Chapter 32
Need burned through him, charring his insides with a permanent brand.
It shifted within him dangerously as he clung to the edge of the tunnel and leaned forward to peer down at the female staring up at him.
He drew her rich scent deep into his lungs, his tongues snaking out to capture the delicate note of flavor within her subtle pheromones.
It did not possess the potency of a Seshanamitesh female, and yet it affected him more than the combined pheromones of all the young females of the noble families.
The aftermath of being doused repeatedly with their essence had ignited a fire and need to breed within him, but this female...
her sweetness consumed him. He hungered for it—for her—like he had never hungered for anything before.
The sight of her alone there soothed the fury within him, easing the territorial aggression rising brutally within him so that it faded—forgotten.
Alex. Her name hissed from between his teeth, rolling off his tongues, but he had little doubt that she heard it.
To him, however, it was a litany—a prayer to the one being that stirred to life such intense feeling of devotion in him.
It brought forth a fever in him that only equaled the charm of her intellect that had worked her way beneath his scales.
She was small and delicate and yet she packed an engaging personality within her tiny frame.
His eyes roved over her with admiration from the crown of golden hair upon her head to the lithe little body and the swell of her breasts pushing against her coverings.
He hummed enticingly to her as his gaze slid over her longingly, lowering slowly.
How he cherished every curve and every delicate, slender line.
So different. So precious. So—what was that?
He froze, his gavo lifting as his eyes fastened upon the meat lying at her feet.
That did not belong there. Jathella had not mentioned that Buosoa would approach with such a gift.
And guards seldom had time from their duties to hunt.
His tongues flickered, intentionally separating the notes of scents and flavors in the air until he isolated the heavy musk of that male.
Therxian’s head jerked back in affront, his eyes narrowing on the meat that rested at the epicenter of the pheromone trail.
His gavo began to rapidly snap and vibrate and his jaw clattered in warning as he whipped his head around, the sound broken by short, territorial barks. He dared!
Not only was he lurking around the palace, but he had intentionally made an approach!
As fresh as the meat appeared to be, he was likely still nearby.
Another wave of fury exploded through him, searing the primitive need to conquer and claim deeper within him as he launched himself from the edge of the tunnel, his shriek shattering the air.
He channeled every ounce of his rage through his vocalizations as he dropped rapidly toward his exposed and vulnerable female.
His wings stretched wide, catching the air as he plummeted, his tail whipping viciously behind him to steer him directly toward her.
His gavo was extended to full sail so that he cut through the air more efficiently, stabilizing his rapid descent.
He would strike at any male who gave challenge.
He would wrap his wings and coils protectively around what was his. He would—Why was she backing away?
She was not only backing away from him but hastily withdrawing with enough speed that she was tripping over her own feet as he dropped heavily within the corridor, his wings fanning wide.
His head snaked to the left, and then to the right, his dark tongues flicking out to draw in the air over his oral receptors.
His tail drawing up in a tight coil, he whipped it, slapping the meat off the edge of the corridor and into the dark abyss of the broken-out bottom of the tunnel.
He hissed, his throat bulging aggressively.
It only receded enough for Therxian’s jaw to clatter loudly in warning again as he let loose several sharp barks before allowing it to bulge once more as his gavo vibrated threateningly as he side-winded swiftly toward his female, who promptly stumbled and fell in response to his unexpected movement.
Alarm rippled through him as she dropped, and he rushed toward her, his tail curling around her possessively.
Her vulnerable position sprawled on the ground was putting him on edge.
Spreading his wings wide, he crouched over her as he continued to demonstrate vocally and with visual cues.
And still the male did not show himself.
Satisfaction rose sharply within Therxian as his gaze drifted triumphantly through the corridor. Coward!
Releasing another shrill bark, he huffed triumphantly, his head lowering as his attention dropped to the little female within his grasp.
His.
Affection, territorial triumph, possessiveness... hunger. It crashed through him violently. He had defeated his rival. He had won the right of capture. His chest expanded proudly as he drew back his wings to look down at his prize.
A pale fist snapped up the moment his wings withdrew, landing with an aggressive, hard blow against his nose.
The blow sent a burst of blinding pain across his face and into his eyes.
He recoiled, his tail falling away and rolling away with the painful impact.
His hands flew to his face as his wings fanned the air and his gavo rose and dropped rapidly with his shocked shriek.
Peering between his fingers, he stared in shock at the female crouched in front of him: her face flushed and her body trembling with every deep breath she drew. Despite the pain burning through his face, his arousal pitched higher. Exquisite. Strong.
Hunger licked with a tongue of fire deep within him, and he slowly lowered his hands to return her regard, his gavo rising inquisitively with his interest.
“What the fucking hell, Therxian?” she snapped.
A croon rose from deep within his chest, an instinctive mating song that males had been gifted with since the beginning of their time.
A female’s greatest strength was her pheromones.
And although her song was potent, it held only a fraction of the allure that a male possessed.
His song filled the void between them so that her fragrance heightened, and she shivered in response.
He had no words. Only need. A need to claim and protect what was his.
His croon deepened, rolling and vibrating through the air.
His female’s eyes widened, her pupils slowly expanding with the desire unfurling within her.
He traced the side of her cheek with one claw, and a tremor of desire swept through him as his eyes slid half-shut.
So exquisite. She was incredibly soft to the touch.
He hummed, captivated, as he drew closer to her, breathing the deepening fragrance of her pheromones deep into his lungs.
His sant was growing heavy, desperately needing to extrude.
His instinct hammered at him to fulfil the right of capture and exert his claim.
