through the car and playing with the breeze with his fingers out the window. It made Cavel smile to see his mate so relaxed and he treasured the time they had alone.

That didn't last through the meeting with the Snake. They met in a park, avoiding the screaming human children clustered on the red and yellow play structure by starting along the walking path that led into a small wooded area. The whipcord lean man led the way, leaving Cavel and Bashta to follow.

"I appreciate you doing this for my clan." Cavel glanced at the snake Carthera. He wasn't nearly as impressive looking as his reputation would make him seem but Cavel had seen him stare down a Lion, just once. It was enough.

"I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Velaku," he smirked, "and the paycheck."

Bashta was walking on the other side of Cavel. He made sure to stay between the pair, protecting his mate from this Carthera with a reputation so volatile and dangerous other Snake Clan members wouldn't go near him. 

Bashta shook his head. "Whatever. As long as you find out who is doing this and we can stop them. My family does not deserve to have their final rest disturbed and that doll almost killed Cavel's entire clan." Bashta's hand clenched on Cavel's and he saw him push back the tears. Cavel had warned him not to appear weak in front of the Snake. 

Oddly enough, Cavel couldn't sense that Bashta didn't feel afraid; he seemed almost fascinated with first Carthera he'd me that wasn't a Jaguar.

The Snake stopped and stared at Bashta. The young cat stood his ground and held his stare; The Snake's slit pupils expanding then contracting. His tongue flicked out; Cavel's eyes narrowed as he watched him taste the air near his mate. He could feel Bashta's anger and knew Davis could taste it. 

Davis seemed to consider Bashta's words and then gave a concise nod. "I can do that."

Spending the next hour in a secluded area of the park, the Snake pumped Bashta and Cavel for everything they knew about the jungle around Bashta's home, the family that came asking to join Cavel's clan, and the doll Bashta had recognized. Cavel handed over a memory stick with a copy of all the pictures Bashta had taken.

Stopping at the jeep, Bashta held out his hand. "Thank you. Even if you aren't doing this for me, you will be helping our clan. If ever I can help you or yours, please call on me."

The Snake looked at the outstretched hand and then over at Cavel.

"He speaks for both of us," said Cavel simply. "Paycheck or not, we will owe you. I was nervous about that before I met you but as Velaku said; your reputation is not deserved. I trust you to do this right."

"Not wholly deserved maybe," the Snake said. He still hesitated but finally grasped Bashta's hand and gave it a firm shake. "I'll call you when I know something or I will let Velaku know any progress." 

"Thank you."

***

There wasn't a lot that Bashta didn't try to do over the next few weeks while they waited anxiously for news. It was better than sitting around the house for the phone to ring. The clan had absorbed him and made him one of their own after his tireless dedication to the sick kitlings. As the families received the antiserum shot and started to get better they left the Community Center in groups. Grateful for all he had done, they all offered to teach the alpha's mate everything they could about the wonders of the modern world.

Cavel spent a lot of time with him during the day, but when he was busy the different clan members would take Bashta with them to their jobs so that he could get a good idea of what he might like to do now that he was living in their world. He spent time mowing lawns in the parks with Serel. 

He tried waiting on customers in the town cafe, worked maintaining the trails in the clan hunting lands, and the crew kept telling him he was a real asset while working on a house being built for the Mastersons.

He had scaled up the ladder behind Mackent and walked easily along the narrow boards already making up the basic shell of the house skeleton. His fearless nature and natural agility prompted the crew to keep him on the roof nailing up supports most of the day. He enjoyed working with his hands and the hours passed quickly. He was having fun but was glad to stop at noon when he smelled food... and his mate. Cavel had come with the women who brought lunch for the work crew.

"Hey babe." Cavel shaded his eyes and called up to Bashta who was squatting on a beam, his bare toes gripping either side. Bashta looked down and saw him and grinned around a mouthful of nails. Cavel couldn't help but feel a surge of lust when he saw his mate bent over and got to ogle the curve of his ass from a whole new angle.

"Hey!" he said. Bashta carefully spit the nails out into his hand and put them in a small bag hanging off his belt. He slipped the hammer he was using in a loop on the other side of his belt and then in one smooth move swung down and hung from the rafter with his arms. Cavel watched the muscles in his stomach flex where Bashta's shirt stretched up. He was so fixated on the lean muscles rippling that he was startled when his lithe mate dropped to the plywood floor with a light thud.

Bashta laughed and then leaned against Cavel, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in for a kiss. "I didn't think I'd see you today."

Cavel pulled him in tight, grinding his instant erection against him. He knew his clan would only use it for more jokes about how randy his handsome mate made him but he didn't care. He plundered Bashta's mouth, tasting the metal of the nails and the warm flavor that was all his mate. He imagined he could still taste the bitter remnants of his orgasm that Bashta sucked out of him very early that morning.

It took them both a moment to stop panting when Cavel finally pulled back.

"Wow, that was as unexpected as you being here," Bashta growled a little as Cavel's hands squeezed his ass, "but I am happy to see you too." 

"I can feel that." Cavel chuckled, his eyes crinkling. "I need to take a break sometimes too. Owning a gym isn't exactly lazy man's work. I opened at 5:00 AM and taught a kickboxing class this morning and then had to deal with calls to suppliers and pay bills before I could make my escape."

"What's kickboxing?" Bashta asked as he followed Cavel over to the makeshift table set up from a strip of plywood balanced on two sawhorses. They both grabbed some roast beef sandwiches and cold pasta salad.

"It's a way of fighting, like martial arts." Cavel did his best to explain on the way to sit under a tree in the corner of the property.

"But you teach it to people for a class? Fighting is fun?" Bashta frowned; he didn't really understand, struggling with the concept of violence as anything other than a necessary skill for survival. "I don't think I'd like fighting or hurting someone for fun."

"Well, I teach it more for protection. I don't exactly agree with sport fighting either but Carthera have a lot of power, we're often stronger than humans. Without knowing what we are doing we could seriously hurt them in hand to hand confrontations. In the past humans claimed that we were vicious, using our strength as an excuse to say that we were dangerous animals that shouldn't be allowed to mingle with real people back when it first became illegal to hunt our kind down. They would use their laws instead." 

