Did he resent it?
Would he try to stop it?
That possibility made my jaw tense with sudden protectiveness of Dalk and Fiona’s blooming relationship. I didn’t think that Dalk had had a mate vision involving Fiona at this point, but in my opinion, the heart’s choice was just as valid as the decree handed down by the ageless spirits of this planet.
What would Gahn Thaleo do if one of his men had a mate vision that involved a woman who’d already made her choice? Who had chosen someone else?
Suddenly, I was dying to ask him. The question burned in my lungs.
But I didn’t get the chance. Zoren and Oxriel appeared before us, Oxriel grinning, Zoren more subdued. Both of them were bleeding and battered from that last round of combat.
“Oh, crap,” I said, swiftly standing. “Zaria, is there any more-”
But she had already anticipated me. She passed another jar of Vrika’s blood down the bench to us, followed by more clean hides. Unlike the meal-delivery parts of the day, we didn’t seem to be in charge of healing these guys. Oxriel and Zoren were happy to dip their hides into the jars and begin cleaning – and healing – their own wounds.
“You missed a spot,” I said to Oxriel, pointing at his mouth. His lips, chin, and most of his neck were black with drying blood.
“Oh, that is not mine!” he said brightly. “It is Dalk’s! I bit him! Right here.” He slapped a wet square of hide against his own shoulder.
“You bit him?” Tilly gasped while I snorted. I hadn’t actually seen that happen. In fairness, these guys moved fast. Most ofthe combat rounds had just been blurs of limbs and hair and, apparently, teeth.
“Of course!” Oxriel said, wiping Dalk’s blood from his face. “Dalk is a brutal opponent. I was becoming rather worried that he might forget the nature of the competition between us and attempt to snap my neck. I figured that sinking my fangs in was a good enough strategy in that moment. I did not win the round, but I did come away with my life, and I consider that a very good result, in and of itself! Even if he did not taste very good.”
“I wonder if Fiona is finding out how he tastes right now,” Tilly said to me on a conspiratorial whisper.
But, unfortunately, the men with us had scary-good hearing.
“Fiona?” Zoren said, looking taken aback. “Surely, Dalk would not command her to clean away his blood with her tongues! Even if he refuses to enter the water, she can merely use the hides!”
“Tongue,” I reminded Zoren gently. “Humans only have one.”
Oxriel looked indignant. “Only one tongue means it is even more precious! It is not to be used for licking foul Dalk clean!” He turned abruptly, as if he planned to single-handedly rescue Fiona and her beleaguered tongue from Dalk’s bloody grasp.
“That isn’t what Tilly meant,” I said hurriedly. “It was just a joke.”
“Explain this joke to us,” Zoren said, his dark brows pulled together, his sight stars vibrating with concentration.
“He is not even wearing a proper loincloth!” Oxriel went on, ignoring Zoren’s interjection. “Without a loincloth, his cock will be even less under control than normal!”
“Less…Under control?” Tilly asked, sounding halfway between laughter and worry.
But there was no hint of laughter in Oxriel’s eyes when he gravely swung his tail in confirmation.
“Yes,” he hissed vehemently. “I saw him, after Fiona did the kiss to him at the New Age Day!”
“New Year’s Eve?” I asked after a moment. “Wait, Fiona kissed Dalk?”
She’d sure kept that quiet! I hadn’t seen it happen at our New Year’s Eve party about a month ago.
“Yes, she did!” Oxriel cried, and there was something disbelieving, maybe even offended, in the reply. Like he still couldn’t believe that Fiona had chosen Dalk, of all men, to kiss that night. Tilly and I eyed each other as he went on with earnest indignation.
“I saw him afterwards! I saw his rogue cock, pressing his poor loincloth to the very limits of its constitution!”
“Not the loincloth’s constitution!” Tilly gasped with mock horror.
“Indeed!” Oxriel said seriously. “I saw his hard cock jerking this way and that like an untrained irkdu! Absolutely no control. No courtesy. No decorum at all!”
“No decorum?” I asked, fighting laughter. It was a fight I was rapidly losing. “You mean Dalk? Or his, er, parts?”
