Page 34 of The Weaver

His eyes softened. Easing closer, he lifted his lower arms and took her hands in his, curling his long, rough fingers around them. “There is something else I would have you see. Something I would give you.”

Ahmya’s breath hitched. She knew. Knew what he was goingto say, what he was going to confess. She’d had this same feeling when he’d come to her den the other day and taken her hands exactly like this.

Tiny drops of rain lighted upon her heated skin.

Ahmya tightened her fingers around Rekosh’s and lowered her gaze, studying the rigid, armor-like sections of his torso. His hide darkened where raindrops landed.

She watched the water trickle over his hide and glisten in the fading sunlight. “You don’t have to give me anything, Rekosh.”

He caught her chin with the fingers of his upper hand and tipped her face up toward his. All eight eyes, bright red, intense, and piercing, looked down at her as though there was nothing else to see in the universe. “Ahmya… I said it is a need and a want. My gift, my words.”

Ahmya’s belly was aflutter. She’d known early on that Rekosh had taken an interest in her. It’d been clear from the moment he’d introduced himself in the pit—the way he’d bowed and curled a finger beneath hers, the careful but smooth way he’d attempted to pronounce her name.

She’d seen it every time he looked upon her, spoke to her, touched her. Rekosh cared for everyone in their little tribe, but he was most protective of her. Most…possessiveof her.

Callie had told her what had happened while Ahmya had been unconscious after the firevine attack. Rekosh had been a mess. Pacing frantically, fidgeting, constantly turning his gaze back to Ahmya. Even with one of his arms dangling numb at his side from the firevine’s paralytic venom, his only concern had been for her. When Diego had cut away Ahmya’s clothing to treat her wounds, Rekosh had nearly fought him.

He'd refused to allow another male to tend her wounds, refused to let another male touch her.

That night, unable to fit inside the small cave in which thehumans had sheltered, Rekosh had lain on the ground with his body exposed to the rain just to be near Ahmya.

Why had she fought so hard against what she knew deep down to be true? Why had she allowed her fear of the unknown, of what he was, to prevent her from seeing what was right before her eyes, to stop her from recognizing what lay within her own heart?

I want him too.

It didn’t matter how large he was, how frightening he’d been at first. It didn’t matter that he was of a different species. He was Rekosh.

He was kind and considerate, funny and witty. When things were at their bleakest, he was a spot of brightness. When danger loomed, he was the fiercest of protectors, throwing himself into danger to safeguard the people he cared about. She loved talking with him, learning from him, and teaching him in turn. She loved his curiosity and passion. And the way her body responded to him… A single brush of his fingers was all it took to make her crave more.

He was everything she’d yearned for.

The rain fell a little harder, a little faster. Rekosh’s eyes narrowed in irritation, and a growl rolled in his chest. He tipped his head back and glared at the gloomy sky.

With a soft laugh, Ahmya brought their hands to her chest and pressed her face against the fingers holding her chin, gently rubbing them with her cheek.

Rekosh’s gaze snapped back to her, eyes wide.

She softened her smile. “I would hear your words, Rekosh.”

A shiver coursed through him, flowing directly into her from where they touched. It was followed by a low hum, the sound brimming with eagerness and anticipation. His mandibles rose in a vrix smile.

“Ah,kir’ani vi’keishi…” He stroked her jaw. Despite the thick, hard calluses on his fingers, his touch was gentle. But that gentleness still sent a pulse of warmth through her body.

Rekosh withdrew his hands, trailing his fingers over her skin as he did so—as though he were loath to break contact. She nearly swayed toward him to follow. Her next inhalation was shallow, shaky, strained.

So much roiled just beneath the surface. So much desire and emotion, so much that she’d held inside for far too long because of shame, fear, and uncertainty. It all threatened to burst out, here and now. Though she’d not admitted it to herself, Rekosh had awoken things within her, passions and yearnings, that she’d never experienced.

And all she had to do was embrace them.

Embracehim.

“For a big time, I have known, Ahmya.” His words were careful, measured, as he grasped the strap of his bag and slid it around to his front. “My eyes saw you, my hearts felt you, and my soul sang for you.”

She clasped her hands against her belly both to keep them from trembling and to keep herself from reaching for him. Her eyes dipped to watch his clever fingers take hold of the silk string that kept his bag closed.

“Ahmya, you are my?—”

The brush rustled somewhere behind her.

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