Cavel leaned his back against the tree. The bite of sandwich in his mouth was a small lump that he had a hard time swallowing. It sat uneasily in his stomach as he tried not to show how much he hated the struggle their kind had to live through just to be acknowledged as equal to humanity. He didn't want to scare Bashta who was just getting used to the modern world. He'd had very little interaction with humans other than the doctors and townsfolk who most often were related by marriage to some of their clan.

"Back then mobs of humans would attack a lone Carthera and then if they were stopped from killing them right then and there the poor male or female would be tried in court, in front of a judge and their peers," he rolled his eyes, "which in reality, were just a bunch of hateful humans. Most of the time the Carthera would end up dead anyway."

Bashta's mouth was wide open in shock. He stared at Cavel in horror."That's awful! It's not like that now, right? Humans and Carthera so... separate? I've seen humans who live here in town. Some of them helped when the kitlings were sick. That doesn't happen around here does it?" He had put his plate down and now his hands were twisting in his lap in his stress.

"Mostly, not around here, but places where it's not as common for our two kinds to mingle, like your jungle or in cut off rural areas it's still not completely changed. There will always be some people out there who just don't think we belong living side by side, some Carthera believe that too." Cavel leaned over and kissed his mate softly this time, trying to comfort him. 

"Eat your lunch Bashta, you need the food. "

"I am almost glad that we can't have kitlings, even though we need an heir. This world you live in is so scary sometimes and I'm an adult. The idea of being responsible to protect an innocent life from the dangers is more than I can imagine." Bashta picked up his half-eaten sandwich, tearing off pieces and putting them on the plate but not eating them. Cavel didn't say anything for a minute and then sighed. Bashta had been a little distant at times lately and now he knew why.

"I knew you heard the clan talking about that." Cavel put his plate down too and tugged on Bashta until he got the younger man sitting between his legs. "Have you been worrying about us not being able to have kitlings?"

Bashta bit his lip and rested his head against Cavel's shoulder. "A little. I understand more about why Saulle was so hostile in the beginning. If we don't have any kitlings then the clan is in danger because we have no one to take over after us." His voice was pained at the thought but Cavel knew he had to get this out. 

Bashta had been having bad dreams lately about one them being hurt or sick. They were very vivid and he woke up from each one with uncontrollable tears streaming down his face as he clutched his mate. He'd been waiting patiently for Bashta to finally tell him what was troubling him.

"You shouldn't have to give up you clan because I couldn't make an heir with you. If one of us dies the other will go feral and the clan will suffer almost as much. What if you had died from this damn plague? The clan would have fallen apart at the worst possible time. People could still die if that were to happen."

Cavel rubbed Bashta's arms. "We'll figure something out. I'm sure things will work out in the end. Right now we have enough to focus on." He leaned his head down and nibbled on the side of Bashta's neck. "Besides, I'm not ready to give up my alone time with you yet to make a family."

Bashta's breathing sped up and he moaned quietly. "Oh, distracting me like that isn't fair."

"Oh, I don't recall ever agreeing to play fair." He trailed his lips up to Bashta's wide, soft ears and began using the rough tip of his tongue to tease the edges, chuckling when Bashta squeaked. "Besides, I think you like it when I tease you."

"I do..." Bashta ran the very tips of his claws up Cavel's legs and down the sensitive insides of his thighs. It was Cavel's turn to moan and his muscles flexed and quivered. "I think you like it too."

"Do you need to stay all day?" Cavel asked him urgently.

"I promised Mackent I'd help. Ooooh..." Bashta arched a little when Cavel nibbled right on the base of his sensitive ear.

"Hey Mackent!" Cavel yelled.

A head popped up from the group of men lying with their mates under a tree close by. "Yeah boss?"

"You don't need Bashta this afternoon do you? We have some... things to discuss." Cavel's hands made their way under Bashta's shirt and were playing with his stomach as the muscles tightened and jumped.

Mackent laughed. "Sure thing. He can finish up those joists for the second floor tomorrow." He grinned at Cavel. "He's all yours. Have fun with your, ahhh, discussion."

Bashta blushed furiously. His claws dug in to Cavel's thighs just a little. In return Cavel reached up and pinched one nipple. Bashta jerked and hissed. He moaned when Cavel gently rubbed it to take the sting away in a wave of pleasure.

"Alright you two, get out of here before you get us all horny!" Mackent's mate, Belindi, scolded them.

"We're going, we're going," Cavel laughed. Bashta stood up and offered his hand to Cavel. They headed back to the vehicles hand in hand. Belindi sat next to where Mackent was laying down and watched them go, smiling softly.

"What's with that look?" Mackent asked. She looked down at him and rested her hand on his chest.

"Just remembering how exciting being newly mated is, that's all."

He sat up and kissed her. "We could do more than that tonight," he promised.

Cavel looked back and winked at Mackent who waved at him. He got in the driver seat of the Jeep and headed home, calling the gym on the way to tell them he wouldn't be coming back in that afternoon. Then he spent the rest of the time teasing his mate, dragging his claws along the straining bulge in his jeans and kneading his thigh as Bashta whimpered and moaned.

"Mphm," Cavel grunted when Bashta pressed him against the wall. His mate attacked his mouth, nipping at him as his hands pulled at his clothes. He barely let him go long enough to get his shirt off before he was back sucking on his lip and thrusting into Cavel's mouth with his tongue. 

"God you taste good." Bashta licked his lips and looked down at the tent in Cavel's pants. He pushed at the track pants Cavel wore, groaning when he realized his mate was in a jock strap.

"Spirits, you're hot. No time to taste you again, need you in me." Bashta stepped back and toes off his shoes and then ripped off his shirt and jeans. He sighed in relief when his cock sprang free and slapped against his stomach. Cavel hurried to get the rest of his clothes off, panting when his mate dropped to his knees and looked at him over his shoulder and then lowered until his head rested on his hands.




Two of a Kind Ch. 06



Cavel dropped down behind his mate who reached back and handed him a tube of lube.

"Where did you get this?" Cavel asked as he stroked the firm curves of Bashta's ass.

"From my pocket. I've been waiting for you to show up all day." Bashta winked at him. "That blow job this morning was just a warm up." 

Cavel groaned as he popped the top off the tube. "Definitely not ready to give up my alone time with you yet."

