his to keep — caleb
synopsis: when caleb brings you home to his tribe, the primal desire to claim becomes something neither of you can escape.
tags: nsfw, explicit sexual content, ice planet barbarians-inspired AU, human/monster romance, fated mates, jealousy, mutual obsession, hand feeding, possessive behavior, hurt/comfort, jealousy, men crying, size difference, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, premature ejaculation, breeding kink, cum play, creampie, happy ending
wc: 12.5k — part 3/3 (22.4k total) | ao3
a/n: oh to be loved by himbo barbarian caleb!! if u made it this far—hiii, fellow freak ;) ily ty so so much for reading!!!
part one | part two
part three — forever
Caleb is already moving around the cave at dawn, gathering weapons and supplies with singular focus. There’s a tension in his shoulders you haven’t seen before—anticipation mixed with something darker.
Today. He’s hunting the creature today.
“Savi,” he says when he notices you’re awake. He comes to kneel beside you, cupping your face in both hands. “Come with Caleb. Must come.”
The thought of leaving the cave—it’s safety, it’s warmth, it’s familiarity—sends a chill down your spine.
“What? No, I’ll stay here—”
“Lev.” His expression is firm. “Savi must come. Khui must be…fresh. Quick.” He makes a motion like inserting something into his neck, then points at you. “Savi there. Close. Important.”
Your stomach drops. He needs you there when he kills it. To immediately put that thing inside you while it’s still…alive? Fresh?
“Caleb, I can’t just—leave.” You shake your head violently. “I don’t have any clothes. You burned them, remember?”
He blinks, then his expression shifts to something almost smug. “Caleb make savi clothes. Wait—Caleb show.”
He moves to a corner of the cave where you haven’t paid much attention and pulls out several items. When he brings them over, you realize they’re garments—carefully crafted from soft leather.
“Caleb work every night,” he says, almost shy. “While savi sleep. Want make good clothes. Warm clothes. Soft clothes for savi.”
He hands you the first piece—pants, you realize. Soft leather with careful stitching, sized for your smaller frame. They’re actually well-made, the seams even and strong.
“This too.” He presents to you a tunic-style top, also leather, with long sleeves and a tie at the neck. It’s simple but functional—and, honestly, kind of stylish.
You take them, surprised by the care that went into making them. “Caleb, these are—wow. Thank you.”
“More.” He hands you something else, and you stare.
It’s—underwear.
Soft, supple leather shaped unmistakably like panties. And at the front, he’s attached a small decorative bow made from a thin strip of braided leather.
“No.” Your face burns. “No, you didn’t.”
“Savi had before.” He points at the bow. His expression is completely earnest. “Is right? Caleb make correct?”
You don’t know whether to laugh or die of embarrassment. He recreated your underwear from memory. With a bow. Because that’s what they had before.
“It’s…yes,” you confirm with a smile. “You made them correctly.”
His whole face brightens with pride. “Good. Caleb want savi to have good clothes. Pretty clothes. Like savi had.”
Through your mortification, something in your chest warms. He spent his nights—while you slept—carefully crafting clothing for you. Trying to recreate what you’d had. Including the completely impractical decorative bow.
“Help savi put on?” he offers.
“I can dress myself—”
“Please?” He asks, eyes hopeful. “Caleb make for savi. Want see if fit right. Want make sure comfortable.”
You suspect he just wants an excuse to touch you, but the genuine joy in his expression makes you relent. “Fine. You can help.”
His whole face brightens.
He picks up the leather underwear first—the ones with the little bow—and kneels in front of you. "Step," he says softly.
You grip his shoulder for balance as he guides your feet through the leg holes, one at a time. His hands are careful as he slides the leather up your legs, his fingers skimming your calves, your thighs. When he reaches your hips, he adjusts the fit with gentle tugs, making sure it sits right.
"Good?" he asks, looking up at you. Kneeling like that, attentive and waiting, he looks almost obedient. The sight sends a small, illicit spark through you that you like more than you should.
"Yes. It fits."
He runs his thumbs along the waistband, checking it, and his gaze drops to the little bow at the front. Something possessive flashes in his eyes. "Pretty," he murmurs. "Like before. Caleb remember."
You shift, suddenly too aware of his hand placement, of the smooth claws grazing the sensitive skin underneath the fabric. You clear your throat, forcing your voice steady. "The pants."
He picks them up and holds them open. You step into them, and again his hands guide the leather up your legs. This time he's even more careful, his palms smoothing over your thighs, your hips, making sure nothing bunches or pinches.
When he fastens them at your waist, his fingers brush against your stomach, and you feel his khui pulse harder in response.
"Turn," he says quietly.
You turn, and his hands adjust the fit in the back, tugging the leather into place. Then his palms slide around to your stomach, checking the front again, and he pulls you back slightly against him.
"Perfect," he breathes. "Fit perfect."
You can feel the heat of him, the way his breathing has changed. The way his hands don't quite want to let go.
"The top," you remind him.
He releases you reluctantly and retrieves the tunic. "Arms up."
You raise your arms, and he slides the leather over your head, carefully guiding your arms through the sleeves. His hands smooth down the fabric, adjusting it over your shoulders, your chest, your waist. Every touch is deliberate, thorough, and far longer than necessary.
When he ties the laces at your throat, his fingers trail down your neck. He's standing so close you can feel his breath, can see the darkness in his eyes.
"Good?" you whisper.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, voice rough. “Savi look perfect. Caleb clothes look good on savi.”
“They fit perfectly,” you agree, then hesitate. “Caleb, how did you know my size?”
“Caleb…look. When savi sleep. To make sure make right fit. Caleb touch—little bit.” He says it like a confession. “Just to make clothes fit.”
The admission sends heat through your core. You imagine him in the darkness, his hands carefully measuring your body while you slept. Learning every curve, every dimension, every inch. Committing it all to memory.
His breathing has changed, and you can tell he's thinking about it, too, evident in the hard length pressing against you through the minimal coverings that sit low on his hips.
He notices you've noticed, and starts to step back. "Sorry. Caleb not mean—just thinking about—about touching savi and—"
But you don't let him retreat. Your hands find his arms, keeping him near.
"It's okay," you say softly, looking up at him. "The clothes are perfect. You did such a good job."
His eyes darken, searching your face. "Caleb good?"
Instead of answering, you cup his face in both hands and pull him down for a kiss.
He makes a surprised sound against your mouth, but he catches on quickly. His lips move with yours, confident now from practice, and his hands come to your waist, holding you steady. You pour everything into it—gratitude for the clothes, for his patience, for the way he cares for you without demanding anything in return.
"Thank you," you whisper once the two of you finally pull apart. "Really. For all of this. The clothes are beautiful."
He doesn't speak. Just nuzzles into your palm, his eyes closing briefly. Then he turns his head and presses a kiss to the center of your hand, the gesture so tender it makes your heart ache.
"Anything for savi," he finally murmurs. "Everything for savi."
His smile is radiant. Then he reaches back into his corner and pulls out one more thing—a heavy fur cloak, lined with the softest hide you’ve seen yet, with a matching hat and mittens.
“For outside. Keep savi warm.” He wraps you up in everything like you’re a present, fastening the cloak securely at your throat. “There. Now savi ready.”
You touch the cloak, stunned by how soft it is, how warm. “Caleb, this must have taken—”
“Many nights. Many hours," he admits. He holds both of your hands in his. “But worth it. Savi worth everything. Worth every moment Caleb work to make savi comfortable. Safe. Warm.”
Your throat tightens. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say savi will stay close to Caleb today. Stay safe. Let Caleb protect while Caleb hunt.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “Say savi trust Caleb.”
“I trust you.”
He frowns. “Caleb.”
“I trust you, Caleb,” you whisper with a smile, and realize you mean it.
His eyes close briefly, and through the resonance you feel his overwhelming relief and joy. “Good. Then we go. Caleb get khui for savi. Make savi able to survive here. Make savi—” He hesitates. “Make savi able to stay with Caleb forever.”
“Forever?”
“Yes.” He says it with complete certainty. “Caleb not let savi go. Not let savi leave. Not let anything happen to savi. Forever.”
You’re quiet for a moment. Forever is a long time. But the prospect doesn’t scare you as much as it did just a few days ago.
“What does savi mean?” You ask, desperate to change the subject. “You keep calling me that.”
