Chapter 38
The journey back to Kaldarak was arduous.
Injuries slowed the party’s pace, and the muggy heat was as miserable as always, but Lacey kept silent, not wanting to complain.
Though she had lingering aches and bruises from the fight against the kurghests, it was her side that hurt most of all, and she was immensely grateful that Telok had insisted she ride atop him.
It would’ve been agonizing to walk the whole way.
She couldn’t imagine how much it would’ve sucked to trudge up hills, stumble down slopes, climb over roots, and clamber over rocks when simply sitting on Telok’s hindquarters was painful enough.
She felt every bump and jostle, even with him being careful.
But that didn’t stop her from being plagued by guilt.
Though he pushed on as though they were no bother, Telok had suffered many wounds during the hunt.
Lacey knew vrix healed far more swiftly than humans, but they were not impervious to pain.
She felt his pace subtly faltering as the day wore on, noted the care he took not to disturb the worst of his wounds with his movements, and saw the stiffness in his limbs when they settled down to rest for the night.
When she tried to argue with him about carrying her the next day, he brushed off her worries. She demanded he let her walk.
“No,” he replied, even as he scooped her up, his arms caging her in as strongly as ever. “So long as I can carry my mate, I will do so, and none will stop me.”
She relented after a few strides, climbing onto his hindquarters once he set her down.
“That is where you will stay until I tell you to get down, vi’jatai,” he commanded.
Despite everything, his firm, possessive tone sent a thrill through her. She enjoyed being there, enjoyed being close to him, enjoyed being able to spend her day with her arms around him.
After three days, they had the misfortune of being caught in a thunderstorm that made it too dangerous to continue.
They sought shelter beneath a rocky overhang on the side of a cliff as powerful winds and torrential rain battered the jungle.
Flashes of lightning broke the gloom with stark, eerie light, and booming thunder shook the ground and the stone around them.
Through it all, Telok cradled Lacey in his arms, keeping her warm and soothing her with gentle brushes of his hands down her back.
When the storm finally passed, the devastation it had left behind only further slowed the party.
On the eighth day, Lacey realized that she recognized their surroundings. This wasn’t just random jungle—it was familiar! Her heart leapt, and excitement thrummed through her.
They were close to Kaldarak.
Everyone moved faster, their weariness overcome by their eagerness to finish this last stretch of their journey. When she looked ahead and saw the base of the steps that led up to the city in the trees, her relief was so immense that tears filled her eyes.
They were home.
The black eyes of the two vrix guarding the steps widened.
“By the Eight,” the male thornskull rasped. “You live.”
The other guard shook herself out of her stupor and called up. “Garahk has returned!”
A multitude of voices echoed those words overhead, passing the message throughout Kaldarak.
Garahk chittered as he neared the guards. “Nothing in the Tangle could put out my shar’thai.”
Both guards made the sign of the Eight.
“Your shar’thai burns bright,” the female said. “For many days, we searched the Tangle for you. Our daiya has led many parties and has given herself little rest.”
Her gaze moved past him to the others. When it fell upon Ess and Zesh, she started. “Who…”
“We will share words above,” Garahk said solemnly. “Many, many words. But first I will see my heartsflame.”
The guards bowed their heads and stepped aside, allowing the group past.
Lacey tightened her embrace around her mate and pressed a kiss to the center of his back. She didn’t miss his little shiver. The last time Telok had carried her up these steps, she’d been tied up and slung over his shoulder like a trophy he’d caught. It felt like that had been a lifetime ago.
They reached the platform above just in time to see Nalaki rushing toward Garahk, her heavy steps pounding over the wood. He dropped his spear and bag and spread all four arms wide to receive her. She crashed into him, making him stumble backward several steps as they embraced.
Emitting a low buzz, Nalaki squeezed her eyes shut and held her mate, body quaking against him. “I felt your flame. I knew it had not gone cold.”
Garahk drew his head back and pressed his headcrest to hers. “My shar’thai burns for you, my heartsflame. So long as there is fire in your hearts, it will never go out. I will always find my way back to you.”
She crooned softly before withdrawing and sweeping her dark eyes over the party. They halted on the winddancers, widening, and her mandibles ticked up. “I have seen many vrix in my years, but never any such as these two.”
“They are my mates,” Ayali declared, chin notched high and proud as she spread her arms out toward the winddancers. “My heartsflames. Jira’Kai Ess and Ayn’Drost Zesh.”
Ess and Zesh trilled as they each took a step toward Nalaki. In unison, they bowed their heads and tapped their headcrests.
“We offer greetings, daiya,” said Zesh.
“We are glad to finally meet you,” added Ess. “Garahk and Ayali have spoken much about you during our journey.”
