Page 30 of X'nath

My heart pounded in my chest, my breath shallow. Every instinct in me told me to fight back, to break free, but something about his words, the way he said them with such confidence, made the air around me feel thick and suffocating.

I pushed past him, my movements quick and frantic, and this time, he didn’t block me. I hurried back to the heart of the camp, away from his gaze. But even as I fled, I knew he was right behind me, and I couldn’t escape the sense that, one way or another, he was going to catch me… and one day, I might just let him.

18

Unyielding Pursuit

X’NATH

The laughter and loud chatter echoed around the communal house, the fire crackling merrily in the center, sending flickering shadows across the walls. The heavy scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air as the men sat around the fire with mugs of fermented fruit and meat in hand. The tension of the day had finally loosened its grip, and everyone was in a more relaxed mood—everyone except me, apparently.

I leaned back in my seat, a mug of thick, strong drink in my hand, swirling it idly as I watched my crew joke and banter around me. Despite my outward calm, my thoughts kept drifting back to Gracie.

“You’ve been after her for weeks, X’nath,” Karg teased from across the fire, his wide grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What’s it going to take, huh? A whole damn tribe to convince her?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, not at all bothered, tossing a piece of meat from my plate to Yargol. “You think I’m going toback down just because she’s a little more difficult?” I shot back. “You underestimate me.”

Vakgar leaned forward from the opposite side of the fire, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Ha! Maybe you’ll have to offer her your bed, X’nath. Something about you makes her think you’re not worth the trouble.” He chuckled. “She looks like the type who likes something... more comfortable than this rough life.”

I smirked, glancing over at Gracie where she sat with some of the other women, her body language still guarded but slightly more relaxed than before. I couldn’t fault her for that. Her distance was something I had to work with, not against.

“Comfortable, huh? You think she’d go for someone more like you, Vakgar? She needs someone who’s more than just soft words and a cozy bed.”

The men laughed at that, but I could see the way they glanced at her when they thought I wasn’t looking.

Greag chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Is it worth it, though, X’nath?” he asked, his tone a little more serious now. “Chasing a human who’s set on staying alone. The one who thinks she can do everything herself?” He leaned back in his seat, watching me closely. “You’re not worried you’ll get burned?”

I grinned at his comment, not missing a beat. “You can’t burn what’s already been tempered by fire. She’ll come around.” The words left my mouth easily, but a deeper part of me knew that there was more to it than just her warming to me. Gracie wasn’t a woman who simply softened over time. She was a challenge, and I loved that.

Deep within me, I longed for the timeless love my father and mother shared. Their unwavering dedication, through every high and low, was something extraordinary. Perhaps our stubbornness was legendary, but I like to believe it was a fierce loyalty—a devotion to those we chose to share our lives with.

“She’s a tough one, I’ll give you that,” Greag continued, raising his mug to his lips. “But you’re walking a fine line, X’nath. This could turn into more than you bargained for.”

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “What’s life without a little risk? Besides, I like tough women.”

The men exchanged knowing looks. They had seen me chase a few women in my day, but they hadn’t seen methisinterested before. This... persistent. I wasn’t backing down from Gracie, not when I claimed her as mine the moment I saw her.

“She’s definitely a hard one to figure out. Most of them are. Human females are different,” Karg chimed in, his voice teasing. “You sure you know what you’re doing with her? She doesn’t seem like the type to just fall at your feet.”

I smirked, leaning forward. “I don’t need her to fall at my feet. I just need her to stop running.”

The men snorted with laughter, but I could see the subtle shift in their expressions. For once, they weren’t just teasing me. They were intrigued. Gracie was unlike the women they were used to, and they could sense that. The tension in the air was palpable, like the sound of gears slowly turning in the heart of a well-built clock, ticking steadily toward some inevitable conclusion.

There was a slight hum in the air, a soft and almost imperceptible noise that seemed to come from deep within the heart of the mountain. It filled the quiet gaps between conversations, the gentle whirr of the primitive machines the clan had cobbled together from the spoils of past raids. Much of the technology in their homes—rudimentary systems, water flow devices, and other makeshift contraptions—had been scavenged from human villages during their raids. We had a talent for repurposing what we looted, melding their old traditions with pieces of the outside world to create something uniquely ourown. It was a curious mix of their ancestral customs and the innovation born from the spoils of battle.

“Well, good luck with that,” Vakgar said, breaking the silence, though his tone was more curious than mocking now. “But I think you’re wasting your time. She’s a stubborn one. I’d bet she’d rather chop off her hair than admit she wants anything to do with you.”

I smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Then I’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t have to admit it. She’ll just know.”

The men laughed again, but the tension I felt in my chest didn’t ease. There was more to Gracie than any of them could see, and I was the one who would uncover it, layer by layer.

As I looked across the room, catching Gracie’s gaze for just a moment, I knew. It was going to take time, patience, and maybe a little bit of my stubbornness, but I wasn’t backing down.

Not now. Not ever.

I was going to get through to her.

Sophie, who had been sitting across the room, walked toward Greag with that glint of mischief in her eye. The small, light-haired human was the first to take the lead, helping the men gain acceptance. Bolg, Greag’s weasel, weaved around her ankles playfully. Without a word, she settled herself into Greag’s lap, her arms slipping around his neck with an almost casual air.

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