“Savi.” He touches your face gently. “Means ‘reason to be strong.’ The one who make male want to be better. Want to fight harder. Want to—” He struggles for words, wanting to convey the meaning as accurately as possible. “Want to become worthy.”
“Worthy?”
“Yes. Savi is the one male look at and think—must protect. Must provide for. Must be stronger, better, fiercer.” His hand moves to rest over his heart. “Is name Caleb choose for you. Is…Caleb’s word. For savi only.”
Your breath catches. You can’t help but reach for his hand, holding it between both of yours as he continues explaining.
“Before savi, Caleb just exist. Just hunt, just live. But now—” His eyes are intense, locked onto yours with a pull that’s magnetic, impossible to escape. “Now Caleb have reason. Have purpose. Must be strong enough to keep savi safe. Must be good enough to deserve savi. Must be everything savi need.”
The words land heavy in your chest.
You see it so clearly—the way he orients around you, the way his attention never strays far, how every decision bends toward your safety. How he would put himself in harm’s way without a second thought if it meant you stayed untouched. And instead of comfort, guilt coils tight in your stomach.
"You shouldn't have to do all that," you say, frustration bleeding into your voice. "Work so hard just to keep me alive. Watch over me when you could be doing other things. I'm—I'm useless here. Just a burden."
“No!” He says it instantly, fiercely, squeezing your hands with conviction. “Savi not weak. Savi is strong. Brave. Survive crash. Survive trap. Survive everything.” He cups your face in both hands. “Savi is strong one. But savi make Caleb want to be stronger. Make Caleb want to be best male. Best mate. Best protector. Understand?”
You look up at him—this alien male who hunts for you, makes clothes for you, burns your things to keep you safe. Who looks at you like you hung the stars and the moon and the sun. Who chose a name for you that means reason to be strong.
You nod, throat tight. “I think so.”
“Savi is Caleb’s reason to become more than Caleb was before. This why is perfect name. This why Caleb choose it.” He presses his forehead to yours. “You make Caleb want be worthy. Want be enough. Want be everything savi need. Forever.”
The word doesn't sound as terrifying as it did before. Not when it's spoken like a promise instead of a threat. Not when you're starting to understand that maybe—maybe you don't want to imagine a forever without him either.
When did that happen? When did this possessive, intense, slightly unhinged alien become someone you want? Someone whose touch you crave? Someone whose devotion doesn't feel suffocating but... safe?
You think of the kisses. Of how natural it felt to pull him close instead of pushing him away. Of how your body responds to his presence now—not with fear, but with something warmer. Something that feels dangerously close to—
No. Not yet. Too soon to name it. But it's there, growing and insistent and undeniable.
Forever could be worse, you decide. So much worse.
“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s go get this khui thing.”
His smile could light up the entire cave.
He helps you into boots he’s also made—fur-lined and soft—then secures his hunting weapons. Before you leave, he pulls you close for one last kiss.
“Savi stay close. Very close. Caleb not let anything hurt savi. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good.” He presses his forehead to yours briefly before kissing each of your cheeks. “Caleb protect savi. Always protect savi.”
He crouches down, gesturing for you to climb onto his back.
“Caleb carry. Savi safe.”
You climb onto his back, and his hands secure your thighs against his sides. The position is intimate, your body pressed along the length of his spine, but it’s also surprisingly stable.
“Hold tight,” he instructs, and then you're off.
—
He runs across the frozen landscape with impossible speed and grace, never stumbling, never slipping on ice. You cling to him, face buried against his shoulder, feeling the powerful flex of his muscles with each stride.
The journey takes hours. The landscape becomes increasingly desolate—jagged ice formations, deep crevasses, areas where the thermal vents have created strange, twisted patterns in the frozen ground.
Finally, he slows.
He finds a sheltered outcropping of ice and carefully sets you down. “Savi stay here,” he says firmly, pointing at the ground. “Not move. Understand? Lev move.”
“Where are you—”
“Caleb hunt.” He touches your face, his expression intense. “Stay. Safe here. Caleb return soon.”
Then he’s gone, disappearing into the maze of ice with his bone blade drawn.
You huddle in the furs, waiting. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the whistle of wind through the ice formations.
Then you hear it.
A roar that shakes the ground beneath you. The sound of something massive and angry. The clash of combat—Caleb’s shouts, the creature’s screams, two beasts warring for dominance in the snow.
You should stay put. He told you to stay. But what if he needs help? What if—
Your thoughts are interrupted by another roar, closer this time. The sound of something large moving fast.
Too fast.
You see it before you can react—a massive creature, all teeth and claws and armored hide, barreling around the ice formation. It’s wounded, bleeding from multiple gashes, and its eyes lock on you.
Easy prey.
You scramble backward, but your foot catches on the fur. You fall hard against the ice outcropping, and there’s a sickening crack.
Pain explodes through your side. Your ribs. Something’s broken.
The creature charges.
You can’t breathe, can’t move, can only watch death approach—
Until Caleb materializes from nowhere.
He places himself between you and the creature, and the sound he makes is nothing short of unbridled, feral rage. The fight is brutal and fast. The creature is huge and powerful, but Caleb is fueled by something beyond strength. The need to protect. To save his mate.
To save you.
He drives his blade into the creature’s throat, dodging its death throes, and when it finally collapses, he’s already turning to you.
“Savi!” He drops beside you, hands hovering over your body. “Hurt. Where hurt?”
“My—ah—my side,” you gasp. Even breathing is agony. “I fell—I think my ribs—”
His face goes pale. His hands probe your side gently, and when you cry out, his expression twists with anguish.
“Broken,” he mutters. Then he looks at the dead creature, at you, and something shifts in his eyes. A decision is made. “Khui heal. Must give khui now.”
Your heart lurches. You knew this was coming—wanted it, even, when you were safe in the cave and it was all abstract. But now, faced with the reality of having something alien implanted in your body—
“No—wait—I’m not ready—”
He’s already moving to the creature, his blade cutting into its throat without second thought. He reaches inside and pulls out something that makes your stomach turn—a small, slug-like thing that pulses with bioluminescent light.
The khui.
It's alive. Writhing slightly in his palm, glowing from within.
That's going to go inside you.
“Please, savi,” he says, returning to you with the thing cradled in his palm. “You die without. Khui heal. Make strong.” His voice cracks. “Caleb not lose savi. Not now. Not ever.”
"I know, I just—" Panic is rising in your throat. "Give me a minute, please—"
“You die,” he repeats, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Broken inside. Already bleeding. Caleb feel it.” His hand hovers over your side. “Please. Trust Caleb.”
You look at his face—the desperation there, the love, the absolute terror of losing you. You do trust him. But that doesn't make this less terrifying.
"Will it hurt?" you whisper.
"Yes." He doesn't lie to you. "But fast. Then khui heal. Make better. Make savi survive."
Your vision is starting to blur at the edges. The pain in your side is getting worse, spreading. Maybe you really are dying.
Maybe you don't have a choice.
"Okay," you breathe. "Okay, but—Caleb—"
"Yes?" He leans closer, desperate.
“Don't let go of me,” you plead. “While you do it. Please don't let go.”
His expression crumbles with relief and something like love. "Never let go. Never. Caleb hold savi. Keep safe. Always."
He positions the khui near your throat. Then he tilts your head back, and before you can scream, he makes a thin slice against the side of your neck, pressing the khui firmly inside the wound.
“Shh, shh,” he soothes, even as you thrash weakly. “I know. I know, savi. Almost done. Almost…”
The sensation is violating and wrong—something foreign burrowing into your skin, into your flesh. You fight him, trying to push away, but he holds you steady with one arm while his other hand keeps the khui in place.
“Forgive Caleb.”
You close your eyes and hold onto him.
And trust.
—
Caleb runs.
His savi is cradled against his chest, wrapped in every fur he owns. The khui is inside her now—he felt the moment it took hold, the instant they resonated—but she hasn't woken.
Two days. Two days of her sleeping while the khui does its work, healing her broken ribs, integrating with her body, preparing her for the bond.
Two days of him hunting, providing, watching over her with increasing desperation.
She needs the tribe's healer. Needs to be somewhere safer than a temporary hunting cave. Needs to be home.
Needs to be where Caleb can properly care for her.
