Page 27 of The Hunter

A shudder wracked him, and his stem roused behind his slit. Desire blossomed in his core, spiraling outward to flood his body, hazing his mind with red.

Lacey’s soft, pale body should have held no appeal to him. Everything about it was strange. Its size, its shape, its coloring, the way it moved. The way her flesh gave at the merest touch. Those bulbous chest mounds, tipped with berry-pink flesh. Her flaring curves, the patch of red hair over her slit, her feet with their odd, dainty toes…

And yet he could scarcely look away from her. He could not gaze upon her without curiosity, without hunger. Even her scars, unlike any he’d seen, drew him in.

He longed to see her now, to fill his lungs with her scent, to touch her, to…taste her.

To make her his.

She is only a short stride away…

Snarling, he hammered his fists on the table, rattling everything atop it. Warm blood oozed between his fingers.

“I cannot have her,” he rasped.

Tomorrow’s journey would do him well. It would keep him away from her, grant him other matters to occupy his attention, and let these consuming fires within him cool and sputter out. He needed to spend time with her out of his reach, unable to indulge his impulses to see her.

Because if he took Lacey as his mate, if he claimed her and let himself get as close to her as he craved…he would not survive it when the Tangle inevitably reminded him that it was the beginning and end of all things.

CHAPTER 8

A soft breeze flowed over the jungle floor as Telok reached the base of the winding steps. It carried a hint of warmth, a promise that the sun would soon chase away the darkness and chill of the night.

But the sky was still drab and gray with the half-light that preceded suncrest, and the shadows here beneath Kaldarak remained deep. Most of the city’s inhabitants were peacefully sleeping in their dens. By the time they began their days, Telok and his companions would be a great many segments away.

Legs thumped on the wood planks as the rest of the hunters descended behind Telok. Offering a greeting to the pair of thornskull warriors guarding the stairs, he moved a few strides away and turned to face the others.

Garahk, who was mated to Kaldarak’s ruler, Nalaki, came first. He was a powerfully built thornskull, his white hide contrasted by the black spots and hard spikes on his shoulders and headcrest. By his stature and bearing, there was no mistaking his fierce warrior spirit, and the kindness and warmth in his black eyes made him look no less formidable. He spoke to the guards with lightheartedness, familiarity, and respect, managing to make them chitter with a simple jest. Five more thornskulls followed him, all hunters who Telok had worked with in his time here.

Okkor and Elharat, who often guarded the entrance to Kaldarak together, walked side-by-side behind Garahk. The former’s hide was a green reminiscent of some of the jungle’s foliage, the latter’s a bright yellow. Droztar came next, his orange hide as vivid as the sky at sunfall. Then was Koss, whose amber hide was rich and warm. The hunter at the rear of the group stood nearly a segment taller than the rest, a brown-hided female named Ayali.

Telok had never met a female hunter during his time in Takarahl. Male shadowstalkers tended to more easily fall into the role, with their smaller, leaner builds and natural stealth and agility helping them excel at prowling the dense jungle for prey. And Zurvashi had reinforced that during her reign. Hunters had been no different than any other laborer to her, unskilled workers who performed a necessary but menial task. Females were meant to be warriors—elite, prestigious, equally revered and feared.

But he had known female hunters before. While Telok was a broodling, his mother had hunted alongside his sire, and his broodsister had learned those skills from their parents alongside him and their broodbrothers.

All the newly-arrived thornskulls carried the necessities for the journey ahead—baskets and sacks to haul forage, bags with tools and supplies, coils of woven rope, axes, and knives. Most had at least two spears, including Telok. He carried one of his freshly shaped spears in hand, with two more bundled together and slung over his shoulder, including the spear Lacey had made for him.

The eighth member of the party was revealed only after Ayali moved away from the stairs. Humans were small as it was, but compared to the huge female thornskull, Cole looked like a hatchling. Yet he walked with confidence, appearing to belong there just as much as any vrix. He too had a spear in hand, with his bow and arrows—the former unstrung and wrapped in silk, the latter padded with it—attached to his bag.

As Cole walked to Telok, he stretched his arms over his head and opened his mouth to yawn. He said in English, “You must be pretty eager today. This is fucking early, even for you.”

Telok nodded, adjusting the strap of his bag as he replied in vrix, “We have far to stride.”

“It is true beneath sun and sky,” Garahk said with a chitter. “Though we may have awaited the sun.”

Lifting a hand, Telok tapped a knuckle to his headcrest. “The sooner we depart, the sooner we will return with the supplies Kaldarak needs.”

The white thornskull thumped a thick foreleg against Telok’s. “Kaldarak is blessed to call you ours, Scarhide.”

“I am blessed to call Kaldarak home.”

That answer left a strange feeling inside Telok, somehow taut yet fluttery. Was it possible for words to be both true and untrue at once?

Though some of the many scars on both his hide and his hearts had come from the war against the thornskulls nearly eight years ago, he held no grudge against them. He wanted to help Kaldarak and would not hesitate to do so.

But he knew his eagerness to depart was motivated by something more selfish. His fitful sleep last night, caused by thoughts he could neither direct nor silence, had only reaffirmed what he’d known—he needed get away from this place. Away from temptation.

Away from⁠—