Sliding into his mate was as close to heaven as Cavel could imagine getting in his life. He leaned over his mate, stroking Bashta's back as he pulled back and pushed into his ass again, the tight, hot warmth surrounding him felt incredible. He thrust in slowly for a few strokes, the angle letting him press deep into his mate. Bashta shuddered and moaned beneath him.

"Faster." 

"Soon." Cavel wanted to draw it out, just a little. He knew the teasing in the car already had them both on edge but burying his cock in his mate was so intense if he started thrusting fast he'd lose all control. 

Bashta took matters into his own hand, beginning to rock and shove back harder and faster every time Cavel thrust into him as he stroked his coke hanging stiff between his legs. Growling a little, Cavel pulled Bashta up with one arm, achoring him against his chest. He pulled Bashta's arms up and the younger man linked them behind his neck, his claws digging in just a little.

Cavel's other hand played with Bastha's nipples, pinching and then rubbing them as Cavel shifted Bashta around so his legs were spread over his and then he really began to move.

They had both had enough teasing so Cavel didn't hold back. In this position his strokes were short but hard, hammering against Bashta's prostate with unerring accuracy. His hand swept down his stomach, caressing the soft skin over firm muscles until he reached Bashta's weeping erection.

It was a toss up what Cavel enjoyed more, firmly stroking the slick cock so that Bashta pushed into his hand or thrusting inside his mate until he pressed back, trying to get him even deeper. Soon their pace was almost frantic, the pleasure building between them, surging through their bond. Sweaty slaps of skin on skin and small needy sounds were all Cavel could hear.

His mind shut down, his entire focus was on the places they joined and the feeling of taking his mate. He'd waited so long and now he couldn't get enough. He leaned his head down, feeling them getting closer and closer to the edge. He sucked on Bashta's neck and when he felt their need hit a new high, the peak right before the end, he opened his mouth and bit down.

Bashta yelled and went rigid as he tripped over the edge and then it was Cavel's turn as he felt Bashta's muscles contract around him, milking him for every drop of come.

Cavel slowly slid out of Bashta and they sank down on the wood floor in a sweaty heap. Cavel pushed Bashta's hair that had fallen out the tie holding it back. 

"I'm going to have to kidnap you after lunch every day." 

Bashta smirked, still panting as he tried to recover. "Mmm, sounds good. A meal and dessert!" 



Two of a Kind Ch. 07



"I think working in the library is my favorite," Bashta said. 

He had wandered into the building one day while exploring the town on his own where he promptly found Raselie. Bashta admired her a lot; they worked together to help the sick kitlings side by side during the worst of the wait for the anti-serum. When she found out Bashta was interested in the books she started teaching him to read and was amazed at how fast he learned, devouring each lesson and learning more than she would have thought possible in just a week.

It helped distract him from the stress and worry of not knowing what was happening to his clan's lands. Every night he had nightmares, his dead crying out for vengeance. His claws had punctured more than one pillow. He was just thankful that he hadn't hurt Cavel. The wonder of the books and computers in the library were one of the few things keeping him sane.

He was only helping her with small chores and in the children's area but the kitlings all loved doing crafts with Bashta. He showed them how to weave grasses into mats and small baskets and the older children got lessons in carving. Some of the older younglings sat with him as they all worked on their reading skills. The best part of all to him was reading the baby books to the infants during their story time. Their chubby cheeks and bright eyes and happy giggles encouraged him to pick very happy books just to hear them again.

"I think that's what I want to do." Bashta turned his head from where it rested on his folded arms under his chin. His legs moved restlessly and pushed the sheet down even farther, exposing his ass.

Cavel was idly tracing designs on the bare skin of Bashta's back. They were lying in the bed, the glass doors wide open to let in a breeze to dry the sweat on their skin. He trailed his fingers down to the small of Bashta's back and chuckled a little when Bashta shivered.

"That tickles," Bashta complained as he turned over. His mate had been doing everything he could to distract him as well but they were both on edge most of the time. Not right then though.

Cavel rested his head on his hand and looked down at Bashta. 

"You're so hot." He leaned down and kissed Bashta then rubbed their cheeks together. Bashta ran his fingers over the line of spots along Cavel's neck. Cavel yawned.

"You're not so bad yourself," Bashta joked, "for an old guy."

"An old guy? An old guy!" Cavel looked outraged. Bashta started laughing when Cavel started poking him in the stomach. "Who are you calling old?" He slid a muscular thigh over Bashta's legs when he tried to squirm away, locking him in place. His mate was still built solid, his bulk more than enough to keep Bashta in place.

Bashta shivered as he thought of how it had felt when Cavel had rested all his weight on his back, pressing Bashta into the bed as he took him. He felt his dick stir and decided to take matters into his own hands, turn the tables a little on his dominant mate.

"First you complained about dinner being too late when you get home and now you're yawning and the sun hasn't even gone down yet!" Bashta wrestled for control and Cavel let him push him over and slide on top of him. Bashta slid his hands down Cavel's arms and pinned his wrists to the bed.

"If I remember right dinner was late because you wanted to take a shower with me and I'm tired because you woke me up early this morning."

"I didn't hear you complaining when you woke up and lifted the covers up to watch." Bashta looked down at Cavel and grinned.

"Hell no! I'm not now either," he gasped a little when Bashta wiggled, "Oh that's just mean."

"Hmm, are you sure you're up for it?" Bashta asked as he sat up, letting go of Cavel's wrists.

Cavel's hands instantly came up to Bashta's thighs and he lifted his hips, grinding against him, thrusting up hard enough to make Bashta gasp. "Oh, I'm sure."

"Not too tired?" Bashta leaned down and kissed Cavel, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and back out in one quick swipe. Cavel's hands tightened on his thighs.

"Hmmm... I'm never too tired when I'm touching you but... Cavel rolled them over and was leaning down to kiss Bashta when the phone rang. 

"Damn it!" he cursed, glaring at the phone on the bed table. "How about we just ignore that?" He leaned down and started licking and sucking on Bashta's chest. Pleasure surged through Bashta, feelings he still wasn't used to making him whimper as his erection throbbed.

"Shouldn't," Bashta gasped out. He was surprised he could even think enough to protest.

The phone stopped ringing.

"There, see?" Cavel said against his chest, "Now we can--"

This time Cavel's cell phone started ringing.

"Arrrgh." Cavel glared at it and then reluctantly climbed off the bed and strode over to his cell phone on the dresser. He picked up the offending object and hit the talk button without looking at the caller id.

