Page 92 of The Hunter

He released a heavy breath and stood straight, easing his grip as he looked down at Lacey. She pressed her lips together as though to hide a smile, but she couldn’t hide the dark blush that had blossomed on her cheeks.

Lacey patted his chest with a soft chuckle. “False alarm, huh?”

Eager whispers rippled amongst the winddancers. Only then did Telok realize that both the music and the conversation had fallen quiet while he’d held Lacey. He pried his gaze away from her to see the winddancers clearing a wide space at the center of the platform, the patterns on the males’ fur glowing in the new light as they led their thornskull guests aside. The crowd reseated themselves in a broad ring.

“What’s going on?” Lacey asked.

“I do not know,” Telok replied. Confusion slowed his racing hearts and dulled their thunderous beats, but their echoes throbbed throughout his body.

A drum began playing, and the onlookers hushed. It was a slow, steady, simple rhythm, not unlike the heartbeat of a vrix at rest. Anticipation built in the silence between those thumps. The crowd turned their attention skyward.

Telok and Lacey looked up. A lone figure hovered above the platform, visible only by the slight glow of his red and gold markings—a male winddancer hanging upside down.

Slowly, the male descended, his form growing more distinct as he neared the firelight. The merest shimmers above him betrayed the pair of silk strands connecting him to the branches shrouded in darkness overhead.

With three quick, heavy beats, the drum stopped. So too did the male, dangling at least ten segments over the platform. That anticipation crackled in the air, reaching a new peak. The male’s arms were tucked over his chest, and all six legs were bent as though hooked onto the main strand suspending him.

Lacey pulled away from Telok. He wanted nothing more than to drag her back, carry her off to somewhere secluded, and seize both this moment and his mate while everyone else was distracted. Instead, he followed her over to the others and positioned himself beside her as she stopped to watch the display over the heads of the seated winddancers.

Overhead, the hanging male held his body utterly still while he slowly spread four of his legs. His forelegs pointed down, and his middle legs stretched straight out to the sides.

His rear legs shifted, slicing one of the ropes.

Several drums burst into a pounding, lively beat as the male swung over the crowd. His arms and legs moved, altering his path and making him rotate on the end of the strand even as it swung him in a wide circle. His patterns flashed with dizzying speed, and his limbs sketched ghostly patterns, looking impossibly more numerous due to the speed of his motions.

“Wow,” Lacey breathed.

Though the male’s spinning kept its speed, the swinging circle shrank as his descent resumed.

When he was only a couple segments over the platform, he bent his torso to grasp the strand in his upper hands, curled his legs inward, and spun in place, faster and faster until his body was nothing more than a blur of scintillating color.

As the male’s momentum faded, he flipped himself, twisting in the air to land gracefully on his legs with the rope already cut away. His head snapped toward a female sitting nearby who stared at him with wide, gleaming orange eyes.

The drums changed again, their rhythm becoming slower but heavier.

Following the music, the male began moving again. The fur on his hindquarters rose and fell as he danced, altering its pattern and the way it caught the firelight, shimmering like sunshine on a river. It complimented the smoothness and fluidity of his movements flawlessly. The effect was sensual, seductive, and primal. The male’s glowing yellow eyes did not stray from the enrapt female for even the length of a heartbeat.

Telok glanced at Lacey. She was transfixed by the display, wonderment plain upon her face. Had she blinked even once this whole time?

A growl rumbled in Telok’s chest, swallowed by the drums.

His mate was enthralled by another male. Instinctual fury ignited in him, and he gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to charge forward and meet this challenge directly.

No.

Telok shook his head sharply and dug his forelegs into the wooden boards beneath him. He couldn’t allow himself to do that, couldn’t throw away the new friendship between the winddancers and Kaldarak with a single impulsive act. But gods grant him strength, neither could he remain idle while this dancer mesmerized his mate.

Shifting closer to Lacey, Telok slipped an arm around her and drew her against him, tucking her body between his front and middle leg—using the former as an additional barrier between her and the dancer.

She nestled against him absently, resting her hands on his bent foreleg without looking away from the dance.

His finger’s flexed, pricking her hip with his claws.

The dancing male approached the orange-eyed female, stretching his forelegs toward her. She brushed them with her own. Then he hooked his legs around hers and drew her upright.

They twirled together, hands meeting palm to palm, fingers lacing. Their heads lowered until their headcrests touched.

Leaning forward, Telok studied Lacey’s face. There was a warm smile on her lips and a soft light in her green eyes. The light of dreaming, of quiet longing. He shifted his gaze to the two winddancers, who continued their dance intertwined, and back to Lacey several times before the threads in his mind connected.