Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Tingles coursed through Ahmya from her scalp all the way to her toes. Rekosh offering to braid her hair had been such a simple, kind gesture. Except his touch was anything but simple. He turned braiding her hair into a sensual act. It was soothing, intimate, and arousing. Heat kindled within her, building with every brush of his claws. And it took everything inside of Ahmya to remain still, to prevent a moan from slipping past her lips.
As he separated her hair into sections, his claws grazed the back of her neck. That hint of pleasure-pain sent a jolt through her nerves, making her nipples harden and her core clench. Ahmya drew in a sharp breath.
His fingers stilled, and he shifted closer. “Did I harm you, Ahmya?”
She opened her eyes to find him leaning beside her, his bright red eyes filled with concern.
“N-No,” she said, voice breathier than she intended. “I’m fine.”
He flattened a hand over her hair, smoothing it down. “You are sure? ”
Ahmya smiled. “Just a graze. Didn’t hurt at all.”
The pad of Rekosh’s thumb stroked the back of her neck with tantalizing delicacy. Ahmya shivered, and her skin prickled in awareness. Her lips parted with a shaky breath.
To have him touch me in such a way all over…
“Good,” he rumbled.
He repositioned himself behind her and continued sectioning off her hair. Ahmya stared ahead, attempting to keep watch, to focus on anything other than the feel of his fingers working, but she couldn’t help it when her lashes drooped. Though the heat within her didn’t fade, there was something relaxing about having someone tending to her hair.
And that someone just happened to be a seven-foot-tall vrix who definitely knew how to use his hands.
A strong breeze swept around Ahmya, chilling her sweat-dampened skin and serving as a balm to the fire burning inside her. It carried all the scents of the jungle, earthy and sweet, and whispered of rain. It also flooded her senses with something more, something spicy and warm.
Rekosh.
Teak and amber with a hint of lavender.
Ahmya drew in a deep breath, allowing his scent to suffuse her. She wanted more of it.
Lacey chuckled. “I leave you two alone for a moment and you’re playing salon?”
Ahmya opened her eyes with a start. Lacey stood several feet away with her hands on her hips.
Smiling sheepishly, Ahmya said, “You’re just jealous you don’t have someone braiding your hair.”
“Maybe I am.” Lacey twisted her hair up, lifting it off her neck, and fanned herself with a hand. “It’s so humid that I’m thinking about chopping it all off.”
“I’ve considered cutting mine too.”
Rekosh raised a free hand, displaying his claws. “I will cut Lacey’s hair now. Very fast. But you must keep yours, Ahmya. It is too pretty to cut.”
Lacey looked at Rekosh drolly. “Wow. Thanks. Rude.” She dropped her hair and bent down, picking up her full basket. “Guess I’ll take my ugly hair and go.”
Ahmya gaped. “Your hair isn’t ugly at all!”
“Not ugly,” Rekosh agreed. “Telok likes your fire hair.”
Rolling her eyes, Lacey said, “Seems to be the only thing he likes.”
“So I did hear hyu-nanz ,” Okkor said in vrix, drawing Ahmya’s attention toward him. The thornskull approached with an easy stride, his green hide blending well with the surrounding vegetation. He carried two baskets, each laden with fruits, vegetables, and mushrooms, including many round, white moonblossom fruits.
“Two full baskets?” Lacey remarked. “Someone’s showing off.”
Rekosh chittered and said in vrix, “The Tangle is bountiful today.”
“It is true under cloud and leaf,” Okkor replied. “But rain scent dances on the air, weaver. I return to our wild den to make ready for what may come.”
A soft hum escaped Rekosh. “A wise choice.”
Okkor continued past them, walking toward the camp. “Come soon, weaver. You may share words while we wait out the coming rain. Then we will know if your words fall faster than raindrops.”
“It would take quite the storm to outmatch me, Okkor.”
“Is he heading back to camp?” Lacey asked.
“Yes,” Ahmya replied.
“Oh hey, wait up!” Lacey snatched up her basket and hurried after Okkor. Over her shoulder, she said, “I’m all full, so I’m going to go back with him.”
Ahmya chuckled. “Okay. We’ll probably do the same soon, since my basket is almost full as well. See you there!”
“Good journey,” Rekosh said, perhaps a little too pleasantly.
Balancing the basket on her hip precariously, Lacey raised her hand and waved.