"Hello," he snapped.

"Cavel?"

Cavel instantly straightened up as his eyes opened wide. "Velaku. Sorry. I, ah, I didn't expect to you to call this time of day."

Velaku chuckled a little. "Your mate keeping you busy?"

Cavel blushed and Bashta laughed quietly from the bed. He wasn't used to seeing his mate so easily embarrassed. Cavel glared at him while he answered Velaku. "A little."

"Your clan?"

"Much better. Everyone has been treated with the anti-serum. Dr. Waddel has several copies of his notes about the sickness and the antiserum in case something like this happens again. We're hoping that you can catch those involved so it won't; but we're prepared just in case."

"Good, good. I'm glad to hear things are going better and your kitlings are all better. That's something I need to talk to you about though."

"Do you have news for us?" Bashta pushed up on the bed to lean against the headboard and pulled his knees up to his chest. He was more than capable of hearing Velaku through the phone. Cavel moved over to sit on the side of the bed and put a hand on one of his knees. His stomach churned during the pregnant pause.

"I do. Davis came through and he found out who has been desecrating your mate's village. They were smugglers, looking for artifacts and treasure. It looks like this isn't the only place they've been hunting either."

Bashta closed his eyes, his head coming down to rest on Cavel's hand.

Cavel snarled and his voice was distorted. "Have they been caught?"

"No. They pulled out of the area and when he tracked them back here to the States he was forced to let them go when he found them to take care of something more important."

Bashta was staring at the wall with tears running down his cheeks silently. Cavel rubbed his knee as he tried to control his temper in vain.

"What in the hell could possibly be more important than this?" he snapped. "My clan came close to dying. Others might not be so fortunate. That god damned Snake--"

Velaku interrupted him with a cool voice, "He found a captive female with an infant kitling. Black jaguars."

Cavel was speechless. Bashta was staring at him and the phone with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. He'd been expecting a big battle, some sort of confrontation with the bad guys that they could use to assuage their pain and anger over the danger their clan had been in. Bashta needed some closure over the desecration of his village; it went beyond the pain at being the last of his clan. 

He felt cheated but... 

"Are they okay?" he asked quickly. Velaku heard him through the speaker.

"The kitling is. The female was feral. She died attacking the man who was holding them captive when Davis managed to set them free."

"Who was she?" Bashta whispered. He felt so bad for the kitling. He'd lost his own mother the same way and he still wasn't over the loss. How would the young jaguar cope with the loss of both their parents? When Velaku didn't hear him Cavel repeated the question.

"From what we could figure out, the mate of your mate's older brother."

Bashta was thunderstruck. He slumped back against the pillows in shock. He shook his head when Cavel looked at him. "I don't know," he mouthed. His mouth was dry and he swallowed convulsively. 

"Are you sure?" Cavel asked, his hand reaching for Bashta. Their fingers tangled together and Bashta held tight, the pressure making his knuckles go white.

"I can't be certain. Davis did find security tapes with footage of the other men involved in the smuggling. There are some images of a black jaguar. I can email them to you."

Bashta just nodded when Cavel looked at him. He had to know.

"We'll call you back."

Cavel went to get his laptop from downstairs while Bashta pulled on a pair of shorts. He waited anxiously while the computer booted up; he still wasn't ready to use the sleek black machine. Cavel pulled on a pair of sweats and then brought up the internet and his email. The email was already waiting and he took a deep breath and then clicked on it.

There were two attachments.

"You ready for this?" Cavel asked Bashta. Bashta nodded but laced their hands together again. He needed Cavel's strength and his mate gave it to him, sending him a wave of love through their bond. 

"Okay."

Cavel clicked on the files and opened them. The first one was a profile image; the black spots and jet black hair of an adult bonded black jaguar was easily recognizable. The man was tall but whipcord thin. It was the full facial shot in the second attachment that caught his attention.

"He looks just like me!" Bashta whispered in shock.

Cavel looked between him and the computer screen, comparing the man in the picture and the face of his mate who stared at it with a surprised look. Bashta reached out with one trembling finger and traced the curves and lines of the features that were so familiar looking. He saw them every day in the mirror.

"I think the Snake was right. This man has to be related to you, Bashta." Cavel wrapped an arm around Bashta. "Do you know who he is?"

Bashta shook his head. "I never knew my parents had any kitlings before my litter."

"Could they have and not said anything? Could he have gone missing?"

Bashta had tears in his eyes and his lips trembled. "I just don't know. But... a brother. I had a brother alive and I never knew."

He turned to Cavel in distress. "How could I have not known? Why didn't my mother tell me? I was so alone!" 

He began to sob, collapsing against the warm skin of Cavel's bare chest. Deep ragged cries shook his slim frame as he shed tears for the family he lost that he never knew he had. Time passed while Cavel gently held him and let him release the pain that tore at him until his shaking and the loud sobs began to quiet. 

Bashta could feel the love and reassurance through their mate bond but it took a long time for it to really sink in and make him remember that he wasn't so alone anymore.

Bashta finally turned his head at Cavel's gentle urging. He pushed the hair off his mate's face and kissed his forehead. "You'll never be alone again," Cavel reminded him.

"There is just so much I don't understand. It's so hard."

"I know, babe, but life isn't easy. You know that. You're a survivor. You lived when a lot of others would have given up and died. You stayed true to your family and your duty. You were brave enough to mate me and come here to save my clan; to start a new life with me in a world not your own.

"I can never say how grateful I am to you for all of that, how lucky I am to have such a brave mate. All I can do is promise that I will never leave you. I love you Bashta." Cavel opened completely to their bond and the pure shining devotion he sent made fresh tears come to Bashta's eyes.

"I'm the lucky one. Lucky to have met you and been captured by your men." Bashta sat up in Cavel's arms and wrapped his arms around Cavel's neck. "I knew you were special the moment I caught your scent in the jungle; you smelled like home and comfort and safety. It made me so angry that you smelled that good and made me want what I thought I couldn't have."

"All those things you wanted, a home, a family, love... they're yours. They have been since you dropped to the ground and glared at me like I was your worst enemy. I knew we were mates but I didn't know that I could love you so much." Cavel couldn't seem to help it; he leaned into Bashta and kissed him.