The journey back is grueling, but he doesn't slow. His savi is precious cargo—the most precious thing he's ever carried. His tail wraps partially around her for extra security, and his khui hums with contentment at having her close.
Mine. Protected. Carrying savi home.
But as the tribe's caves come into view, anxiety creeps in. Caleb was never supposed to be gone from the tribe for this long. What began as a routine hunt has stretched into something else entirely—into resonance and purpose and a warmth he never thought he’d be allowed to have.
He's been gone for several weeks. Longer than he's ever been away. What will they think when he returns with this strange creature? This alien female who isn't of their people?
What if they reject her? Refuse to accept her as his mate?
His arms tighten protectively. Let them try. Caleb will fight anyone who threatens savi. Will protect. Will keep.
He enters the main cave system, and immediately he knows something has changed.
The cave is louder, with more activity than usual. And there are scents he doesn't recognize—strange, alien scents like his savi's, but different. Varied. He rounds the corner into the main gathering space and stops short.
There are others. Other creatures like his savi—small, soft, with five fingers and no tail or horns. At least a dozen of them, maybe more. And several are clearly mated, standing close to males from his tribe, their khui resonating audibly.
What—how—
Then one of the females spots him. Her dark hair is pulled back, and her eyes go wide as they lock on the bundle in his arms.
"Oh my god," she breathes. "Is that—" She starts running toward him. "Let me see her—please—"
Instinct takes over.
Caleb snarls, turning his body to shield his savi from the approaching female. His free hand drops to the blade at his hip, and the sound tearing from his chest is pure threat.
No. Mine. Stay back.
"Caleb, stop!" A male voice cuts through his fury—Gideon, stepping between Caleb and the female. His closest friend positions himself protectively in front of the dark-haired female, and Caleb can sense the resonance between them. Gideon's hand comes to rest on her shoulder, firm and possessive.
Gideon has a mate.
"Brother, she is not a threat," Gideon says firmly, speaking in his native tongue. "This is Tara. My mate. And she is your savi's friend. From the same ship."
The words process slowly. Friend. Not threat. But his khui isn't convinced—everyone is a threat when it comes to his vulnerable, unconscious savi.
Tara is trying to peer around Gideon, visibly distraught. "Please, I just need to see if she's okay. We thought—when the ship crashed—we thought she was dead—"
"Back," Caleb growls, the word coming out harsh. "No one touches. No one comes close."
"Caleb." Gideon's voice drops to that particular tone of reason. "The females are friends. They have been here for weeks. Some have already mated with our people. Tara just wants to know that her friend survived." He squeezes Tara's shoulder. "She has been grieving. Let her see."
Caleb's arms tighten around his bundle. Every instinct screams to run, to hide his savi away where no one can reach her. But Gideon is right—he can see it in the female Tara's eyes. Grief. Hope. Fear.
"She can look," Caleb forces out. "From there. Do not come closer."
He carefully adjusts the furs, revealing his savi's peaceful face. Tara's sob of relief echoes through the cave.
"She's alive," Tara chokes out. "Oh thank god, she's—"
"She needs the healer," Caleb interrupts, already backing away. "Now."
He doesn't wait for a response, turning toward the healer's caves with his precious burden.
"I'll find you later!" Tara calls after him. "When she wakes—please—tell her I'm here!"
Caleb doesn't acknowledge it, already moving through the passages with single-minded purpose.
—
Zayne's cave is organized and clean, lined with shelves of herbs and supplies. The healer himself is tending to someone in the corner—another of the strange females—but he looks up when Caleb enters.
And Caleb's possessive instincts ratchet up another notch.
Zayne is...attractive. Even Caleb can acknowledge that. Tall and lean, with striking ice-green eyes and black horns that curve back elegantly. He moves with a grace that speaks of competence and control.
Unmated. Caleb knows this immediately—there's no resonance around him, no scent of a mate.
Which means his savi could resonate for Zayne.
The thought makes Caleb want to bare his teeth.
"Caleb," Zayne says, his voice calm and professional. "I heard you had returned. Is this your mate?"
"Yes." The word comes out clipped. "She has khui now. Two days. But she has not woken. I need you to check her. Make sure she will survive."
Zayne's expression softens slightly. "Lay her down. Let me examine her."
Caleb moves to the pile of furs Zayne indicates, but when he tries to lay her down, his arms won't cooperate. Won't release her.
"Caleb," Zayne says patiently. "I need to examine her properly. You have to let go."
"No."
"She might be in danger. The khui integration does not always go smoothly with these human females. I need to assess—"
"Then assess," Caleb snaps. "But I will hold her."
Zayne studies him for a long moment, then nods. "Fine. Unwrap her. I need to see her body."
Jealousy flares hot and immediate. The thought of Zayne—attractive, unmated Zayne—seeing his savi's bare skin—
"Have you found your mate yet?" Caleb asks abruptly.
Zayne blinks at the sudden question. "No. I have not resonated for anyone. Why?"
"Just...wondering." Caleb's arms tighten fractionally around his savi. "There are many new females in the tribe. Thought maybe..."
"I have examined all of them," Zayne says with professional detachment. "No resonance with any. Now, your mate. Please."
The answer should relieve Caleb. It doesn't. Just because Zayne hasn't resonated yet doesn't mean he won't. Doesn't mean her khui won't sing for him the moment she wakes up.
Caleb needs to claim her. Soon. Before anyone else gets ideas.
He carefully unwraps the furs, revealing her still form. She's dressed in a simple wrap he fashioned for her, at least, covering the most intimate parts.
Zayne moves closer, and Caleb has to actively fight the urge to snarl.
The healer's hands are efficient and quick. He checks her pulse, her breathing, presses gently on her ribs where they'd been broken. Then his hand moves to her neck, feeling where the khui entered.
Each touch makes Caleb's jaw clench harder.
"Good," Zayne murmurs. "The entry point is healing well. No infection. Her temperature is slightly elevated, but that is normal for integration." He looks at Caleb. "How long since she received the khui?"
"Two days."
"And she has not woken at all?"
“No. She woke briefly after. Was in pain,” he tells Zayne. His chest aches at the memory of you, so small and frail and hurting. The way you tried to be brave anyway. “Then…she only sleeps."
Zayne nods thoughtfully. "The khui is working on her injuries—you said her ribs were broken?" At Caleb's nod, he continues. "That explains the extended sleep. Her body is using all its energy for healing. The khui has to repair significant damage before she can wake safely." He meets Caleb's eyes. "She will be fine. But it might take a few more days."
"She will live." Relief floods through Caleb so intensely his knees weaken. "She will live."
"Yes. Though she will need careful tending. Fluids, warmth, monitoring." Zayne's expression turns knowing. "I assume you are not going to let anyone else provide that care?"
"Only me."
"I thought as much." Zayne steps back, and Caleb immediately feels better with distance between the healer and his mate. "Take her to your cave. Keep her warm. If her fever spikes or she shows signs of distress, bring her back immediately. But otherwise...let the khui work."
Caleb is already rewrapping her, already standing. "Thank you."
"Caleb." Zayne's voice stops him at the entrance. "Congratulations. On your mate."
Something warm unravels in Caleb's chest. My mate. Mine.
"Thank you," he says again, and this time there's joy in it.
—
His cave is exactly as he left it—private, warm, and stocked with supplies. He lays his savi in the center of his sleeping furs, the softest and warmest ones, and finally grants himself a second to breathe.
She is here. In his home. Safe.
He strips away the temporary wrap, needing to check her himself. The bruising on her ribs is already fading, he notes with relief. The khui is working fast. Her skin is warm but not feverish, her breathing deep and even.
Perfect. She is perfect.
He can't resist touching her—his hands map her body gently, reverently. Not with lust now, at least not entirely. Now, he touches her with pure adoration.
"My savi," he murmurs, trailing his fingers along her arm. "Caleb's mate. So beautiful. So...nice."
He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. Then her cheek. Her nose. Her lips—those soft lips that taught him what kissing was, that said words he didn't understand at first.
Like "love."
She'd said it in her sleep once, murmuring something about missing love, wanting love. He hadn't understood the word then—his people have no equivalent. But he'd felt something stir in his chest at the sound of it.
Now he understands.
Love is this. This overwhelming, all-consuming devotion. This need to protect and provide and cherish.
"Caleb loves you," he whispers against her lips, the words feeling right. Perfect. "Loves you so much. From first moment."
