Page 19

"I have seen the females of the Oru-ka," he murmured, his voice a guttural hum that vibrated against my bare skin. "They are muscle and scarred hide. Built for the canopy."

He shifted one hand, his thumb tracing the curve of my waist, moving upward until it rested just beneath the swell of my breast. I gasped, my breath hitching in a jagged sob.

"You," he continued, his eyes finally snapping up to meet mine with a ferocity that made my knees weak. "You are... Vra-ka shei." He trailed off, the alien words sounding like a prayer. "You have no business being this... soft... in a place that wants to kill you."

He suddenly seemed to snap out of the trance, his expression hardening into something stern, almost angry. He looked me dead in the eye, his voice sounding like he could snap at any second.

"Be still," he commanded, his voice a low warning. "One last time, Ly-ra."

He slowly leaned down, his face moving toward mine. My heart stopped. My mental focus shattered into a thousand pieces as his nose brushed against my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath catching, waiting for... I didn't even know what. A kiss? A bite?

But he didn't touch my lips.

Instead, I felt the wet, hot slide of his tongue. I opened one eye slowly, watching from inches away as his dark, forked tongue emerged, circling the stubborn strand of hair at my temple that I’d been fidgeting with. Up close, it was fascinating and terrifying—the way it moved with independent precision, its slight ridges working through the sap with powerful strokes.

I watched, mesmerised by the primal intimacy of it. A stray, flickering thought crossed my mind—if his tongue can do that to hair, what else could it...

I caught myself, my face heating up as I mentally shook the thought away. Stop it. He’s an alien. He just killed a guy. Focus!

Abruptly, Kaelen pulled back. He released his hand from my hip, his claw dragging slightly against my skin in a way that left a faint, tingling trail behind. He looked at me, his eyes still dark but his expression distant, as if he couldn't bear to be in the water with me for another second.

"Stay here," he said, his voice tight. He began to back away toward the edge of the pool, the crimson water splashing against his thighs. "The sap is loosened. I will fetch Sora and the others to finish the grooming. They will bring the oils."

He didn't wait for a response. He turned and waded out of the spring without a backward glance. He vanished into the steam of the grotto, leaving me shivering in the red water, my heart still racing and the side of my face still burning from the heat of his tongue.

What the fuck just happened…

I didn't move. I couldn't. I remained standing in the centre of the crimson pool, the water lapping softly at my thighs, my skin prickling as the steam swirled around me like a ghostly shroud. The spot on my temple where Kaelen’s tongue had worked was cold now, the air hitting the dampness he’d left behind, but my heart was still performing a frantic, irregular rhythm against my ribs.

The silence that followed his departure was heavy, broken only by the drip-drop of water from the ceiling and the distant, haunting calls of the forest above. I looked down at the pool's surface, my reflection distorted in the red ripples. I looked... haunted. And far too flushed.

The peace didn't last long.

The vine curtain at the grotto’s entrance was thrown back with a violent rustle. I flinched, half-expecting Vahn to return with reinforcements, but it was Sora and Mara.

They were scurrying, their long strides hurried and their ears pinned back in a display of high-strung anxiety. They were chattering at each other in a rapid-fire sequence of clicks and trills that sounded frantic. They had clearly run into Kaelen on his way out, and from the looks on their faces, the encounter had been harrowing.

"K'shara vahn, Sora! Kaelen-Thul is..." Mara started, her voice a rough hiss, but she cut herself off mid-sentence.

Both of them skidded to a halt at the edge of the stone basin. Their amber eyes weren't on me—not at first. They were fixed on the crumpled, broken form of the male lying on the grotto floor. The one whose neck Kaelen had snapped.

The silence that fell over them was visceral. Sora’s tail went stiff, her markings flickering a pale, worried yellow. Mara stepped closer to the body, her nostrils flaring as she caught the scent of the kill and the lingering ozone of Kaelen’s fury. She looked at the bruised throat of the dead warrior, then slowly she lifted her head to look at me in the water.

Her expression was no longer one of mere disgust. It was a mixture of shock and a new, sharp kind of questioning. She looked at me as if she were seeing a ghost—or a death sentence.

"The Huntmaster... he did this?" Sora whispered, her English shaky. She looked from the body to me, her eyes scanning my exposed skin. "For you?"

I swallowed hard, crossing my arms over my chest as the cold finally started to seep into my bones. "Vahn sent them. They wouldn't leave. Kaelen found them."

Sora and Mara exchanged a look of profound realisation. To them, the death of a tribesman wasn't just a fight; it was a statement. Kaelen-Thul hadn't just protected a "guest"; he had executed a member of his own kind to keep me untouched.

Mara let out a low, mournful trill, but she didn't argue. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a handful of large, silver-veined Vra-leaves. She waded into the water, her heavy movements making the pool surge. She didn't look me in the eye, but the aggression was gone, replaced by a strange, stiff respect. She moved behind me, crushing the leaves between her palms. A thick, iridescent violet oil oozed from the fibres, smelling of crushed violets and ancient earth.

"Sora?" I asked softly as their hands began to massage the oil into my scalp, the knots finally sliding apart like silk.

"Yes, Ly-ra?"

"What did he call me? Right before he left? Vra-ka shei?"