Their lips moved together, Cavel capturing Bashta's bottom lip and sucking on it gently, teasing him. Bashta moaned and his mouth parted. Cavel quickly slipped his tongue in the small gap to taste his mate, a warm sensual swipe with his tongue along the raspy top of Bashta's mouth and back over and over. Cavel continued to ravage Bashta's mouth until he had to pull back to gasp in a breath of air. 

They held each other, leaning their foreheads together and staring into each other's eyes. Bashta felt closer to Cavel than he ever had before. The shorts and sweats they had put on came off quickly and Cavel slipped inside him. 

They rocked together, their pace slow and steady. Bashta held tight to Cavel, needing the intimacy of his mate being buried inside him. His hands caressed Cavel's back as he urged his mate to rest more of his weight on him. He wanted to be blanketed by his body, comfort and pleasure all mixing together.

Cavel kept moving slowly and carefully until neither of them could take it anymore. His hips began thrusting harder but he didn't move any faster, keeping the same slow rhythm that slid the head of his dick past Bashta's prostate in a long glide. 

Cavel's roar as his climax claimed him was so primal. Bashta gasped and went rigid, his balls tight as he arched and shot between them. It was almost a full minute before they were able to relax. Cavel lay down next to him, pulling him into the circle of his arms.

"I never thought I would act like such a lovesick fool," Cavel whispered, "but you are more important to me than anyone else in the world."

Bashta pressed their lips together in a slow tender caress; the sensual kiss made Cavel shudder and pull him in tighter. Bashta sighed.

"I like that you're a lovesick fool."

***

Cavel held Bashta's hand on yet another flight. This time his mate wasn't medicated or focused on any sick kitlings so Cavel kept talking to him. He didn't want him to panic when they were in the air.

"What are we going to do about the baby?" Bashta asked. His claws kept coming out as he flexed his hands over and over. Cavel was surprised he hadn't punctured the arms of the seat with his free hand.

"Bring her home of course."

Bashta caressed Cavel's hand, trying to ease the red marks he had left when the plane took off. Cavel pulled his hand up and kissed his knuckles.

"You would do that for me?"

Cavel nodded simply, turning to face Bashta completely, capturing his mate's eyes. He had to make sure he knew exactly how he felt about the baby they were contemplating taking in. His mate deserved nothing less.

"Look, from all the evidence and, while not much, what we do have points almost conclusively to this unknown jaguar to being one of your siblings. That makes this baby your clan, your blood. You are a part of me and that makes her part of us and our clan."

Bashta reached for him and nestled his head into his neck. They snuggled for long moments, their bond as full as ever of their love for each as they went unvoiced but not unknown. 

"Tell me about these guys we are going to meet. You said he's a bird Carthera?"

"A Falcon actually. He's the leader of all the clans in this area. He was recently mated to a Lynx who was raised by a psychotic Jaguar who actually tried to kill them both."

Bashta blinked and shook his head. "When I was growing up the clans where I lived did not mix. Each to their own kind only. We lived more simply though."

"There isn't as much room here as you had in the jungle. Humans haven't encroached on the land where your clan lived as much either. Here, there has always been the battle for balance between the humans and the clans. In the times before the peace treaties the clans stayed close to each other for protection, though we fought a lot, of course."

The plane began to shake and Bashta whimpered as he grabbed Cavel's hand in a grip tight enough to make him wince. Cavel let him hold as tight as he needed to and rumbled soothingly, pulling Bashta a bit closer to him and under his arm. The plane leveled out and Bashta let out the breath he was holding.

"Just a little bit of turbulence folks," the pilot's voice washed through the plane, "and we might hit a bit more so please make sure your seat belts are fastened."

Bashta's free hand traced over the small bit of fabric, pulling it tighter. "I can't believe they expect me to believe this is going to keep me safe," he muttered.

"It's okay, babe. Planes are even safer than cars."

Bashta shook his head. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to the speed everyone travels at here."

Cavel rubbed his arm. "You'll get used to it, I promise. It is just going to take some time." He kissed Bashta softly on his temple. "We have plenty of that."

Bashta sighed and relaxed his grip on Cavel's poor hand, the red marks back darker than ever. "So the clans don't fight each other anymore?"

Cavel shrugged a little but went with the topic change; he knew Bashta just needed the distraction even if the subject wasn't ideal. 

"Not all out clan wars like used to happen in the past. There will always be dust ups and issues between certain types. Most Snakes are shunned if not killed as younglings; they are really different from other Carthera clans. The bird and cat clans have not always gotten along well together but since Velaku and Natham mated things have been more settled. The main difficulties come from the more canine clans which can be very dominance focused.

"My father had great respect for Velaku's father. The man held the clans together and did so without trying to control all of us. He listened and helped us form a unique group. Not all the territories are so peaceful or cooperative. Of course, someone killed him and tried to kill Velaku so not everyone is happy with how things are run."

The plane shook a bit and then dropped. Bashta's face went white and he clawed at his seat belt and Cavel, trying to get farther into his arms. Cavel snarled and glared at the pilot's cabin. He knew it wasn't the man's fault but damn, he wanted to beat him for making his mate upset.

"We'll be there soon."

Bashta held onto him and grimaced. "My stomach hurts."

Cavel held up an arm and the stewardess sitting at the front of first class came over to them. 

"Can I help you sir?"

"Yes, can we get a bottle of ginger ale please? My mate isn't feeling so well."

"Of course sir. I think we still have some crackers." She looked at Bashta and smiled calmly. "Would you care for some of those, sir?"

Bashta grimaced. 

"They're better than throwing up," Cavel said. Bashta hadn't liked them earlier, the dry texture of the crackers being too salty and unpleasant for him. He knew Bashta would be embarrassed if he got sick though.

Bashta sighed. "Yes, thank you."

Armed with the soothing drink and the dry crackers to settle his roiling stomach Bashta leaned against Cavel. He took small bites and sips. He closed his eyes.

"Better?" Cavel asked.

"Yes."

"Why don't you take a short nap? We've about an hour until we land and we didn't really get any sleep last night."

Bashta yawned. "I might be able to do that."

Cavel caressed him, swirling his fingers in a gentle petting that made Bashta rumble in contentment. His head leaned down and rested against Cavel's shoulder. His eyes slowly closed at Cavel stroked his head and ears, sending his body into a peaceful doze. Cavel closed his eyes after his mate's breathing became slow and regular. Sleep was slow in coming but it eventually overtook him and he settled against his mate.