Another kiss, this one to her shoulder. Then her collarbone. He trails kisses down her body, worshipping every inch.
"Love your soft skin," he murmurs against her chest. "Love how you feel in Caleb's arms." He brushes a kiss to her stomach. "Love your brave heart. How you fought Caleb even when scared."
His hand cups her face tenderly.
"Love how you teach Caleb to cook meat. To kiss. To be patient." He smiles at the memories. "Love how you cry when overwhelmed. Shows you feel deeply. Shows you care."
He kisses her ribs, where they'd been broken. Where she'd been hurt trying to protect herself. They’re healing nicely now, the bruises fading away.
“Love your strength. Your stubbornness.” He lets out a soft laugh. “You fought Caleb so hard. Refused to give up. Even when Caleb burned your clothes.” He nuzzles against her stomach apologetically. "Caleb sorry about this. But needed you safe. Needed you to depend on Caleb."
His tail curls around her ankle possessively.
"Love your voice. Your laugh. The one you did when Caleb learned kissing wrong at first." He trails kisses across her hip. "Love how you taste. How you smell. How you fit perfectly in Caleb's arms."
He moves back up her body, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Love how you challenge Caleb. Make Caleb think. Make Caleb better." His thumb ghosts over her cheek, like he can’t believe she’s real. "Love that you are so clever. Resourceful. Showed Caleb new ways to do things."
He presses a kiss to each closed eyelid.
"Love that you care about your friends. That female Tara—she loves you too. Caleb sees it," he admits into the quiet. Even if it makes him jealous. "Love that you have people who want you safe. Means you are precious. Special."
His hand splays over her heart, feeling the khui pulse there.
"Love that you are mine now. That khui chose Caleb for you. That Caleb gets to keep you. Care for you. Build life with you."
He settles beside her, pulling her into his arms. One hand strokes her hair in slow, soothing motions.
"Going to make you so happy," he promises. "When you wake, Caleb show you. Show you the tribe. Other humans. Show you how good life can be here."
His lips press to her temple.
"Will hunt the best meat for you. Learn to cook it so nice. Make you warmest furs. Build you anything you want." His voice drops to a whisper. "Will give you family. Pups with your clever mind and pretty hair and Caleb's strength and horns. Perfect. Beautiful. Ours."
The khui hums contentedly in his chest, resonating with the answering pulse in hers. Not complete yet—not until she wakes and they truly bond—but close. So close.
"Love you," he murmurs again, the words coming easier each time. "Caleb loves his savi. His mate. His everything."
He can still see Zayne's face in his mind. Still feel that spike of jealousy. Still worries that she might resonate for another, that another male might try to claim her.
"Need to bond with you properly," he whispers. "When you wake. Need to make you completely Caleb's. So everyone knows. So no one tries to take you."
His arms tighten protectively.
"Zayne is too handsome. Too unmarked. Caleb worried." The admission feels vulnerable. "But you are Caleb's savi. Caleb's khui sang first. Caleb found you first. Caleb gets to keep you."
He presses another kiss to her hair.
"Please wake soon," he breathes. "Caleb needs to see your eyes. Hear your voice. Needs to know you're really okay. Really here. Really Caleb’s."
The khui pulses reassuringly, but it's not enough.
He needs her awake. Needs her looking at him with those eyes. Needs her saying his name.
Needs her to love him back.
"Caleb will wait," he promises. "Will be patient. Will be here when you wake. Always here. Always yours."
He pulls her closer, breathing in her scent, feeling her heartbeat against his chest.
"Love you," he whispers one more time. "Love everything about you. Your body, your spirit, your mind, your heart. All of you. Forever."
And with his mate safe in his arms, her khui pulsing steadily with life, Caleb finally allows himself to sleep. Secure in the knowledge that she's here. She's safe. She's his.
His last thought before sleep claims him:
Caleb loves savi. And he will spend the rest of his life proving it.
—
You wake slowly, awareness returning in layers.
Warmth. There’s so much warmth wrapped around you, solid and secure. The rhythmic thrum of a heartbeat beneath your ear. The heady scent of something clean and masculine. And a sensation in your chest—a humming, pulsing presence that wasn’t there before.
Your eyes flutter open.
You’re in a cave, larger and more organized than the hunting shelter. Supplies line the walls, weapons hang from carved hooks, furs are piled everywhere. Soft blue light from bioluminescent crystals bathes everything in gentle illumination.
And you’re wrapped in arms that could crush you but hold you like you’re made of glass.
“Caleb?” Your voice comes out hoarse, unused.
The body beneath you goes rigid. Then there’s movement, carefully controlled, and suddenly you’re looking up into violet eyes that are blazing with relief and joy and something so intense it steals your breath.
“Savi.” His voice breaks on the word. “Savi awake. Finally awake.”
His hands cup your face, fingers firm at your jaw like he’s anchoring you to consciousness. Then he’s kissing you—desperate, fervent kisses all over your face, your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips.
“Thought—worried—so long asleep—” The words tumble out between kisses, his native language mixed with broken English. You can’t translate them exactly, but the meaning comes through clearer than it used to—worry, fear, how long he waited. “Savi okay? Hurt anywhere? Feel pain?”
“I’m—” You try to sit up, and he immediately helps, supporting your weight. “I’m okay, I think. What happened? The last thing I remember—”
The beast. Your ribs breaking. Him pulling out that slug-like thing and pressing it into your neck—
Your hand flies to the side of your throat, feeling for…something. There’s a small mark there, already healed over, but beneath it you can feel that strange pulsing.
The khui.
It’s inside you.
“Oh, god.” Your breathing picks up. “It’s really—you really—”
“Savi breathe. Please breathe.” Caleb’s hands are on your shoulders, steadying you. “Khui is good. Saved savi. Healed broken ribs. Made savi strong.” His forehead presses to yours. “Made savi survive.”
You take a shaky breath, then another. He’s right—your ribs don’t hurt at all. Actually, you feel better than you have in days. Weeks, maybe. Strong. Energized. Warm from the inside out.
And that humming in your chest…
You press your hand over your heart, and Caleb’s hand immediately covers yours.
“Feel it?” he asks softly. “The khui? The resonance?”
“I feel…something.” It’s like a second heartbeat, pulsing in rhythm with your actual heart. And when you focus on it, you can feel…him. Caleb. His presence, somehow connected to yours.
“We resonate,” he says, and there’s such wonder in his voice. “Caleb’s khui and savi’s khui. Singing together. Like supposed to.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “Means we are meant to be. Meant to bond. Meant to be mates.”
The word ‘mates’ sends a flutter through you. Through the strange connection, you feel his reaction to your reaction—satisfaction, possessive pleasure, hope.
“I can feel you,” you whisper. “Not just physically. I can feel your…emotions?”
“Yes. Is the bond. Not complete yet, but beginning.” His hand slides to cup your face. “When fully mate, will be stronger. Will feel everything. Know everything about each other.”
Your heart races. Fully mate. The words send heat through you—anticipation mixed with nervousness. You know what he means. What completing the bond will require.
You've kissed him. Felt his body respond to yours. But that—that's different. This is more. Everything.
But underneath the nervousness is something else. Something that quickens your pulse for entirely different reasons. The memory of his mouth on yours. His hands on your body when he dressed you. The way he looks at you like you're everything he's ever wanted.
You want it. Want him. Want to know what it feels like to be completely his. But he's so big. So different from you. Will it even work? Will he—how will you—
“Later,” he says quickly, reading your sudden nervousness. “When savi ready. No rush. Caleb can wait.”
But you see it in his eyes—the hunger, barely contained. The way his khui is thrumming harder now, responding to your proximity, to the partial bond forming between the two of you.
He wants you. Desperately. Completely. And he's waiting. For you. Will keep waiting until you're ready.
The realization makes something in your chest ache with tenderness.
You look around the cave again, taking in the details. “Where are we? This isn’t the same cave as before.”
“Caleb’s home. The tribe.” His expression turns cautious. “Brought savi here. To healer. To safety. Is…is okay? Savi not angry?”
“I—” You’re not sure what you are. Overwhelmed, definitely. Confused. But also… “You said there’s a healer? And a tribe?”
“Yes. Many people. And—” He pauses. “Other humans. From savi’s ship here. Safe. Some have mates now. Have khui.”
Your heart leaps. “Others survived? Who? How many?”
