Page 3 of The Hunter

He told himself he was watching for danger. Protecting his tribe. But at his core, he knew he was looking for Lacey’s distinct red hair somewhere on Kaldarak’s bridges and platforms. She was the only member of their tribe missing from this gathering. It felt…incomplete without her.

“Where’s Lacey?” Cole’s question struck Telok like a barbed spear, its rope pulling taut to retether his thoughts to the present.

“She’s not here?” Ivy frowned as Ketahn set her on her feet. She crouched to pick up little Akalahn, who’d been reaching for her. “We thought she was here with you guys.”

“We have not seen her,” said Ketahn.

“We thought she had accompanied you, Ivy,” Rekosh added.

Callie shook her head. “She wasn’t with us.”

Telok’s hands flexed, digging his claws into his arms. A fire blossomed in his chest, small but searing, pulsing with each beat of his hearts.

He couldn’t be sure of the target of his frustration. Lacey, for her unannounced absence? The others for not knowing the whereabouts of one of their tribemates? Himself for being equally unaware, or…

Or for possibly being the reason she’d stayed away?

“I will look.” His legs were already moving before the words had fully escaped his mouth.

Telok felt his tribe’s eyes upon him as he strode away. Though his hide tingled beneath their stares, he did not falter, did not so much as glance backward. He could guess at their thoughts.

Why was he going to find Lacey when the two of them couldn’t go more than a few moments without trading glares and barbed words? Why Telok, when she would’ve been happier to see any other member of their tribe?

Because someone had to act. Because he had to act, before idleness allowed his thoughts to run as wild as storm winds tearing through the jungle. It made no difference that there was no cause for alarm, or that there were many simple, likely explanations for her absence.

Lacey might’ve been resting. She might not have been in the mood to attend so large a gathering, which Telok thoroughly related to. Perhaps she’d merely forgotten or had become so focused on her work that she had lost track of time.

Or she knew I would be here and decided not to attend.

The fire in his chest intensified, spreading roiling heat beneath his hide.

Regardless of the reason, he had to know. He had to see, with all eight eyes, that she was all right.

And if she was avoiding him…it was for the best, wasn’t it? The best for both of them. But she didn’t need to deny herself the company of her friends to stay away from him.

His path led him across Kaldarak to the human dens at the far edge, which had been built upon three platforms connected by wooden stairs. The lowest, largest platform held Will and Diego’s den, from which they provided healing to the tribe, and a bigger building the humans called the lounge. They sometimes gathered there to eat and hang out, though as far as Telok knew, there was no hanging involved. The uppermost platform held Cole’s den, with its impressively crafted deck.

But Telok’s eyes fixated upon the middle den on the middle platform, nestled between the dwellings that had not long ago belonged to Callie and Ahmya. Now only Lacey resided there, her friends having moved into larger dens with their vrix mates.

He ascended the stairs to the second platform, making no effort to quiet his stride upon the floor planks. The sound seemed to echo between the trees; it was much quieter here with the sounds of the ongoing games well behind him, leaving only the continuous rush of the waterfall and birdsongs from the Tangle to fill the emptiness.

Telok halted before the entrance to Lacey’s den. A white silk curtain, stitched with dyed thread to create ivy and flowers patterns, hung across the opening, swaying slightly in the gentle breeze.

A trace of her scent brushed over the fine hairs on his legs, and a shudder coursed through him.

This was foolish. But…he would see it through to the end.

“Come, Lacey,” he said, the words scratching his throat. “The others await.”

Leaves rustled overhead. Cheers erupted at Kaldarak’s heart, made ghostly by the distance. Only silence came from Lacey’s den.

“Lacey,” he growled, hands curling into fists at his sides.

She’d often made use of this tactic—the human cold shoulder—in her dealings with Telok. It irked him far more than he cared to admit.

The beating of his hearts marked the passing moments. He fought to keep his mandibles from snapping together, to keep from digging his claws deep enough into his palms to draw blood, to keep from thumping and scraping a leg on the platform.

He’d barely counted ten beats when he thrust out a hand, swept aside the curtain, and ducked through the opening. “I will not⁠—”