“Scream for me.”
Not a request. An order. I scream as he breeds me against the pillar, the sound echoing off canyon walls. Let them hear. Let them know I choose this. Choose him.
When his knot swells, locking us together, he turns so they can see. My back still against the pillar but now facing outward, on display. His seed pulses into me with each heartbeat, and I can feel it dripping out around his knot, marking the sacred stone with our combined fluids.
“Mine,” he says, loud enough to carry. “She chooses me every time. Will choose me when the portal opens. Will carry my offspring.”
One of the young hunters stands, scales flashing anger colors. But Vek stops him with a gesture. Still planning. Still waiting.
Day 17 - Pre-Dawn
The provocations escalate.
They've moved closer during the night. Close enough that their scents flood the den. They're not trying to hide anymore. They want us to know they're there. Want us to feel surrounded.
Rocks hit the den entrance. Not enough to damage, just enough to announce presence. Then voices, carried on the still air.
“She smells fertile,” one says. The yellow-scaled one from before. “Ready for breeding.”
“The old hunter can't satisfy her,” another adds. “That's why she screams so much. Frustration.”
“When we take her, we'll show her proper breeding.”
Khor's control is fraying. His claws extend and retract repeatedly, a nervous gesture I've never seen from him. The threat to his claim is real now. Four young males working together could potentially overwhelm him.
“Ignore them,” I say.
“Cannot ignore direct challenge much longer. Rules demand response.”
“What kind of response?”
“Combat. Or abandonment of territory.” His tail wraps around my ankle, possessive even in his agitation. “But first, must secure you.”
The sex that morning is different. Desperate. He takes me three times before dawn, each coupling more intense than the last. Marking me inside and out with his scent. His seed. His claim. By the time the sun rises, I'm so thoroughly covered in his pheromones that I smell more like him than myself.
“Tomorrow I deliver payment,” he says against my throat. “Cannot delay longer.”
“They know?”
“Of course they know. Is why they push harder today.” His teeth graze the spot where bond bite would go. “When I leave, they come.”
“All four?”
“Yes.”
The rest of the day is preparation disguised as normal activity. I organize my weapons where I can reach them quickly. Paralytic spines wrapped safely. Sulfur crystals partially crushed. Obsidian blades sharp enough to cut shadow. Blood sand ready. And the secretion vial hidden but accessible.
Khor pretends to patrol, but really he's laying false trails. Making it seem like there are multiple routes away from the den when really there's only one he'll take. Trying to buy time, to confuse them about when exactly he leaves.
That night, they get bold enough to approach the den directly.
I see them clearly for the first time in days. Vek has lost weight, his scales dull with stress and poor nutrition. He's been putting everything into this plan. The others look tired too. Young bodies pushed past their limits by obsession.
“Tomorrow, old hunter,” Vek calls out. “Tomorrow you leave for checkpoint. And we wait.”
Khor doesn't respond. But his breeding that night has an edge of violence that speaks louder than words. He's claiming me like it might be the last time. His knot stays swollen while he tells me things in his language that the translator can't quite parse. Promises or threats or prayers.
Day 18 - Full Day