“Caleb did not count. Too much worry about savi.” He brushes a strand of hair tenderly behind your ear. “Your friend—Tara? Is here. Has mate. Was very worried about savi. Want to see you.”
Tara. Tara’s alive.
Relief crashes through you so intensely that tears spring to your eyes. Through the bond, you feel Caleb’s immediate concern.
“Savi sad?”
“No, I’m—” You wipe at your eyes. “I’m happy. She’s my best friend. I thought she was dead. I thought everyone was dead.”
Understanding softens his expression. “Want to see her? Caleb can bring here. Or take savi to her—”
“Not yet.” You’re still too raw, too overwhelmed. “Later. I just…I need a minute to process all this.”
“Okay. Whatever savi needs.” He shifts, pulling you more securely into his lap. “Hungry? Thirsty? Caleb has food. Water. Whatever savi wants.”
As if on cue, your stomach growls. Loudly.
Caleb’s face lights up with purpose. “Savi hungry! Caleb feed savi. Wait here.”
He deposits you carefully in the nest of furs and moves to the corner where supplies are stored. You watch him work—selecting pieces of dried meat, some kind of fruit, a waterskin. His movements are efficient but excited, his tail swishing with barely contained energy.
Through the bond, you feel his emotions clearly now: joy that you’re awake, pride in providing for you, and underneath it all, a deep, unwavering devotion that makes your chest tight.
He returns with the food and settles beside you. When he brings the first piece of meat to your lips, you hesitate for just a moment.
Then you open your mouth.
His entire expression transforms. Surprise flashes across his face, followed by such profound joy that it takes your breath away. Through the bond, you feel his elation, sharp and overwhelming.
"Savi," he breathes, like a prayer.
He feeds you slowly, reverently, his focus absolute. Each piece is offered with care, and through the bond you feel his contentment building with every bite you accept. This matters to him—not just the nutrition, but the act itself. The trust. The allowing.
You've always insisted on doing things yourself. Always pulled away from this kind of care.
But now you let him. You accept what he offers. You trust him to provide.
And the way he looks at you—like you've given him the world—makes your chest tight.
"Good savi," he murmurs, his thumb brushing your lower lip to catch a drop of juice. "Eat more. Get strong."
You take the next piece from his fingers, and his khui purrs so loudly you can hear it.
Through the bond, you feel what this means to him. How deeply it satisfies something primal in him to care for you this way. To have you accept it willingly.
To have you trust him enough to let go of control.
"Caleb happy," he says softly, almost awed. "Savi let Caleb take care. Let Caleb provide. Is—is good. So good."
And watching his face, feeling his joy through the bond—you realize it's good for you, too.
When you’re full, he brings the waterskin to your lips, supporting your head while you drink. His hand strokes your hair, gentle and soothing.
“Better?” he asks when you’ve finished.
“Better.” And it’s true. You feel more grounded now, more present. More…accepting of this bizarre, impossible situation.
You have a khui inside you. A parasite that’s bonded you to an alien. It should be terrifying. But through the bond, all you feel from him is warmth. Safety. Love—
Wait.
You focus on that feeling, that emotion pouring from him. It’s so strong, so all-encompassing, that it takes your breath away.
“Caleb?” Your voice is small. “What is this feeling? Coming from you through the bond?”
He goes very still. Then, carefully, he cups your face in both hands.
“Is love,” he says simply. His thumbs stroke your cheeks. “Caleb loves savi. Loves everything about you. Your body, your spirit, your mind. Your strength. Your stubbornness. Your kindness.”
Your breath catches. “You…love me?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No doubt. “From first moment. Caleb’s khui knew. And Caleb’s heart knew. This is the one. This is mate. This is love.”
Tears spill over, and he wipes them away tenderly. “Savi crying again. Is bad? Did Caleb say wrong thing?”
“No, I—” You let out a watery laugh. “I don’t know what I feel. This is all so much. So fast. You’re a stranger, but you’re not, because I can feel you. And you love me, but I barely know you. And there’s this thing inside me now, and I’m connected to you forever, and—”
“Breathe,” he soothes, pulling you against his chest. That rumbling purr starts, vibrating through you. “Is okay. Is overwhelming. Caleb understands. Take time. Learn Caleb. Learn tribe. Learn new life.”
His hand strokes your back in soothing circles.
“No rush. Caleb wait whole life for savi. Can wait longer for savi to…to maybe love Caleb back.” His voice is small on those last words. Vulnerable.
Through the bond, you feel it—the fear that you’ll never return his feelings. The hope that maybe, eventually, you will. The determination to earn your love, no matter how long it takes.
Your hand finds his chest, pressing over his heart where his khui pulses.
“I don’t know if what I feel is love,” you say honestly. “But I feel…something. Connection. Safety. And when you’re close, when you touch me, it feels…” You struggle for the word. “Right.”
Hope flares through the bond, so bright it’s almost blinding.
“That is enough,” he breathes. “More than enough. Will work for the rest. Will show savi every day. Will be good mate. Patient mate. Will—”
You press your finger to his lips, silencing him. “Just…be you. Be Caleb. The one who hunts for me. Who learns my language. Who burns my clothes to keep me safe.” You smile at the memory. “The one who learns to kiss like his life depends on it.”
His eyes darken with heat at the mention of kissing. “Can…can Caleb kiss savi now? Missed kissing savi so much.”
You don’t waste another second before leaning up and pressing your lips to his.
The kiss is gentle at first, exploratory. But then the bond flares, and suddenly you can feel what he’s feeling—the desperate relief, the overwhelming joy, the love pouring through him—and it amplifies every sensation.
You gasp against his mouth, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss. His tongue moves with yours, and the texture that seemed strange before now feels perfect. Right.
“Missed this,” he murmurs between slow licks, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Missed savi. So much.”
You can sense the truth of it. How worried he was. How he stayed by your side for days, refusing to leave, talking to you even though you couldn’t hear.
Telling you all the things he loves about you.
“I heard you,” you whisper. “I think. In my sleep. Telling me things. Promising things.”
His eyes widen. “Savi heard?”
“Not all of the words, exactly. But…the feeling. The emotion behind them.” You touch his face. “I felt safe. Even unconscious. Because you were there.”
The sound he makes is almost a sob. He pulls you close, and his whole body trembles.
“Thought Caleb lost you,” he admits into your hair. “When ribs broken. When had to give khui. Thought maybe too late. Maybe savi die anyway.” His arms tighten. “Would have killed Caleb. Would have broken Caleb’s heart.”
Your tears fall, and you don’t bother fighting them. You let him hold you while you cry—for everything you’ve lost, everything you’ve gained, everything that’s changed. He rocks you gently, pressing kisses to your temple, your hair, anywhere he can reach. Murmuring soft words you don't fully understand but feel the meaning of anyway.
His resonance sends you comfort. Warmth. Safety. Love.
Always love.
But then you feel it—wetness on your neck where his face is pressed, his shoulders shaking slightly.
He's crying, too.
You pull back to look at him, and his eyes are wet, tears tracking down his cheeks. Through the bond, you feel it—his overwhelming relief that you're alive, his joy that you accepted the khui, his terror at how close he came to losing you.
"Almost lose savi," he chokes out. "Almost—Caleb so scared. So scared."
Without thinking, you cup his face and lean up, kissing away his tears. First one cheek, then the other, tasting salt on your lips.
He makes a broken sound and does the same—kissing your tears away with trembling lips, his large hands cradling your face like you might slip through his fingers.
"I'm here," you murmur against his skin. "I'm okay. You saved me."
"Caleb always save savi." He kisses your forehead, your nose, your tear-stained cheeks. "Always keep safe. Always."
You hold each other, both crying now, exchanging soft kisses between the tears. It’s comfort and reassurance and something deeper. Something that feels like a promise.
When the tears finally subside you feel exhausted, but oddly peaceful. Safe.
Home.
“What happens now?” you ask quietly.
“Now?” He considers. “Now savi rests. Gets stronger. Meets tribe. Sees friend Tara.” His hand strokes your hair. “And when ready—when savi wants—we complete bond. Become true mates. Forever.”
“And if I’m never ready?”
Pain flashes through the bond, quickly suppressed. “Then Caleb waits. Forever.” His smile is sad. “But hopes savi will be ready. Someday.”
