Page 11 of The Twelve Nights of Halloheen

“Yeah, but in some dangerous times you touch a nasty gorg, not me,” Isla teased with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. He didn’t rumble out an amused sound. He was focused on talking her into trusting him.

“You can rely on mystellian, Isla.”

Her smile vanished, her expression turning serious. “I might never be okay with being touched.” The hand petting his head shook slightly at her words.

“When a bone is broken, does it go from separated to perfectly whole in an instant?” he asked.

She blinked in confusion, then snorted out a laugh. “Weird change of subject, but okay. Human bones don’t heal like that. A bone has to rebuild. Even with growth meds it takes days or even a week.”

“If that’s the case, why would you think you could easily heal trauma without help or in one interaction?” Tisuran asked pointedly. “We don’t make bones heal by themselves. Healers use medication, braces, and light therapy to aid healing. We don’t simply let an injury heal on its own. We help. You’ve been trying to heal your mind without any help. That’s not optimal.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Isla said, her hand resting on the armored plates at the back of his neck. Unlike the ones running down his spine, these only moved apart when he bent his head forward. “You want to help me? Be my medicine? Or, I guess, my treatment.”

“Yes, I do.” Bowing his head, he separated the plates to give Isla access to the soft, vulnerable flesh underneath. “Your mind isn’t broken. It’s injured.”

He shuddered when her little fingers moved between his neck plates, stroking the sensitive skin. No one had ever touched him there. He felt exposed and cherished.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked.

“Touch you,” he answered simply.

Her fingers went still. “I don’t think—”

“Only a little,” he said quickly, before she could voice her full refusal. “And I would stop the moment you showed any fear or discomfort. Remember, mystellianis exemplary.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked as she withdrew her fingers from his neck. He mourned the loss of her touch.

“What if it does?” he countered gently, turning to catch the flickering shadows across her face. “May I give you an example of what I want to try? Will you let me hold your hand?”

She hesitated, but this was something he knew she could do.

“Sure, I guess,” she said, shoving her hand at him.

Tisuran didn’t take her hand in his. Instead he brought his face to her hand and nuzzled her palm. His scent glands ached, and when her hand slid over his cheek, oil slathered her flesh. The scent of his bonding oil filled the air. When she took a deep breath to pull the scent into her lungs, his heartbeat sped up a little. He focused on remaining still so she could explore him with her fingers.

When she moved her hand to cup his jaw, he went still. “This doesn’t count,” she whispered. “I’m touching you. You’re not touching me.”

He opened his eyes to see a half smile on her face. “It does,” he insisted. “I’m touching you with my face and my scent.”

Now she laughed. “I guess touching me with your face doesn’t make me feel panicked.”

Bowing his head, he pressed his lips to her palm. Humans called these lip presses kisses, and although it wasn’t a natural Talin act, many of them had grown familiar with and fond of kissing.

She gasped slightly. He rolled his eyes up to see her face. Tisuran worried he’d see distress. But it wasn’t fear; it was interest. Emboldened, he kissed her again, this time lower on her palm and closer to her wrist. Then another kiss on the pulse point of her wrist.

“I would like to touch you all over with my lips and mouth,” he whispered into her callused palm.

“I, uh, that doesn’t sound scary,” she stuttered out.

“Isla, what’s going on?” Vida called out, breaking the moment between them.

As Vida stepped into the ring of light produced by the fire, Isla jerked her hand away from Tisuran. He had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at Vida for her bad timing. Vida was a motherly human originally from Wimol and was constantlytrying to feed everyone her homemade nutrient bars. No one had the heart to tell her how horrible they tasted, and there was a small, growing pile of them deep in the forest. Not even the wild animals of Sorana would eat them!

Now she stood over Isla and Tisuran, looking curious.

Isla smiled up at Vida and gestured to the fire. “Tisuran wanted to give me a preview of the fire pits for tomorrow’s Night of Fire. Didn’t he do a good job?”

Vida nodded her head with approval. “It looks great. Much better than what we had on Wimol. But you need to come back inside! We’re about to put the star on the tree and everyone needs to be there or you’ll miss out on the good luck!”

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