Two of a Kind Ch. 07



***

"It's nice to meet you Bashta." 

Velaku extended his hand.

Bashta kept glancing at the Falcon's snowy white wings with crimson tips. He carefully shook Velaku's hand, noticing the sharp talons on the small man's fingers. He wasn't as large as his mate but even he towered over the leader of the clans in the western territory. Bashta saw absolute assurance of himself in his eyes though, and lowered his gaze.

"Um, you too."

The small falcon moved on. "Cavel. Always a pleasure."

"Likewise Velaku. Will we be meeting your mate? I have heard... interesting things about Natham. I've been looking forward to meeting him."

"Looks like you get your wish." A deep voice belonging to a large cat Carthera with long dark hair startled them when he entered the room. He walked over to Velaku and wrapped his arms around the small man. He kissed his neck before he turned to smile at Bashta and Cavel.

Velaku patted the man's arm. "Natham, this is Cavel and Bashta."

"Nice to meet you both."

Bashta stared at Natham. The man was golden all over except for his long, dark hair and eyes. He should have looked strange standing against the small pale Velaku but he didn't. They were mates and something about the two of them was just right. Bashta knew from their earlier talks that Cavel could see on the surface why some of the clans had issues with the pair but he wasn't one of them. 

He would keep an open mind as well.

"You too. Thank you, for helping us with this. I know this has been an unsettled time for your clan."

Velaku waved his hand dismissively. "You know how worried we were about your clan and how sick they were. I wish we could have helped before this but finding those who were responsible was the right thing to do, for everyone."

Velaku pulled away from his mate and moved to some chairs, gesturing for everyone to sit down.

"I'm sorry we weren't able to find them before your brother and his mate were harmed. We already gave our doctor the medicine you brought and the instructions from your Dr. Waddel for the kitling."

Bashta's ears twitched at the mention of the young jaguar he was supposed to be related to. "Thank you. We weren't sure if she was sick but thought it best to be prepared and the doctor said that dosing her if she wasn't sick wouldn't hurt her."

"Is The Snake here?" Cavel asked.

"No. Urgent business of his own came up and he's unable to be here for this meeting. There isn't much more he could say that we haven't already discussed over the phone. He did leave something for you though."

Velaku picked up a book off his desk. It was black with a silver scroll work across the cover. He handed it over to Bashta.

"What is this?"

Velaku settled back in his chair. "We don't really know. It was found in the same cell as the kitling and the mother."

Bashta closed his eyes. The fact that she lost her parents the same way as he did affected him almost more than the fact the kitling was his only blood kin in the world. He didn't want anyone to feel the pain and loneliness he had felt.

"The book has writing in it but nothing we could read. I was considering having a specialist look at it but I wanted to get Bashta's permission first." Velaku took a sip of the water his assistant had gotten for him.

Bashta's fingers lightly stroked the warm leather cover. He traced the silver leaves that decorated the front and he bit his lip before looking up at Cavel with wary eyes.

"Open it. If you can't read it we can always ask Velaku's specialist to research it."

Bashta knew he was right but the idea of touching something his brother, a brother he'd never known he had, was surreal. His hand trembled slightly as he gingerly flipped open the front cover. His sharp teeth worried at his bottom lip and he squinted at the page. He touched the page here and there, his mouth moving silently. All three of the other men in the room watched him. His finger began to tremble and he pulled it off the page. His eyes were flicking over the black script faster and faster.

"Can you read it?" Natham asked in his rumbling voice. "Bashta?"

Bashta didn't appear to hear him. He flipped the page and his eyes widened as he gasped.

"Bashta!" Cavel reached out and shook his shoulder a little.

Bashta jerked a little and then looked up, his eyes unfocused. He blinked a few times and then looked at Cavel. Tears began streaming down his face. "I can read it."

"His name was Djavan. He was my brother. According to this he left the year my litter was born with his mate."

"You can really read that?" Velaku asked this time.

"Yes. It's a language used in our clan. A mix of symbols and words like your English language." Bashta looked up. "Why didn't I know about him? Where were his litter mates?"

"If he was your parent's eldest then he wouldn't have had any," Natham said. "Cat Carthera only have one kitling in the first litter, much like most human pregnancies."

"Why didn't you say tell me that?" Bashta looked up at Cavel. "I told you I had littermates. Why didn't you question why I didn't have an older brother?"

"I didn't think about it, honestly. Any mention of your family was so painful for you; I didn't want to add to that." Cavel looked over at Bashta. "I would never have guessed that you had a brother alive out in the world somewhere.

"What else does the book say? Does it have any information about what happened or the men involved?"

Bashta looked back down at the page, tapping a mark here and there. "This early stuff is just about my family. He argued with my father. He felt that the modern world was beginning to make itself felt in the jungle," Bashta paused and looked up, "and he was right too. Over the years we saw more and more humans in our area of the jungle. We used to be able to travel for more than a week in any direction and not see the end of the rain forest. When we left it took just a few days. I saw more and more humans. 

"He believed that we needed to learn to coexist with the humans to protect our sacred places. We couldn't hide forever. He doesn't say what finally made him leave but he took his mate and left after he was sure that my parents had another heir to lead the clan and be alpha. I can't believe that. They were so young, just my age when I was left after I was born."

"Can you skip to the end? See if he said anything about the smugglers or their operation?"

Bashta flipped to the end of the book and began rifling back through the pages.

There was a knock at the door.

Natham stood up to answer the door, turning back around with a large tray in his hands. "I asked Velaku's mother have some brunch prepared for us. Airplane food is close enough to cardboard to be inedible and you must be hungry. We haven't eaten yet so I thought we could all breakfast together."

"That looks good, Natham. Thank you, my mate." Velaku cleared some space from his desk for Natham to put the tray down."Remind me to thank her later." 

Natham smiled back at him and nodded. 

"Bashta, do you want to eat?"

Bashta was reading intently and he barely looked up. "Just save me something please."

Cavel, Velaku, and Natham made quiet conversation about their clans and at the variety of foods available as they ate. Natham and Cavel ate more of the breakfast meat while Velaku savored the succulent melon and berries available along with the whole grain toast.

