Vek emerges from behind his boulder, scales shifting to aggressive yellows. Threat display. As if he could threaten anything with those soft, unscarred scales.
“She refused you.” Not a question.
“She's not thinking clearly. Your pheromones have contaminated her judgment.”
“She threw a rock at your skull. Seems like clear thinking to me.”
Mara watches us, those dark human eyes tracking our movements. She's learning to read our body language. The way Vek's spines half-extend but don't commit. The way I keep my spines flat, relaxed. Only the desperate need threat displays.
“The storm's coming,” Vek says. “She needs shelter.”
“Yes.”
“You're just going to let her suffer?”
“I'm going to let her choose.” I move closer to Mara, but not close enough to touch. Not yet. “That's what you don't understand, young hunter. Force creates resentment. Choice creates bonds.”
“Choice.” He laughs, the sound like breaking shells. “What choice does she have when her body only responds to you?”
“The choice to throw rocks at you, apparently.”
His scales flare brighter. Anger now, not just threat. Good. Angry hunters make mistakes.
“The ancient codes say an unclaimed female can choose any male who offers protection.”
“The codes also say a female's rejection must be honored. She rejected you. With violence. The matter is settled.”
“She hasn't accepted your bond. That makes her available.”
“That makes her deciding.”
Thunder crashes overhead. The storm is building fast. These canyons will flood within the hour once rain starts. We all know it. The question is who breaks first.
“Challenge,” Vek says suddenly.
I wasn't expecting that. Neither was Mara, based on her sharp intake of breath.
“You're challenging me for hunting rights?”
“The codes allow it. Single combat. Winner claims the female.”
“The female is right here,” Mara says, voice cutting. “And she already made her choice.”
“You haven't taken his bite. Until you do, any male can challenge for you.”
She picks up another rock. This one larger. “Want to test that theory?”
I laugh. Can't help it. The sound rumbles through the canyon like distant landslide.
“You challenge me for a female who wants to cave in your skull?”
“She's affected by your scent. Without it, she'd see me clearly.”
“Boy,” I say, and watch his scales darken at the insult, “she sees you perfectly. Young. Untested. Soft. Everything she doesn't want.”
“I'm offering comfort. Safety. Gentle claiming.”
“And she threw a rock at it.” I step between him and Mara. Not protective. Possessive. There's a difference. “Go home, Vek. Find a female who wants what you're offering.”