You look at him—this alien who hunted for you, cared for you, saved your life. Who looks at you with such affection it hurts. Who loves you with an intensity that should terrify you but somehow…doesn’t.
“Maybe not forever,” you say softly. “Maybe…soon.”
Hope blazes through the bond, and his smile is like the sun.
“Soon,” he repeats, like a prayer. “Caleb like soon.”
He kisses you again, soft and sweet, full of his joy, his relief, his devotion.
And maybe, just maybe, the first stirrings of what might become love. On your side, too.
You fall asleep in his arms again, this time by choice. And when you dream, you dream of purple eyes and gentle hands and a future that might not be so terrible after all.
A future with him. With Caleb.
Your mate.
—
Three days after waking with the khui, you’re finally strong enough to explore the settlement properly.
Caleb hovers, of course. His hand never leaves the small of your back as he guides you through the main cave system, proudly introducing you to tribe members with a litany of “Esha savi” that makes several females smile knowingly.
The tribe is larger than you expected. There are dozens of individuals going about daily tasks. Hunting parties preparing to leave, females working hides, the younger ones playing in the warm spaces near thermal vents.
And then you see her.
“Tara?”
The familiar face turns, and your friend’s eyes widen with recognition and relief. She’s wrapped in furs, a bone comb holding back her dark hair, and most notably—there’s a tall, blue-skinned male standing protectively behind her.
“Oh my god,” Tara cries, rushing forward. She stops just short of hugging you, glancing at Caleb. “May I…?”
Caleb’s jaw tightens, but he nods once. The moment Tara embraces you, his hand flexes possessively on your waist.
“I thought I was the only one,” you say into her shoulder. “I thought everyone else was dead.”
“No, there are fifteen of us here. Some—some didn't make it,” she informs you, voice catching. “But we’re safe. They’ve taken care of us.”
You pull back, studying her. She looks healthy, well-fed. Content, even. “They gave you the khui too?”
“All of us. We didn’t have much choice—most of us were injured from the crash.” She glances at the male behind her with unmistakable affection. “This is Gideon. My mate.”
Gideon nods at you, then says something in their language to Caleb. Both males relax fractionally, some understanding passing between them.
“Can we talk?” Tara asks. “Privately? Just for a bit?”
Caleb makes a sound of protest, but you touch his arm. “It’s okay. I’ll stay where you can see me.”
He doesn’t look happy, but he allows Tara to lead you to a fur-covered ledge, in a quieter corner of the main cave. Caleb positions himself across the space, arms crossed, watching your every movement.
Tara keeps her voice low as she fills you in on the crash. The chaos afterward. How the tribe found the wreckage scattered across the ice and pulled survivors from the debris before the cold could finish the job. How not everyone made it—but enough did. Enough to call it a miracle. The survivors are safe with khui now, housed deeper in the caves, recovering under the tribe’s watch.
Then her gaze drifts back to Caleb. To the way his attention never leaves you. To how his body is angled, ready to pounce, even at a distance.
“So,” she says, leaning in conspiratorially. “What’s it like being claimed by Mr. Tall, Blue, and Devastatingly Handsome?”
Something hot and territorial flutters like mad beneath your ribs. Mine, it whispers. When your eyes find Caleb across the cave, his grin is already there, knowing and indulgent, like he’s been waiting for you to catch up to what he’s known all along.
That you're just as obsessed with him as he is with you.
“He’s very…” you search for the word.
“Possessive? Protective? Obsessed? Yeah, they all are. The resonance makes them a little crazy,” Tara says with a grin. “How are you handling it? The bond?”
“I’m…adjusting.” You touch your chest where the khui hums. “It’s overwhelming. Feeling him all the time, knowing he can feel me too.”
“It gets easier. And honestly?” Tara leans in conspiratorially. “It’s kind of amazing. Gideon knows exactly what I need, sometimes before I do. And the sex—”
“Tara!”
She laughs. “What? You haven’t…? Oh babe, you’re in for a treat. The resonance during doggy—”
“Spare me the details,” you interrupt, face burning. “Aren’t you at least a little…suspicious? A whole tribe of huge alien men just happening to rescue a bunch of human girls? Instead of, I don’t know, eating us? Turning us into sex slaves? Killing us for sport?”
"Oh honey, Gideon definitely wants to eat me, but not in the murder way." Tara waggles her eyebrows. "If you know what I mean."
"You're a menace," you tease, followed by a laugh so bright you can feel Caleb tense at the sudden noise. His reaction only makes you laugh harder.
God, you missed girl time.
"What? You asked!" Tara hits your shoulder playfully. "But okay, serious answer—look around. See how many males there are compared to females?"
You do look. The cave is full of males—dozens of them. But females? You can count them on one hand.
“There was some kind of plague years ago,” Tara explains. “Killed most of their females. The ones who survived can’t have children anymore—something about the disease damaging their ability to carry khui or something, I don’t fully understand it. But the tribe has been slowly dying out. No children born in over a decade.”
“So when we crashed here…” Your stomach sinks. “We saved them from extinction.”
She nods. “So really, it's less 'suspicious alien rescue' and more 'mutually beneficial survival arrangement with orgasms.'” Tara’s voice is way too casual given the circumstances. Her hand moves to her stomach. “I’ve already got a little blue bun in the oven.”
The world tilts. For a minute, you can’t believe your ears. Tara. With a baby. An alien baby.
“You’re pregnant?”
“That’s what the resonance is all about, babe. The khui makes us incredibly fertile, and the males…well, once they’ve found their special someone, biology clocks in and never really clocks out.” She grins. “Gideon is over the moon about it. And under my clothes. And behind my—”
Tara keeps rambling, but she lost you at alien fetus. You look across the cave at Caleb, who’s still watching you intently. All those times he touched your stomach. The way he’d looked at you with such hungry possession.
He knew.
He knew this whole time that the khui, the bond, was about making you pregnant. About using your body to save his dying tribe.
And he never bothered to tell you.
"Hey," Tara touches your arm. "I know that look. Don't spiral into the anger zone."
"He didn't tell me—"
"Because he probably thought you knew. I mean, what did you think 'mate' meant? Platonic life partners?" She snorts. "Also, hello, language barrier. Gideon tried to explain quantum physics to me yesterday using charades and cave drawings. It went about as well as you'd expect."
She’s trying to calm you down, but you're not amused. Not in the slightest.
"Okay, look." Tara's voice softens. "I get it. It's a lot. It’s all happening really, really fast. But they didn't deceive us—they literally don't have the vocabulary. And honestly?" She glances at Gideon with undisguised affection. "I'm happy. We're building a family together, and it's weird and wonderful and—" She looks back at you. "Your male looks at you the exact same way. Like you're his entire world. That's not deception. That's devotion."
"He burned my clothes."
"Okay, yeah, that's unhinged." Tara nods seriously. "But also kind of hot? In a caveman 'you're never leaving me' sort of way?"
First handsome, now kind of hot?
Something territorial flares in your chest. No. Not kind of hot. Not to Tara or anyone else. He's yours. Your unhinged alien who burns your clothes and refuses to let you go. Your obsessive protector who looks at you like you're his entire world.
Yours.
She tries reaching for you, but you’re already striding across the cave. Caleb straightens as you approach, clearly sensing your anger through the bond.
“Savi? What wrong?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you demand. “About the babies? About reproduction?”
His brow furrows in confusion. “Baby…?” Then recognition dawns. “Pup. Yes. Savi make pup with Caleb—”
“And you didn’t think to tell me? That the whole point of this bond is to get me pregnant?”
He’s clearly not following all your words, catching only fragments. “Pregnant…yes. Savi have Caleb pup. Make family—”
“I didn’t agree to that!”
Other tribe members are starting to stare. Caleb’s expression shifts from confusion to something darker as he catches the gist of your anger.
“Savi not want Caleb pup?” His voice goes dangerously quiet.
“That’s not—” You stop yourself short, unsure how to answer the question. Unsure how to come to term with the fact that the answer isn’t a simple no. It isn’t even a maybe. “I—I just wanted to know! Before you decided for me!”
He says something sharp in his language to the nearest male—Tara’s mate, you realize. Gideon responds, and whatever he says makes Caleb go absolutely rigid.
“What male?” Caleb snarls.
“What?”
“What male ask savi for pup? Who touch? Who speak?” His hands grip your shoulders, and his eyes are wild. “Tell Caleb!”