About a half hour later another knock at the door pulled Bashta from his intense reading. His nose twitched. "Chocolate?"

Cavel laughed. "I see your nose is working just as well as ever." He looked at the other men in the room. "He loves anything with chocolate in it." 

Bashta blushed and shrugged. His nose was more sensitive than many of his new clan's; he was too used to relying on his senses to survive and paid more attention than they did. It wasn't always a good thing; many things in the modern world did not smell good but he loved chocolate. The flavor and the smell.

This time Velaku answered the door.

"I thought your guests could use something sweet, dear."

Cavel and Bashta both stood when Elalera moved into the room. The woman was small as all bird Carthera were but she held herself upright with the dignity of the wife and mother of the Falcon leader, both old and new and seemed taller for it. She passed Natham the tray with four cups of steaming hot chocolate. The rich smell filled the room and Bashta couldn't help but take a deep breath and sigh.

"Thank you, my lady." Cavel bowed over the hand Elalera held out to him and kissed it. She blushed and laughed a little.

"You are entirely too smooth for your own good," she said with a smile. "It's a good thing you are mated."

"I think my mate likes you better than me right now anyway." They all laughed at Bashta who had already picked up his cup and was taking a cautious sip and then savored the rich chocolate and cinnamon flavor. An ecstatic look crossed his face and his eyes sprang open as he looked at Elalera.

"This is wonderful!"

She reached up and patted his cheek. "Thank you my dear. I make it from scratch. I'll make sure you get the recipe before you leave."

His beaming smile caught everyone by surprise as he grabbed Velaku's mother in a hug. "Thank you!"

Cavel chuckled. "Like I said, he really likes his chocolate."

"Well I'll leave you gentlemen to your business. I think someone needs me right about now anyway." A cry from a young one could be heard faintly in the room with the door open. Bashta's breath hitched a little and he jerked, looking out at the hallway. Elalera squeezed his arm.

"I'm taking very good care of her."

He bit his lip and took a deep breath. It was hard but he restrained the urge to leave in search of the kitling that made that sound.

The men remained standing until Elalera left the room and then sat back down. Bashta drank his chocolate and ate some of the food Cavel saved for him as he told them about what he read. Filling his stomach eased a bit of the nervous nausea he was feeling. 

"Basically they were looking for the Temple. The humans who were holding Djavan's family hostage wanted him to lead them there so they could steal the treasures in the offering rooms. Djavan's intentions were to lead them into the rainforest and then have our clan force them to release his pregnant mate.

"He... Well, his reaction to the village was horrible," Bashta refused to close his eyes, knowing he'd just see the last glimpse he had of the empty village, full of plague and death, "and that's just what he wrote on paper. He tried to lead the humans away when he saw the signs but all they saw was a chance to loot. They forced him into the village. He had to watch as they pawed over the dead bodies of people he had known and stole anything they thought they could sell to collectors."

Bashta couldn't help but tense speaking of such a thing was even harder than reading it. He knew it had to have happened but it was just very immediate with the words being written and spoken. Cavel rubbed his shoulder and urged him to drink a bit more of his cocoa. Bashta knew Cavel hated it when he was upset but as much as it hurt to read his brother's journal it might have answers they needed. 

He was the only one who could.

When Bashta calmed down a little he went on.

"He didn't get sick right away but by the time they came back to the United States he was showing signs of the fever and coughing. They forced him to return to the jungle about two weeks after they returned, this time to find the Temple. He never got to see his mate or their newborn daughter. He wrote that he would have refused even if the humans had allowed; he knew what the plague markers around the village meant. He was going to die. He did bribe one guard to slip this book into his wife." 

Bashta blushed a little. "The last few pages were private messages for her."

"Was there anything about who was behind all of this?"

"He only mentions humans. He was forced to submit to them when they grabbed his pregnant mate from a doctor's appointment while he was at work. He couldn't risk her life or that of their unborn kitling." Bashta looked sad as he stared at the door, remembering that faint wail earlier. 

"Turns out he lost them both anyway."

Velaku leaned forward and put his hand over the one clenched on Bashta's thigh next to him. "Losing a parent is hard and losing both is tragic. I know how much pain you must carry with you. But your niece will have you; she will still have family, a clan. She will have parents and love."

"You're right. I just can't understand why people do this. Why do humans hate us so much?"

Natham spoke up. "It's not just humans, there are good and bad Carthera just as there are people. Was there anything in your brother's book about who was in charge? David killed a few guards to get in to the building and your brother's mate killed the man outside her cell but they were all killed too fast to question."

"I just skimmed it really." 

Bashta ran a hand through his hair as he tried to think. 

"I do remember one thing that stood out. He said that he overheard a phone call one day when the humans left the small slot in his cell door open. He said the humans seemed very afraid and the voice over the phone sounded strange and he could hear animal sounds in the background but unlike anything he'd ever heard before."

Velaku looked thoughtful. "Your brother probably wasn't exposed to that many different clans as a loner. He might not have recognized the sound of the voice if he didn't know the type of animal the Carthera was."

Natham nodded. "Davis did say he thought that a Carthera had to be behind this. There were artifacts in that building that weren't just from the Jaguar clans. They are targeting holy places to the clans, places that no outsiders would know. Temples, ancient worship halls, hidden villages... no human would be trusted with that knowledge, much less from the four clans we found that had artifacts stolen from them. It has to be someone who is close to many clans in order to still be concealed from discovery."

Cavel raised an eyebrow. "You think this went beyond what Bashta's brother knew?"

Velaku stood up and paced around the office a little. "I do. I don't want to seem paranoid but I've wondered if we managed to catch all of the Carthera involved in plotting my father's murder. There have been other things happening to clans in my territory that don't seem significant when taken alone, but all together?" he shook his head, "I just have this feeling there is something we are missing."

"Or someone."

Natham stood up and stopped Velaku in his pacing. "That may be true but we can't see it right now. We have to wait until we have more evidence and a direction to investigate. We have done all we can right for the time being."

Cavel nodded his head. "My clan has only prospered under your family's rule." 

He stood and held his fist to his chest in salute to Velaku. "You helped my clan and dealt with the Snake so that my people would be safe. You eliminated the danger to us from the artifacts from Bashta's village and you have cared for his niece in your own home. If you ever have need, call on me. Anything my clan or I can do to help will be done." 

