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He isn’t as certain as he sounds, but he does have hope. He hasn’t told the others what he smelled that morning in her tent. Arousal—thick and potent, almost dizzying. He can’t be certain that she satisfied herself in his bed, but he thinks she might have and the thought has kept him half hard in his sheath all day, the sensitive head chafing against the inside of his pants where it peeks out.
She will be there. Thon needs her to be.
It takes some effort not to quicken his pace when they near their camp. The hounds have gone ahead, released from their duties for the day, and they flow through the forest like liquid and fur, their merry yips trailing after them even once they are out of sight. Twilight falls quickly beneath the trees and Thon can see their fire long before the camp comes into view. He thinks his strides might lengthen, but he isn’t alone. His brothers are curious, too.
When he comes into the clearing and sees Krista perched there beside the burner, the buck slides from Thon’s shoulders and hits the ground hard.
Because that’s his coat bundled around her.
She iswearinghis coat.
Pel jabs him in the side as he passes, turning and walking backward a few paces so he can wink.
“I have made my decision,” she announces without preamble, managing somehow to look like a queen perched on her throne. Even Noss stops to hear her.
She stares up at them determinedly, her mind made up. Whatever she has decided, she will not be swayed from it. She sets her lips. “I will enter into your bargain.”
Later, Thon might regret that he did not catch the look on Noss’s face, but his eyes are fixed firmly on Krista like she has him magically snared. He doesn’t even consider looking away.
“Have you also chosen the father?”
Krista’s nod is nothing more than the tiniest tip of her chin. Then her eyes meet his and he knows with absolute certainty what she will say next. He feels it with the inevitability of prophecy—can see the truth of it in her gaze.
“If you agree, then the child will be yours.”
Gradually, life resumes. Noss carries on with a quiet, “Huh,” headed for the cart with his burden. Pel settles in by the fire with his rabbits, ready to prepare their dinner. And Thon … shakes himself awake.
“I agree,” he hears himself say. Was that even in question? Slowly, he kneels to retrieve the buck from the forest floor, settling it across his shoulders without looking away from Krista. “I will … return momentarily.”
She tilts her head in a single nod but watches Thon maneuver his unwieldy burden, her eyes flicking curiously over the buck. He hopes that she has noted its size and weight and how easily he lifts it. Strutting is unnecessary and demeaning, but the impulse exists.
Thon must remind himself that this arrangement is not meant to be as thrilling as it is. This is a trade, not a courtship.
Noss waits for him at the cart, a silent and steady presence. He says nothing as Thon tips the buck onto the back with the first, but Noss nods and claps his brother on the shoulder when they move to return to camp.
“I guess this means we don’t have to sleep in a pile?”Pel asks hopefully as Thon and Noss return. His enthusiasm is understandable. Fitting three adult males in a tent designed for two is a challenging process.
“That is up to Krista.”
She looks up when she hears her name, but they have been using their language, not hers. Now that he is closer, Thon can tell that she is nervous. Her fingers twist and untwist in her lap, her attention moving restlessly over the camp. When Thon takes a seat opposite her rather than alongside, she relaxes. Then tenses again.
Thon remains semi-hard all through dinner preparation, but it’s easier to hide with movement. Over dinner, however, he must spread his legs to accommodate a very insistent erection. Thon does not have his coat to conceal it, either. Krista has that, and it ought to be humiliating to let his brothers see howlittleit takes to make him so wanton. All Krista has to do is show up wearing his clothing and he’s done for.
But when Krista notices, all thoughts of humiliation disperse into the air like smoke, because her cheeks turn pink, ruining her careful stoicism as she nearly chokes on her stew. Encouraged by her reaction, Thon parts his knees for her, letting the sizable bulge in his pants shift under the thin leather. She eats a little faster.
It seems too good, too unbelievable to be true. Here he has a female—aHumanfemale—looking between his legs with real desire.
At last, she sets her empty bowl aside and stands, shifting awkwardly in place. “Um. Are we going to …”
“Yes,” Thon says as calmly as he can manage. “We should begin.”
Pel waits for her to climb into the tent before he leans over, knocking his shoulder into Thon’s.“You’re welcome.”
“For?”
The youngest grins, showing teeth in the Human way that means humor, not the Harkurian way which means violence. Pel reaches down to grab the front of his own pants.“You know what for.”
“Your dick isn’t that great,”Noss growls, smacking him in the back of the shoulder with his fist as he passes.“Come and help me dress the bucks.”
