Page 116 of The Weaver

CHAPTER 28

Everything within Rekoshwent still and silent as he watched Ahmya flee. It was a moment hanging in time, caught and suspended in a huge, complex, chaotic web. And within that moment, there was only him and his mate. No other vrix, no other humans, no heat, no smoke, no fire, no camp. No jungle.

My mate is alive.

By her own strength, cleverness, and determination, she’d escaped the blazing pit. Pride flooded Rekosh, filling him near to bursting.

His hearts thumped. The sound rumbled through him like thunder echoing between the walls of a ravine.

“Tend to our queen,” Ogahnkai commanded her companions with a sharp gesture as she reached the other side of the pit. She charged in Ahmya’s direction, powerful legs kicking up dirt and leaves.

Fire erupted from Rekosh’s core and swept through his body, suffusing him with heat more intense than that of the flames before him.

Ahmya is alive, and she needs me.

Ogahnkai’s companions hurried to the burning shrine,tugged off their silk wraps, and tried to beat out the flames using the cloth.

Ulkari released Rekosh’s shoulder and strode closer to the pit. Planting the butt of her war spear in the dirt, she turned to face Rekosh and the vrix around him—the pair of Claws restraining him, along with three more males and two other females.

“Do not stand and stare like fools!” she snarled. “You two, fetch water. The rest of you, ensure that pale worm has no path out of this camp. Now!”

Rekosh was aware of movement around him as the vrix scrambled to obey Ulkari’s orders, but he gave them none of his attention. Fury sharpened his focus to a point—a needle, a knife, the head of a spear.

And it was aimed at his first obstacle. His bindings.

He could almost envision the damage he’d done to the rope. It wasn’t enough, but ithadto be. There was no more time.

Live,vi’keishi. Survive and wait for me.

Heat gathered in his muscles, buzzing and crackling; a restless, irresistible strength. Clenching his jaw, he forced his arms apart with a growl.

The rope held, but Rekosh did not relent. That heat grew and grew. His arms trembled, his shoulders ached, and his teeth ground against each other.

One thread, he reminded himself.All it takes is one thread…

My heartsthread.

The rope bit into his hide in its final act of defiance, and he could almost hear it creaking, could almost feel some greater will behind it, desperate to keep him from the fate he’d chosen.

Desperate to keep him from his mate.

Rekosh’s growl swelled into a roar.

The rope snapped, and his arms jerked apart. The males restraining him swayed, and one of them hissed a curse, digging his claws deeper into Rekosh’s arms.

Rekosh swept his lower arms backward. His claws raked across hide, and one hand struck something solid dangling from one of the male’s waists. A wooden haft. He curled his fingers around it and snatched it free.

He recognized the weapon immediately by its heft—a blackrock axe. His fury nearly sang its approval.

“Kill him!” Ulkari commanded.

The Claws fumbled for their weapons, and in that instant, Rekosh spun toward them and attacked. He lashed out with claw and axe, with kicks and slashes, his limbs moving faster than eyes could perceive, faster than thought.

And the crimson haze in his vision deepened with every drop of blood he spilled.

“Someone approaches!” a lookout called from the platform high overhead. “We are being atta?—”

The sentry’s words were cut off by a choked cry.

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