Page 93 of The Hunter

His mandibles twitched, and his muscles relaxed.

She wasn’t staring at the other male with desire. Not at all. What had entranced Lacey wasn’t the dancer, but the dance itself and what it represented—the closeness and devotion shared by the two winddancers and the intimacy with which they moved.

That was what his Lacey wanted. That connection, that twining of two souls, much like he’d seen between his friends and their mates.

Could Telok give that to her? Could he give her…love?

Leave it to humans and their complicated, confusing language to instill so simple a word with such immense, powerful, impossible meaning. How could that tiny word encompass so much and yet explain so little?

Though his knowledge was lacking on the matter of mates, he knew those bonds required both individuals to bare their spirits, to share their khahal—the truth of their hearts—completely, no matter how dark and painful.

It would mean Telok’s heartsthread would be bound to Lacey’s, and the shields he’d kept around his hearts and spirit would be forever lowered. It would mean feeling everything with her.

And it would mean that losing her would be the end of him.

Do I not feel that way already?

As Telok watched his female, he longed for her face to turn toward him, for her eyes to shine for him, for her smile to widen for him. He hooked a thick strand of her hair with his claw and tucked it behind her delicate, rounded ear, which he traced with his finger.

Telok’s hearts stuttered when she turned those eyes and that smile to him. And he saw it then, saw the subtle softening of her lips, saw his yearning reflected in her gaze.

The music ended, followed immediately by a surge of cheers, chitters, and the thumping of hands and legs on the floor planks.

Once again, Lacey’s attention was snatched away from Telok. She looked at the two winddancers, clapping and adding her own voice to the din.

He forced himself to breathe slow and deep. The distraction would pass, and they would claim another moment.

“Lacey!” called Cole, his voice barely audible over the noise.

Telok snapped his gaze to the male human hurrying toward them.

Lacey stopped clapping and returned her hands to Telok’s leg as Cole stopped in front of them.

“Shit, Lace, I need your help,” he said, sounding winded. “I don’t know what to do.”

Lacey’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sophia.”

She tensed and looked in the woman’s direction. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. Not…yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Cole drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Sophia… Fuck. She wants to fuck me.”

Lacey jabbed a finger at him. “Cole, are you⁠—”

“Her words, not mine!” he rushed to say, waving his hands in front of him as though to ward off whatever reprimand Lacey had been about to give. “And I…”

He combed his fingers through his hair and groaned, turning his eyes skyward. “What do I do? We just met, and I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, even if she wants it.”

Telok had never seen Cole behave this way. Usually, the human was calm, confident, and in good spirits, jesting often and rarely letting anything bother him. In his own words, he just rolled with it.

Lacey chuckled.

Cole glared at her. “It’s not funny! I’m being serious here. She’s so fucking hot, and I want her. What are the odds of us meeting another surviving human woman? Like, none!”