“No one! I’m talking about you—”
But he’s not listening. He swings you up into his arms, and despite your protests, he’s already moving. Striding out of the main space, he carries you through winding passages toward his cave.
“Caleb! Put me down! I’m trying to talk to you!”
“Not safe,” he growls. “Males think savi available. Think can offer pup. Lev. Never.”
“No one offered—you don’t understand—”
He kicks open the entrance to his cave and sets you down and immediately, blocking the entrance with his body.
“Here,” he says firmly. “Stay here. Not leave until…” He moves toward you, backing you against the wall. His hand splays across your stomach, possessive and hot. “Until savi belly grow with Caleb pup. Until all know savi is Caleb’s.”
The declaration should make you angry. Should make you want to fight.
Instead, heat pools low in your belly at his words, at the images they conjure. Caleb, fucking into you over and over until your cunt drips with his seed. You, round and swollen with his child. His hands on your growing stomach. Everyone knowing exactly who you belong to.
It shouldn't excite you. It shouldn't.
You squeeze your thighs tighter together.
“You can’t hold me hostage until I’m pregnant!”
“Can. Will.” His other hand cups your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Savi is Caleb’s. Only Caleb’s. No other male touch. No other male give pup.” His hand on your stomach presses harder. “Caleb pup. Here. Soon.”
You jerk your head away from his grip. “This is insane—”
“Caleb not share!” The roar echoes off the cave walls. But the next words are softer, almost broken. “Savi is everything. Can’t lose. Won’t lose. Not to other male.”
You stare at him, and suddenly you understand. He thinks another male approached you. Asked to father your children. And his possessive, territorial instincts have gone into overdrive.
“Caleb,” you say slowly. “No other male asked me for babies.”
He blinks. “No?”
“No. I was angry at you for not telling me that bonding means pregnancy.”
His expression shifts through several emotions—relief, confusion, then something almost sheepish. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
He’s quiet for a moment, considering. “Savi…not want pup with Caleb?”
The vulnerability in his voice makes your chest ache. “I didn’t say that.”
“But angry. Because pup?”
“Because you didn’t tell me. Didn’t ask” You touch his chest. “Just decided for me.”
His hand covers yours. “Caleb always choose savi. Always protect. Always…” He struggles for words. “Need savi safe. Need savi happy. Want savi have Caleb pup. Grow family. Fill empty place.”
You swallow. “What empty place?”
He presses your hand more firmly to his chest, over his heart. “Here. Empty whole life. Until savi. Now…” He guides your hand lower, to your own stomach. “Want fill savi too. Make family. Make…complete.”
Despite your anger, despite everything, your heart clenches.
“The tribe is dying,” you say softly. “Tara told me.”
“Yes.” His expression is pained. “No pup, long time. Tribe end soon. Then…” He gestures helplessly. “Savi come. Human come. Can make pup. Save tribe.”
“So that’s all we are? Breeding stock?”
“No!” He grips your face in both hands. “Savi is everything. Is mate. Is love. Is reason Caleb breathe.” His forehead presses to yours. “Pup is…is gift. Is future. But savi is now. Is always.”
You close your eyes. “You should have told me.”
“Would tell. When words better. When savi understand.” His thumb strokes your cheek. “Sorry. Caleb sorry.”
You can hear the genuine regret in his voice, feel it through the resonance that’s been building between you. It settles something in your chest that’s been tight and angry.
“I know,” you whisper. “I’m still upset, but…I know.”
His hand slides from your face down your throat, resting over your racing pulse. “Savi not leave? Not with other male?”
“There is no other male, you jealous idiot.”
Relief floods through the resonance, followed immediately by that raw, desperate hunger. “Tell truth. Savi want Caleb pup?”
Your body responds for you—nipples hardening, pulse quickening, wet heat pulsing to your core—and through the bond he feels it. Feels your arousal at his possessive claim.
His eyes go dark.
"Savi like this," he says, not a question. His hand returns to your stomach, pressing harder. "Like idea of Caleb pup. Of everyone seeing. Of being Caleb's."
“Yes,” you whisper.
His whole body goes rigid. "Yes?"
"Yes." You reach up slowly, trailing your fingers along his jaw. "I want to carry your baby, Caleb. Want my belly to grow round with your child." Your fingers drift higher, tracing the base of one horn. He shudders. "Want everyone to see and know exactly who I belong to."
"Savi—" He groans, voice strangled.
"But you know what else I want?" You wrap your hand around his horn gently, and his hips jerk forward involuntarily. "I want them to know you're mine, too. Want every female in that tribe to see the marks I leave on you and know to keep their hands off of what's mine."
"Yes—savi mark Caleb—please—"
"Will you let me?" You stroke along his horn experimentally, and he makes a broken sound. "Let me claim you the way you want to claim me? Let me show everyone that you belong to me just as much as I belong to you?"
"Yes. Anything. Everything savi want—" He's trembling now, grasping at the stone on either side of your head, his arousal pressing hard against your body.
"I want you inside me," you murmur against his ear, and he groans. "Want to feel you fill me. Want you to breed me properly, Caleb. Want you to make sure your seed takes root."
The sound he makes is almost anguished.
"Want that so much," he breathes. "Want give savi pup. Want see savi belly grow. Want—want everything with savi."
"Then let me see you." You pull his head down to yours, your lips brushing his with each word. "I want to see how much you want it. I want to explore you the way you explored me."
His eyes widen. "Explore?"
"Take off your clothes, Caleb." You step back, giving him space. "Let me look at you. Touch you. Learn you."
He obeys immediately, stripping away his minimal coverings with shaking hands. And then he's standing before you, completely bare, his arousal prominent and impossible to ignore.
You take your time looking. Really looking. The lean muscle wrapped in that blue-violet skin. The way his tail moves restlessly behind him. The thick length standing proud between his legs, that curious ridge along the top prominent.
"Beautiful," you breathe, and watch pink flush across his cheeks. "You're so beautiful, Caleb."
You move closer, trailing your fingers over his chest, feeling the vibration of his khui beneath your palm. Lower, tracing the defined muscles of his stomach. He's trembling under your touch.
"Can I touch you here?" Your hand hovers near his length.
"Please—yes—savi touch—"
You wrap your hand around him carefully, and his hips buck forward with a groan. The texture fascinates you—hot and hard and smooth, with ridges that have you clenching around nothing. You stroke slowly, learning the shape of him, the way he pulses in your hand.
And just above his cock, there’s a feature you don’t have a name for yet, but can’t stop noticing—a spur-like ridge that’s firm to the touch.
"Tell me about this," you murmur, running your thumb over the spur. "What does this do?"
“Do not know. Just—just part of Caleb. Part of all males,” he gasps out. “Why? Is wrong?”
“No. Not wrong. Just...different. Interesting.” You stroke over it again, fascinated by his responses. “Will it feel good for me?”
He nods ferociously. "Yes—so good—Caleb promise—"
You kneel in front of him, and his eyes go wide.
“Savi? What you—”
Instead of answering, you lean forward and lick along the side of his length, tasting him. The flavor explodes on your tongue—salt and skin and something sweeter, something that makes the resonance cry out between you, makes every nerve ending light up with need.
“Oh—” The word escapes you. “You taste—”
“Savi—” His hand threads into your hair, not forcing, just holding on. “What savi doing—Caleb can’t—if savi keep—”
You lick along the other side, then trace your tongue over his spur. His whole body shudders.
“Please—savi please—Caleb can’t—can’t stop—”
When you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and hollow out your cheeks, he breaks with a shout.
“Savi!” He tries to pull you back, but it’s too late. You feel him pulse, feel the warmth flood your mouth. The taste is intense, intoxicating, making the khui thrum louder. You swallow once but there’s more, and when he finally stops shaking, you pull back.
“Sorry—Caleb sorry—too fast—Caleb ruin—” He’s apologizing frantically, but you’re not listening.
You’re gathering what spilled on your hand and between your own thighs, coating your fingers with his seed, and then you’re pressing them inside yourself.
His eyes go absolutely wild.
“What—what savi doing—”
“Not wasting it.” You work his release inside you with deliberate movements, watching his expression shift from shock to desperate, possessive hunger. “You’re mine, Caleb. All of you. Every part of you. I want it all.”