Okkor slowed, waiting for Lacey to reach him, and chittered softly. “Stay close, hyu-nan .”
She gave him a thumbs up, then spat a curse as her off-balance basket nearly tipped. Ahmya covered her mouth and watched as Lacey stumbled forward a few steps, somehow managing to keep anything from falling out of her basket.
“All good,” Lacey shouted once she’d recovered. She and Okkor were soon out of sight.
Rekosh’s fingers moved as he finished the braid. He tied something around it, hesitated, and then stepped back. “Done, vi’keishi . Beautiful, as always.”
Warmth flooded Ahmya’s cheeks. As she turned toward him, she ran her hand over her hair and paused. “Oh my gosh. Rekosh…” She lifted her other hand and traced the design with her fingertips. “This is…”
The pattern he’d woven her hair into was so intricate, so elegant, that Ahmya couldn’t believe he’d created it that quickly. When she reached the tail of the braid, she pulled it over her shoulder. The end was tied off with red silk, bright against her black hair.
Ahmya couldn’t help but wonder if this was a small claim on his part—his color, his mark.
Rekosh trilled. “You are pleased?”
She looked up and smiled widely at him. “I wish I could see it.”
His eyes softened. Easing closer, he lifted his lower arms and took her hands in his, curling his long, rough fingers around them. “There is something else I would have you see. Something I would give you.”
Ahmya’s breath hitched. She knew. Knew what he was going to say, what he was going to confess. She’d had this same feeling when he’d come to her den the other day and taken her hands exactly like this.
Tiny drops of rain lighted upon her heated skin.
Ahmya tightened her fingers around Rekosh’s and lowered her gaze, studying the rigid, armor-like sections of his torso. His hide darkened where raindrops landed.
She watched the water trickle over his hide and glisten in the fading sunlight. “You don’t have to give me anything, Rekosh.”
He caught her chin with the fingers of his upper hand and tipped her face up toward his. All eight eyes, bright red, intense, and piercing, looked down at her as though there was nothing else to see in the universe. “Ahmya… I said it is a need and a want. My gift, my words.”
Ahmya’s belly was aflutter. She’d known early on that Rekosh had taken an interest in her. It’d been clear from the moment he’d introduced himself in the pit—the way he’d bowed and curled a finger beneath hers, the careful but smooth way he’d attempted to pronounce her name.
She’d seen it every time he looked upon her, spoke to her, touched her. Rekosh cared for everyone in their little tribe, but he was most protective of her. Most… possessive of her.
Callie had told her what had happened while Ahmya had been unconscious after the firevine attack. Rekosh had been a mess. Pacing frantically, fidgeting, constantly turning his gaze back to Ahmya. Even with one of his arms dangling numb at his side from the firevine’s paralytic venom, his only concern had been for her. When Diego had cut away Ahmya’s clothing to treat her wounds, Rekosh had nearly fought him.
He'd refused to allow another male to tend her wounds, refused to let another male touch her.
That night, unable to fit inside the small cave in which the humans had sheltered, Rekosh had lain on the ground with his body exposed to the rain just to be near Ahmya.
Why had she fought so hard against what she knew deep down to be true? Why had she allowed her fear of the unknown, of what he was, to prevent her from seeing what was right before her eyes, to stop her from recognizing what lay within her own heart?
I want him too.
It didn’t matter how large he was, how frightening he’d been at first. It didn’t matter that he was of a different species. He was Rekosh.
He was kind and considerate, funny and witty. When things were at their bleakest, he was a spot of brightness. When danger loomed, he was the fiercest of protectors, throwing himself into danger to safeguard the people he cared about. She loved talking with him, learning from him, and teaching him in turn. She loved his curiosity and passion. And the way her body responded to him… A single brush of his fingers was all it took to make her crave more.
He was everything she’d yearned for.
The rain fell a little harder, a little faster. Rekosh’s eyes narrowed in irritation, and a growl rolled in his chest. He tipped his head back and glared at the gloomy sky.
With a soft laugh, Ahmya brought their hands to her chest and pressed her face against the fingers holding her chin, gently rubbing them with her cheek.
Rekosh’s gaze snapped back to her, eyes wide.
She softened her smile. “I would hear your words, Rekosh.”
A shiver coursed through him, flowing directly into her from where they touched. It was followed by a low hum, the sound brimming with eagerness and anticipation. His mandibles rose in a vrix smile.