The words were on his tongues before finally slipping free with an ease that was shockingly right.
“I, Therxian, claim this female by the right of capture. None shall challenge my claim or drive her from my nest,” he hissed as he dragged her closer against his torso, their heat mingling.
His sant pressed forward, parting his sheath.
His claws raked over her coverings in mild frustration.
They concealed her vent, hiding it away from him.
He understood that much through the fog of his fevered state.
Leaning forward, he brushed his nose against her cheek, and his tongues slid out of his mouth to trace twin paths down her neck, tasting her exquisite flavor.
His sant slipped out heavily, making him groan with its freed weight pulling at his internal reproductive centers.
The vibration of his song deepened with his desire, and his female swayed in reaction, her breath escaping her in small, needy pants.
Her breaths lifted her breasts, bringing his attention to them despite the heavy fabric concealing them.
That needed to go.
He slipped his claw inside the opening of her covering, eager to part it and do away with the flimsy barrier.
She did not need it any longer. He would warm her.
Some small part of him recognized that it was a ridiculous thought, but he pushed it away, eager to bare her completely, eager to serve his mate, and coveting every brush of her body against his.
Truthfully, his anticipation was growing by the moment, adding more fuel to the desire fogging his mind with the impulse born of primal instincts long a part of his species.
He trilled and tugged lightly at the material, his eyes meeting hers, wanting to see her acceptance and surrender.
He was not prepared for the way her eyes suddenly cleared and filled with awareness, or the soft gasp she uttered when her small hand snapped to her chest, barring all access to him.
She blinked rapidly and gave a rough shake of her head as she pressed the material firmly against her skin.
“I don’t know what kind of woo-shit this is, but you can just stop right there,” she rasped warily.
Therxian regarded her in surprise, his gavo inching upward curiously. “Woo?” he repeated, thrown off by the unfamiliar word. It was enough to clear a small portion of his mind, so that he was able to exert greater self-control as he stared down at her.
“Yeah... woo. Weird, spooky shit,” she clarified, wiggling the fingers of one hand. “Whatever it is you are doing.”
He peered at her, his eyes narrowed in amusement as even more of the fog inched back. “What?”
“The voice thingy,” she clarified, her tone growing annoyed. “I don’t know how you are doing it, but I don’t normally feel overcome with a need to rip with my clothes off and rub myself all over another person.”
“What is stopping you?” he hissed, suddenly enjoying the moment much more as more of his rationality seeped back into his mind, overcoming the primitive instinct that had been provoked.
She frowned at him in response. “It really isn’t normal.”
He settled back, giving her space to push away, or even run, as he regarded her, her ears flicking. “Who decided this? It is very normal among my kind. We entice each other, and the claim is made.”
“Claim,” she echoed. Her face paled. “Oh shit. You just...”
He inclined his head in agreement, amusement lighting his heart.
Although claiming her hadn’t been a rational decision, now that he was returning to himself, he could not say that he regretted it.
Instead, a sense of contentment swept through him that relaxed tension he had not realized he was carrying.
The tension he was only aware of in retrospect as being the product of ignoring the demand to mate with a female that he had gradually become pheromone-bonded to.
Although he knew it was technically possible, it was so rare that it had not even occurred to him.
It was not until he was partially drugged by the pheromones of meaningless females that his control had been weakened enough to allow nature to take its course as Shangla blessed.
There was just a lingering issue that still needed to be resolved, of course. The claiming was not yet finished. The ritual was completed, however. Everything else, as far as he was concerned, was just a technicality that would bind them and strip away the last remaining barriers between them.
She searched his face, her brow puckering. “You don’t seem particularly upset about that.”
“Would you like to see how affected I am?” he hissed. “Your interruption ultimately has changed nothing when it comes to that matter.”
His sant was full and heavy and there was no hope of pressing it back into his sheath.
He would demand nothing of her, even if it guaranteed him a long, painful night.
Regardless, he was remaining by her side.
His mother’s decision bought him a little time at least before anyone disturbed him, especially with Jathella taking care of matters.
She would see to it that no one disturbed him after the display in the throne chamber.
At the very least, not until morning. Until then, he would savor every moment with his delicious little female.
Especially when there was still the matter of an unknown male lingering around the elder palace. He would not think of that, however. It was too much like playing with his sense of control.
“Perhaps,” she murmured. “But I think we should be a bit more clear-headed first. Perhaps if we eat before tackling all of that.”
A pink hue rapidly climbed backing her face as she carefully averted her eyes from his desire. Therxian fought back his amusement, but it faded into guilt, and he grimaced apologetically when her gaze drifted back to the ledge and she let out a beleaguered sigh.
“You really knocked dinner off the edge, didn’t you?”
“Perhaps I can retrieve it,” he murmured doubtfully. “It might not have fallen too far.”
Alex cocked an eyebrow at him, but then she made some hideous choking sound as she abruptly turned away and pushed her way out of his relaxed tail.
“Come on,” she said around what suspiciously sounded like laughter. “I am sure we can find something else.”
Something that was most certainly not meat. Therxian grimaced again, this time feeling sorry for himself in addition to the weight of guilt. Whatever meal they managed to find was certain to be terrible.
He would have to make it up to her. He would make certain to go hunting in the morning. Not only to be certain that they were both properly nourished, but so as not to give his rival an opportunity to care for her.
Alex was his ashlava. He would care for her wellbeing.
No other male was welcome. He was not Slengral or one of the hunters of the upper caverns who reluctantly accepted other males out of necessity.
He was the best hunter among the Vehal. He was capable, and he would deal with any male who attempted to insert himself into their nest.