Chapter 2 Thaleo #2
All three of the new women, Nazreen included, cast their gazes towards my seated men. They were considering it, clearly.
“Then let them go hungry,” Dalk suddenly growled, a possessive sweep of his sight stars going to Fiona.
Fiona, it seemed, had other plans. If the new women had taught me anything so far, it was that they did not cower or easily acquiesce to the will of any male.
Even a Gahn.
“Knock it off, Dalk,” she called over. “We’re not going to make everybody sit there hungry all morning.
You guys need energy for the next rounds of the vaklok.
Besides, we haven’t eaten, either. And I’m pretty sure none of us are going to want to sit here stuffing our faces while you’re all watching. ”
“So you would serve these males?” Dalk asked, aiming a violent and disbelieving claw towards my own men, “even knowing what it means to them?”
What it meant to them. The ceremonial gifting of a tiny slice of the new women’s future.
“It doesn’t have to mean that to me,” Fiona retorted. “I’m just delivering breakfast over here. That’s it.”
Tilly and Nazreen moved their heads up and down. An odd gesture, but one I had come to learn meant something like agreement. Dalk did not respond to Fiona, and nor did anyone else say anything.
The moment became hushed. Waiting. Waiting for me to refute what Fiona had just said. If anyone else had made such a claim – that the ceremonial delivery of the meals meant nothing – it would have been expected that I correct that person. And in previous times, I would have.
But previous times did not include Nazreen.
They did not include the strange and beautiful female – whom I had no right to – walking away from me to serve other men.
My own men. The men whose needs were supposed to come before my own, always before my own, because I was Gahn and as Gahn, I had disappeared. I had no wants. I had no needs.
And yet I needed Nazreen to hold herself back, in some way, from this ceremony. I needed her to deliver food and nothing more.
I needed her to hold herself for…
I would not say for me. Even if I felt it.
And so I said nothing as the Sea Sand men finally sat.
Dalk in particular did not seem pleased about it, and it was clear to see it was for the same reason I myself experienced.
He wanted Fiona. He wanted her entirely for himself.
He could barely summon the will to sit still and watch as she loaded up bone trays for the other men.
I could barely summon the will to stand still and watch Nazreen do the same.
The three new women walked, bone trays balanced on their short and slender arms, delivering food to the vaklok’s competitors. My sight stars followed Nazreen’s form with a hunger that shamed me. I could not lie to myself and pretend that gnawing emptiness was for the food she carried.
She was taller than the other two human females, though not as tall as Valeria.
She moved with a graceful, controlled gait, the gentle curve of her hips swaying slightly as she did so.
I still was not used to the lack of tail on the new women.
Watching her from behind, my view of her backside completely unimpeded by the flesh of a tail, made arousal stir hot and angry inside me.
My legs tensed. My foot almost moved to step towards her.
I sat heavily down upon the bench.
While my eyes were focused solely on Nazreen, her walking and bending body dragging my sight stars from place to place on the stone, my ears picked up words from all around me.
“Do you think any of them will be mated to our men?” a child asked in a whisper from somewhere behind me. It sounded like it might be Wanda.
“I don’t know. It is very exciting, though,” came another whisper, likely from her sister. “I feel like we are watching something special. Like the beginning of three couples’ futures.”
I ground my fangs together, keeping my expression composed as I vehemently hoped for the opposite, at least in Nazreen’s case.
Right now, she was bending down to offer food to one of my very own warriors.
Such a sight should have given me only joy.
Satisfaction to see a new female among us, participating in our ceremonies, potentially destined for the very man she angled her tray towards.
But I felt none of those things. Felt nothing worthy of a Gahn.
At the very least, Nazreen did not pause long in front of any man.
She did not offer broad smiles. She did not engage in lengthy conversations with anyone.
Not even Zoren, whose painted face looked up at me from Nazreen’s place on the bench where she had left it.
She did not linger like Fiona did with Dalk, nor was she the focus of my right-hand man Warrek’s attention as Tilly was.
Finally tearing my gaze from her, I watched with some interest as Warrek gave Tilly a lusty grin.
“So, we meet again,” he said, sight stars glinting as they took in Tilly’s small form.
“Yes!” she replied with a laugh. “I certainly seem to be making the rounds! There’s a lot of food on these trays! Want anything else?”
“There is something that I want,” Warrek replied, his sight stars never straying from Tilly’s face, “but it is not food.”
Bold. Bolder than I was used to him behaving. He had never engaged with an unmated female in such a fashion. He hoped for a mate – as all Deep Sky men did – but he’d never demonstrated a desire for any particular female before.
Until now.
“Oh?” Tilly replied. “And what is that?”
Warrek stood, his hard, warrior’s body looming over Tilly like some great thing carved of stone.
Tilly was the shortest new woman I had encountered thus far and Warrek among the tallest of my tribe.
He leaned down a little, his smile teasing and easy, his sight stars penetrating as he drawled, “I noticed that you bear the face of the warrior Oxriel in your hands while you watch the vaklok.”
“Oh!” Tilly said, her voice squeaking, “We just… Well, we wanted to cheer them on. There are only three of them compared to, what, fifteen of you competing? Plus, we just didn’t have time to make them for everyone.”
“You did not need to make them for everyone,” Warrek countered. “Only one other man.”
This truly was a side of Warrek I had never seen before. He had always been a confident male – and so he should be, considering his strength and competence – but I’d never witnessed him speak to a female like this.
“I hope that in the next vaklok,” he said smoothly and without hesitation, without shame, “it will be my face you hold up. Or perhaps even more than that, I hope that in the next vaklok I will not be competing at all. And you will not be handing out food with the unmated women as you do now.”
I felt my sight stars twitch with astonishment.
Warrek had, just about as plainly as he could have, declared that he wanted Tilly for his mate.
He’d hauled his hopes and desires up into his mouth like it was nothing at all.
As easily as he might simply thank her for the food, he told her that he wanted her and wanted her badly.
That he’d share his life with her, put cubs inside her, take care of her, and honour her.
And Tilly, for her part, was smiling about it as Warrek walked away.
My gaze went back to Nazreen, an involuntary snap of my sight stars, as if my body feared she’d disappeared.
What would it be like, to approach the reserved Nazreen the way Warrek had just done?
Not that I would ever do such a thing.
I do not want and I do not bleed.
But if that were true, then…
Why did I feel like there was a wound inside me? Like an arrow had been lodged somewhere deep in my chest for ages, the stone stuck fast, staunching even as it sliced.
It was as if Nazreen had found the arrow’s shaft, and without a word or even a glance from those green eyes, had seized on it…
And pulled.
My breathing remained slow and rhythmic even as I sat tense with imaginary pain. Imaginary, because there was nothing wrong with my body.
Pain, because it hurt me anyway.