Tilting her head, Nalaki regarded the two. “And I am glad to meet you, Jira’Kai Ess and Ayn’Drost Zesh. It seems my luveen has many words to share once he has taken some rest.”
Chittering, Garahk brushed a foreleg against hers. “I will share all words, my nyleea.”
Nalaki’s gaze trailed over everyone else, and her posture drooped. “You have brought two new faces, but two familiar ones are missing.”
Lacey’s heart constricted, and she felt Telok’s muscles tense.
Okkor stood taller and thumped his chest. “Elharat ki’Gralek, Shield of Kaldarak and the Nedrayas, fought and died as a warrior of strength and honor.”
“Elharat…” Nalaki let out a sorrowful buzz. “And what of Cole?”
“He stayed behind with the winddancers, but he is alive,” Lacey said.
“Come, my heartsflame.” Garahk took his mate by her hand, leading her toward the town’s center. “I will weave you the story once we reach our den.”
Telok and the others followed. They didn’t make it far before they were met by a crowd of enthusiastic thornskulls—along with the other shadowstalkers and humans. Garahk and Nalaki gently herded everyone to the central platform, where Telok helped Lacey down onto her own feet.
The reunion with their tribe was an emotional whirlwind. It wasn’t just the feelings of this moment, but of every moment over the last month, all hitting her at once. After all those struggles, all those trials, they were home. Really, truly home.
When Ahmya, Callie, and Ivy rushed to hug Lacey, Telok intercepted them, sternly gesturing at Lacey’s bandaged side.
“With care,” he growled.
She couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness.
Callie’s eyes flared. “Are you okay?”
Lacey’s smile widened. “I got a battle scar of my own defending my mate.”
“Mate?”
All eyes turned toward Telok.
Curling a foreleg around Lacey, he drew her back against him, wound her braid around his hand, and banded an arm around her chest. “She is mine.”
Lacey should’ve been prepared for the tidal wave of exclamations and questions that crashed over them, but everyone talked so fast that she could only laugh, which in turn made her side hurt. She did her best not to flinch, but based on the way Telok stiffened, she knew he’d noticed.
Yet he hesitantly released her and stepped back. He stood nearby, a patient, possessive, gentle presence, as Lacey’s friends hugged her. Ketahn, Urkot, and Rekosh strode up to him while she was occupied.
They embraced him tightly, expressing their worry, remarking upon his new scars, and congratulating him on finally coming to his senses and claiming Lacey.
She inwardly smiled. Telok was usually so guarded, so…
apart, but he let himself relax around his brothers.
He allowed himself to simply be Telok around them.
Around me now, too.
“Hey, uh… Where’s Cole?” Diego asked. “Did he…”
“He’s totally fine,” Lacey answered quickly to reassure them. “But you guys are not going to believe all this…”
She told them everything, starting from the beginning of their journey. Recounting the events of the last month made it all seem so unreal. How had so much occurred in just a few weeks? How had so much changed?
But hadn’t that been her experience since the moment she’d awoken aboard the ruined Somnium?
Heck, nothing had ever been the same since she’d signed up to join the Homeworld Initiative.
Life was all about change, about adapting and growing.
And she wasn’t making that journey through life alone anymore.
Unsurprisingly, everyone had about a million more questions once she finished the story. Though her wounds ached, her mouth was dry, and the weariness of travel weighed down on her, she very well might’ve answered every one of those questions were it not for Telok.
He settled his big hands over her shoulders and turned her so her injured side faced away from him, squatted down, and carefully lifted her into a bridal carry, holding her close against his chest. “No more asking. My mate must rest now.”
Without awaiting a response, he carried Lacey away from the crowd. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the ride, secure in his hold and soothed by the slow, steady beat of his hearts against her palm.
“I’m gonna sleep for days,” she muttered.
Telok chittered. “So long as you are in my arms.”
She smiled and drew in a deep breath, taking in his warm wood-and-smoke scent.
The rustling of a silk curtain being thrown aside had her opening her eyes. To her surprise, she found herself in her own den.
Brow knitting, she looked up at him. “Why did you bring me here?”
He inhaled. His chest rumbled with his exhalation, the sound at once satisfied yet hungry, and his glowing green eyes fell upon her. “I want to be surrounded by your things. By your scent. Want to be surrounded by you.”
With a pleased grin, Lacey caught his mandible and gave it a gentle tug, drawing his face down to hers. “Who would’ve thought grumpy, stoic Telok was such a romantic?”
“Romantic, grumpy, a sweet jerk…” He brushed his mouth over hers, his hide creating the delightful friction against her lips she’d come to love. “Whatever words you use, my nyleea, my wife, I am yours.”