Page 75 of The Hunter

With a sorrowful buzz, Tas glanced at the other winddancers. “Our Nedrayas stays hidden. We are few, and with each year, our numbers are fewer. Long have we watched your kinds from afar. We have seen thornskulls, shadowstalkers, and fireeyes make war. We have seen spiritstriders hunt for vrix to drag into the dark.” His bright blue eyes turned to Telok. “We saw your queen cut through vrix like a blade through grass and fill the mire with blood. And we knew such a war would be our unmaking, so we have done as always. Remain unseen and watch with all eyes.”

“And when you tried to take Lacey?” Telok demanded. “Was that hiding or watching?”

Lacey patted his chest gently, and when she spoke, it was in a low voice, just for him. “Be nice.”

Nice? Wen’Xal Tas still drew breath. That was about as nice as Telok could bring himself to be.

Tas bowed his head and brought his forearms together. “I sought only to protect her.”

Telok’s mandibles flared, and it took every thread of his willpower to keep himself in place. “I am her protector.”

The winddancer’s focus shifted to Lacey, making Telok’s hide itch with furious heat, before returning to him. “I saw your war with all eight eyes, saw the savagery, the cruelty. I would shield my Nedrayas from that, and I would shield humans from it as well. They are not for this world, and do not deserve to face such horror.”

Cole snorted. “Guess you guys know English but not human history.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up!” Lacey wriggled in Telok’s arms, pushing against his chest until he reluctantly let her down. As soon as her feet were on the ground, she quickly walked toward the winddancers. “You have other humans with you? More people from the Somnium?”

Biting back a snarl, Telok strode to Lacey, banding his arm around her and pulling her to his side.

She looked up at him. “Telok, what⁠—”

“I am keeping you safe,” he growled, turning his gaze to Tas.

The winddancer’s mandibles twitched. “We will not harm her.”

Telok’s hearts thundered in his chest, and fire swirled in his belly. His instincts insisted Tas was a challenge, a threat, yet he could hear the sincerity in the winddancer’s voice, and…

And Nes’Kahn Shir was right beside Tas, her foreleg hooked over one of his, absently brushing it. They were a mated pair. Tas was not trying to take Lacey as his own. No one was trying to take her.

Ketahn, Rekosh, and Urkot had spoken of this. Of this clash between reason and instinct, of possessiveness distorting friends into enemies. Each of them had been forced to reconcile that inner battle, and now Telok was facing his own struggle against himself.

His need to claim Lacey was overcoming all else. It was devouring him, and it would continue to do so until he took real action. Until his claim on her was solidified and their bond was sealed.

“These humans are ours. Our tribe. Our family.” Telok looked down and met Lacey’s gaze.

And she is mine.

“We understand,” Shir said. “Our human is our family too. Our Nedrayas.”

Lacey frowned. “Human? Just…one?”

Tas sighed, his posture sagging as though he were being dragged down by a great weight, and nodded.

“Shit,” Cole rasped, running his fingers through his hair. “I guess that’s better than none, right? And it means there could be more survivors out there. Could be a lot more.”

“Maybe,” Lacey said. “But there’s no way of knowing where they’d be, if there are any at all. Pieces of the ship could be scattered across hundreds of miles for all we know.”

“We searched for months,” Tas said, “but we couldn’t find any other wreckage. Your ship crashed many years ago. The jungle has long since swallowed its bones.”

Telok could feel the sorrow and disappointment flowing from Lacey. He gentled his hold on her and petted her braid with his upper hand, following it down the line of her back.

“Let us sit in friendship and share words,” Garahk said in vrix. He walked to the entrance of the camp, where he stood his spear against the wall of branches and brambles. The other thornskulls followed his example, leaving their weapons alongside his.

The winddancers exchanged hesitant, questioning glances with each other.

Telok shifted his gaze to his spear and the lock of red hair dangling from it. For so many reasons, he was loath to relinquish it.

Garahk returned to the center of camp and sank down onto the ground, his rear legs folded against his hindquarters and his forelegs bent in front of him. He turned his palms toward the sky. “Mine offer yours peace in our wild den, Wen’Xal Tas.”