Bashta hurried to stand beside him and copy his stance. "My mate speaks for both of us."

Velaku saluted him back. "Thank you, my friend."

There was a moment of silence. Very faintly a cry was heard through the closed door and Bashta's ear twitched.

Natham smiled at Bashta. "I would guess you'd like to see your niece now."

Bashta took a deep breath and nodded. "I think I'm ready."

Velaku led the pair deeper into the house to the personal living space areas.

"I'm sorry Natham couldn't join us, he was scheduled for another modified Jintue lesson with Dorvan. My best friend, Alseliol found his mate and bonded as well so they can take turns replacing me for the lesson. We've found the combination of our fighting styles, cat and falcon, is particularly lethal."

Cavel looked impressed.

"Bashta has been showing us his techniques for guerrilla style fighting when time allows. He's almost impossible to spot when he actually tries to blend in with the natural environment; it's eerie."

Velaku looked at Bashta with a thoughtful expression. "That may be useful. Perhaps we should consider pairing our fighters for some cross training. Now that my clan has seen just how much more effective Natham and I are we might be able to get the more conservative warriors on board. Then Bashta could teach our men at the same time."

Cavel looked over at Bashta, who shrugged. "I'm willing to help however I can. If there is someone out there, some unknown Carthera plotting against the clans here, it would be good to be able to work together. The easiest way to defeat an enemy is to isolate him."

Velaku nodded. "Very true. I will make sure to bring that point up at the next council meeting." He paused outside a door and Bashta was suddenly extremely nervous. Cavel wrapped his arm around him.

"Ready?"

Bashta took a deep breath and nodded.

Velaku opened the door and the first thing Bashta saw was a small body on hands and knees on a soft rug. The baby was playing with a soft block and her long black hair hung in ringlets almost to the floor. When her chubby little face turned toward them Bashta fell against Cavel as his knees gave out.

***

Cavel held up his mate as he stared in shock at the little baby sitting on a fuzzy rug on the floor.

Tears streamed down his face and he rubbed at his eyes to clear them. He didn't speak as he continue to stare, mesmerized by the little girl. Cavel rubbed his back and soothed him with a deep rumble in his chest. He began to get worried when it felt like Bashta wasn't breathing.

"Bashta?"

Bashta didn't answer Cavel, barely blinking as he stared into space with a frown. Cavel could feel the same sadness that had permeated Bashta since they mated, but blanketing their bond was a profound sense of shock.

"Bashta, what is it?" Cavel shook his shoulder a little and Bashta finally blinked and drew in a quick breath before letting it out in a small sob. He shuddered and then pulled away from Cavel to drop to his knees a few feet from the solemn baby. The two of them seemed to be ignoring everything and everyone around them.

Suddenly the kitling crawled over to Bashta and began patting his arm as she babbled nonsense at him. Bashta held out his hand and she pulled herself up onto her feet while clutching the slender fingers with both of her chubby little hands. When he scooped her up and pulled her into his chest and began rocking her, she cooed and grabbed his shirt in a firm grip to snuggle in even closer. Velaku, Elalera, and Cavel just watched the intimate scene that was so clearly a reunion of two family members, even if they had never met before.

Elalera moved slowly to avoid disturbing Bashta who was singing under his breath in a strange language to his niece. He dropped kisses on her head and spoke to her in broken whispers. The baby's eyes closed and her small body went limp.

Wordlessly, Elalera urged Cavel forward as she and Velaku stepped back and moved away to give them some space.

Cavel took a step toward his mate and the beautiful baby he had snuggled in his arms. He sat down behind Bashta and gathered his mate into his embrace. He slid his hands down Bashta's arms and together they held the baby that already meant so much to both of them.

For a moment Cavel didn't realize Bashta was speaking to him.

"She looks like my sister Velli," he said in a broken whisper.

"She does?" Cavel used one hand to gently smooth the curls back from her face. Her little rosebud mouth opened and shut a few times as her lips smacked together and her eyelids quivered at the touch before settling back into sleep with a small sigh.




Two of a Kind Ch. 07



She had a cat scent overlaid with a sweetness he'd never smelled from his clan's infants before.

"Her eyes are just like Velli's. Shiny and black like obsidian with those long dark lashes so thick they look like her eyes are smudged all around with soft black charcoal." She was a beautiful little girl. Cavel couldn't take his eyes off of her and when he touched her hand all he could do was stroke the skin that was softer than anything he had ever felt.

He didn't know how long they sat just staring at her.

"She's perfect," Cavel whispered. "Do you know her name?"

"Caliopa." At the sound of her name her little eyes blinked open and she smiled up at them. She snuggled back into Bashta's chest. 

"What does that mean?" Cavel continued to stroke her hand and she let go of Bashta's shirt and grabbed his finger. "Oh, she's strong," he marveled. Her fingers clutched at his and he felt a wave of tenderness.

"Beautiful. Her name means beautiful."

"Hmm, it fits." Cavel rested his head on Bashta's shoulder. Together they held the baby that already felt like a part of them. Cavel would do anything in his power to keep her safe. With one touch of her hand she had touched his heart.

Bashta leaned his head back and turned to look at Cavel's profile. "Can we take her home?"

"Yes." Cavel turned his head to kiss his mate tenderly on the mouth. He pulled back and smiled. "Let's go right now." He stood and carefully helped Bashta up, steering him for the door.

Bashta let him lead the way, glancing down frequently to the sleepy kitling. "Velaku won't be upset?"

Cavel shook his head. "No. The need to bond with her is biological. He will understand."

Bashta frowned. "I don't just want her because it's biological. I love her already, Cavel. She is my blood."

Cavel soothed him with a hand on his back. They stood just outside the door, the blue sky stretching out in front of the cliff face eyrie bringing out the bluish highlights in his mate and the kitling's hair. The warm wind shifted her heavy curls and she shivered.

Cavel turned so he blocked the breeze, brushing the soft hair back from the beautiful face. He knew exactly what Bashta meant. "I know, love. I didn't mean it like that, I love her too. I just want to be together at home with our new kitling. She may not be our own child together but already she's ours.

"I want to spend some time alone as a family with you and Caliopa. Then I want to introduce our new family to our clan."

Bashta leaned up and kissed Cavel back. "That sounds perfect. I love you."

"I love you too."

The End.

Story TBC in the Snake's story, Hypnotic.