“Oh, savi—” His voice breaks. He drops to his knees, pulling your hand away and replacing it with his own, pushing his seed deeper inside you with two thick fingers. “Caleb’s. Savi put Caleb seed in savi. Keep it. Want it.”
“Yes—want it—want you—”
He’s still hard—impossibly, immediately hard again. He lifts you in his arms and carries you to the furs, laying you down with infinite care.
“Caleb hurt savi?” His hand hovers over your entrance, which is already wet with his release and your arousal. “Caleb big. Savi small. Caleb scared to hurt.”
“You won’t hurt me,” you assure him, although you’re not entirely sure that’s the truth You reach for him anyway. “Please. I need you inside me. Need to feel you. Need—”
“Slow,” he says firmly, positioning himself between your legs. “Caleb go slow. Make sure savi okay.”
He notches himself at your entrance, and even through your desperation, you can see the concentration on his face. The way he’s fighting every instinct to just take.
“Ready?” he asks quietly.
“Yes—please—Caleb—”
He pushes in slowly. Just the tip at first, letting you adjust to the stretch. His forehead is beaded with sweat, arms trembling where they brace on either side of you.
“More,” you gasp.
He sinks deeper, inch by careful inch. The stretch is intense but not painful, your body opening for him with each press forward.
“Oh—Caleb, that feels—fuck—”
“What is fuck?” He freezes, and you whine at the pause. “Savi hurt? Caleb stop—”
“No!” You scramble for his wrists, gripping them tightly in encouragement. “No—good—fuck is good. It means it feels really good.”
He nods once and continues until he’s fully seated, and you both make broken sounds. He’s so deep, so thick, filling you completely. The ridged length drags sinfully against your walls with each small movement, and that spur is pressed against your clit in a way that makes your vision blur.
“Savi,” he breathes. “So tight. So perfect. Feel so—Caleb never—never feel anything like—”
“Move,” you beg. “Please move—”
He starts with shallow thrusts, learning the rhythm. Each drag of that spur against your most sensitive spot makes you gasp, makes pleasure build impossibly higher and higher and higher. He notices immediately, adjusting his angle to make sure it hits that spot every time.
“Here?” he pants. “This good for savi?”
“Yes, right there—fuck—don’t stop—”
Understanding dawns in his eyes. He tests the movement again, watching your face. "Fuck?"
"Yes—oh, god, yes—"
A wicked smile crosses his face. He starts moving with more purpose, that ridge hitting perfectly with each thrust.
"Fuck," he says, testing it out. He tries it again with more confidence. "Caleb fuck savi. Make savi feel nice. Yes?"
"Yes—Caleb—please—"
"Caleb fuck savi good," he continues, clearly proud of his new word. "Fuck savi until pup takes. Until everyone knows. Fuck savi forever."
The crude word in his accent, combined with the possessive intent behind it, pushes you closer to the edge.
“Forever,” he repeats as his hand slides between your bodies, finding where you’re joined. His fingers explore the wetness—his seed and your arousal mixed together. “This is Caleb’s. Inside savi. Making savi wet. Making savi ready for pup.”
“Yes,” you breathe. You pull him closer by the back of his neck until your sweat-slicked foreheads press together, clinging to the contact like it’s the only thing keeping you steady. “Fuck, I want that. Want everyone to know you claimed me. Made me yours.”
“Mine,” he groans, his thrusts becoming deeper. “Want that too. Want see savi belly grow. Want—want—”
Without thinking, driven by pure instinct and the singing of the khui, you lean up and bite his shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark.
He shouts, his whole body going rigid. You lick over the mark soothingly, and he shudders.
“Savi mark Caleb?”
“Yes.” You bite his throat next, gentler, then lick the spot. “Mine. You’re mine, Caleb. Want everyone to see.”
“Yes—savi’s—only savi’s—” He’s moving faster now, spur dragging perfectly with each thrust. His hand finds your breast, thumb circling your nipple. “And savi is Caleb’s. Only Caleb’s.”
“Only yours—always yours—”
Every thrust, every drag of that spur against your clit, every touch of his hands—it’s all combining with the resonance until you can barely tell where you end and he begins.
“Close,” you gasp. “Caleb, I’m so close—”
“Yes. Come for Caleb. Let Caleb feel savi come around Caleb. Let—”
The orgasm crashes through you, and through the bond you feel his matching pleasure, his overwhelming satisfaction. He thrusts deep and holds, and you feel the warmth flooding inside you again, more of it this time, his body ensuring you take everything.
But he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t pull out. Just adjusts his angle and keeps moving, working his release deeper inside you.
“More,” he pants. “Need give savi more. Need fill savi so full. Need make sure pup takes. Need more.”
"Yes," you agree desperately, the sound of your need unrecognizable to your own ears. "More. Want more. Want to be full of you. Want you. Only you."
He makes love to you again, slower this time but no less intense. His hands map every inch of your body, learning what makes you gasp, what makes you arch. And you touch him the same way, claiming him with your hands, your mouth, your teeth.
You're oversensitive, overstimulated, but the bond is driving you both. The desperate need to claim, to be claimed, to create something permanent that binds you.
"Love savi," he murmurs. "Love savi so much. Want to give savi everything. Want to make savi happy. Want to make family with savi. Want—want everything. With savi."
He speaks with the same certainty he always has, offering you everything without asking for anything back.
And something clicks into place. Not suddenly—just finally.
“I love you, too, Caleb,” you whisper. "I want you. Want this. Want everything with you, too."
He makes a small sound, like he’s been holding his breath for a very long time. And for a heartbeat, he just looks at you—eyes wide, stunned, almost disbelieving. His mouth finds yours a moment later, soft and reverent, like he’s kissing the words as much as your lips. It isn’t rushed. It isn’t desperate. It’s warm and sure, tongue sliding against yours over and over, like he’s sealing something precious between you.
Then he's moving again, fucking into you with thrusts that are deep and insistent and all-consuming.
"Savi is gift," he breathes. "Caleb wait whole life. Wait for savi. Now have savi. Never let go. Never."
The next orgasm is gentle, rolling through you both like a wave. He comes with esha savi on his lips, and you feel it settle—the certainty that you're his, he's yours, and something new has been created between you.
He finally stills, still buried deep as he gathers you into his chest.
"Caleb stay inside," he says. "Keep seed in. Make sure pup take."
You respond with a kiss, too exhausted to argue over the logistics of alien reproductive biology.
“Pup is made,” he says with absolute certainty. “Caleb feel it. Savi full of Caleb now. Pup will grow here.”
“You're very sure about the pup,” you say, tracing absentminded patterns with your finger on his chest.
“Is certain.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “Caleb know. Khui tell Caleb. Savi is Caleb’s now. Forever. And soon—soon savi will be round with Caleb pup. And everyone will know. Know savi choose Caleb. Know Caleb choose savi.”
You glide your fingers over the bite marks on his shoulder. “They’ll know you’re mine, too.”
"Good." His arms tighten, pulling you impossibly closer. "Want everyone know Caleb belong to savi." He presses his forehead to yours, and through the bond you feel it—his overwhelming love, his absolute devotion, his certainty that this is exactly where you both belong. "Never let savi go. Never let anything hurt savi. Never—"
"I know," you whisper, cutting off his fierce promises with another kiss. "I know."
"Savi and Caleb," he breathes against your lips. "And soon, pup. Family. Forever."
Forever.
The word that once terrified you now settles warm in your chest. Forever with this obsessive, protective, utterly devoted male who looks at you like you're someone worth protecting. Forever in his arms, carrying his child, marked and claimed and cherished.
Forever doesn't sound like a prison anymore.
It sounds like home.
"Forever," you agree, and mean it with every fiber of your being.
His smile is radiant. He pulls you closer still, tucking your head beneath his chin, his hand never leaving your stomach where he's convinced his child is already growing.
And wrapped in his warmth, claimed and claiming, loved and loving—
You finally understand what savi really means. You're his reason to be strong, Caleb explained to you. His reason to become worthy.
But he's yours, too. Your reason to stop running. Your reason to choose survival in this frozen world over mourning the life you left behind. Your reason to believe in forevers and families and futures you never imagined wanting.
He made himself worthy of you. And you, impossibly, grew into someone worthy of him in return.
You are his to keep. His to protect. His to love. And he is yours—your reason to stay, your reason to believe, your reason to call this frozen world home.
Forever.