“Ah, kir’ani vi’keishi …” He stroked her jaw. Despite the thick, ha rd calluses on his fingers, his touch was gentle. But that gentleness still sent a pulse of warmth through her body.
Rekosh withdrew his hands, trailing his fingers over her skin as he did so—as though he were loath to break contact. She nearly swayed toward him to follow. Her next inhalation was shallow, shaky, strained.
So much roiled just beneath the surface. So much desire and emotion, so much that she’d held inside for far too long because of shame, fear, and uncertainty. It all threatened to burst out, here and now. Though she’d not admitted it to herself, Rekosh had awoken things within her, passions and yearnings, that she’d never experienced.
And all she had to do was embrace them.
Embrace him .
“For a big time, I have known, Ahmya.” His words were careful, measured, as he grasped the strap of his bag and slid it around to his front. “My eyes saw you, my hearts felt you, and my soul sang for you.”
She clasped her hands against her belly both to keep them from trembling and to keep herself from reaching for him. Her eyes dipped to watch his clever fingers take hold of the silk string that kept his bag closed.
“Ahmya, you are my?—”
The brush rustled somewhere behind her.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and a fresh shiver stole through her, emanating from her spine in a cold wave.
Rekosh’s chin ticked upward, and his fingers froze. Despite his lack of pupils, Ahmya knew he was looking past her. His mandibles spread wider.
“Shitfuck,” he rasped.
“I’m guessing those aren’t the words you’ve been wanting to share,” Ahmya said, her voice coming out small, thin, and unsteady.
Distant thunder rolled across the sky, but she barely noticed it. Neither did she notice the sound of heavier, faster raindrops pattering on the surrounding vegetation. The only noise she truly registered was an ululating growl from behind her.
Against her better judgment, she turned her head to peek over her shoulder. Her stomach plummeted.
A beast stood in the open not thirty feet behind her. She glimpsed a sleek, narrow head, long limbs, dark blue fur and a full green mane. It was at least as large as a mountain lion.
And its predatory yellow eyes were fixed on her.
Great. Another wild animal that wants to eat me.
And here she was having broken one of Ketahn’s golden rules—she was unarmed.
The creature burst into motion, muscles rippling beneath its short fur as it charged toward her.
Ahmya cried out, flinching away from the creature. She’d barely moved an inch when a pair of long, powerful arms banded around her and swept her off the ground.
Instinctively, she threw her arms around Rekosh’s neck, clamped her thighs around his sides, and clung to him.
“I have you.” His voice rumbled into her. It was strong enough, clear and steady enough, to overcome the deafening pounding of her heart and the thrumming fear radiating from her bones.
He swung his bag behind his back, snatched up his spear in his right hands, and twisted his torso, angling Ahmya away from the charging beast as he thrust his weapon.
She felt the impact jolt through him, and she heard the faint squelching of punctured flesh, the crunch of breaking bone, and a bestial whine. Something heavy crashed onto the ground before Rekosh. The beast thrashed, disturbing the detritus. Rekosh raised his forelegs, growled, and slammed them down.
The struggles ceased. Ahmya felt his muscles tense as he tore his spear free .
She released a shaky breath and eased her grip on Rekosh. “What was?—”
“Hold,” he commanded. “Tight.”
Before she could even wonder why he’d tell her to do so, Rekosh broke into a run. The sudden movement jostled her. Ahmya dug her fingers into his hide as she clutched him—not that his arms would’ve let her fall.
She blinked raindrops from her eyes. Trees and plants whipped past on either side. Over Rekosh’s shoulder, she saw the spot where they’d been foraging only moments ago growing increasingly distant in the deepening gloom, which meant their camp was growing increasingly distant.
Why were they moving away from camp? Away from the others?
Was Lacey okay? Had she and Okkor made it back safely?
A chill crept through Ahmya’s veins, coiled in her chest, and constricted. The thought of her friend being harmed was far scarier than any danger this jungle could throw at her.
“Rekosh, we need to find the others!”
“No,” he replied.
“But—”
A pulse of lightning illuminated the jungle. Multiple pairs of yellow eyes flashed in the surrounding shadows, all directed at Ahmya. That instant of light was enough for her to make out the dark, bestial forms attached to those eyes giving chase to Rekosh.
Every hair on Ahmya’s body rose in alarm. She curled her fingers, pressing her nails even more firmly into his hide.
“Um, Rekosh…”