Page 115 of Tharn's Hunt
When the first divider sways into place, separating the human sleeping area from the main cavern, Erika’s stern expression softens.
The caves still smell of curing meat and cooking. The food’s still questionable at best. But as I watch my sister lean into Rok’s touch, as I note the way Sarven carefully stacks extra meat near Mikaela’s share, I realize…
This might just become home.
And not just for me and Justine. All of us.
Nightfall belongs to the bonds.
I hear Justine’s quiet laughter through the mindspace as Rok leads her away. Back in our little ‘room’ in the caves, Tharn presses a warm bundle into my hands. It’s another firebloom salve he's become obsessed with making. The sharp herbal scent makes my nose wrinkle.
"You realize I'm not actually injured, right?"I tease.
His only response is a stubborn rumble as he kneels before me. His claws trace the scar on my calf, his touch sending a familiar shiver through me. He checks my hands, my arms, every inch of exposed skin with a ridiculous, painstaking delicacy. His concern is so earnest it's almost comical, and my heart does a stupid little flip.
When he is finally satisfied that I am not, in fact, secretly broken, he rises to his full height. His gaze lingers on my face for a moment, a silent conversation passing between us that I am only just beginning to understand.
Then, with a final, almost reluctant dip of his head, he turns and begins to walk away. He's leaving. Again.
I wait until he's nearly at the tunnel entrance, until the tension in his shoulders eases just slightly, assuming he's made a clean escape.
"Where do you keep going?" I project, my thought a sharp, clear arrow in the quiet of the cavern.
He freezes mid-stride. The mindspace floods with franticnot-hidingimages: hunting parties, patrol routes, completely unconvincing rock formations.
"Water.Meat," he projects too quickly. "For the clan."
I step closer, crossing my arms. "Funny. Because Haroth just brought back two sandfins. And Kol’s weaving another mat right now."
A flicker of panic crosses his face. Then the panic is gone, replaced by something much darker.
Before I can blink, he's on me. One arm bands around my waist like a steel trap, hauling me flush against him. His other hand fists in my hair, tilting my head back.
"No more questions." His thought is a low, guttural growl, a pure command that vibrates through my bones.
The raw dominance of it sparks through me. "But where?—"
His mouth crashes down on mine, swallowing the word. A brutal, possessive claiming meant to obliterate all thought. I gasp as his claws scrape down my spine.
His mouth leaves mine, his breathing a harsh sound in the quiet tunnel. The mindspace between us floods with images.Hisimages.
Him pushing me down onto the furs. His mouth on my breasts, his teeth on my neck. His hands on my thighs, pushing them apart. Him sinking into me, filling me, our bodies moving in a frantic rhythm.
My knees go weak at the sheer, savage honesty of his need.
Somehow we're moving. The alcove's furs hit my back as Tharn follows me down, his body a delicious weight. "Cheater," I pant as his mouth finds my neck.
His desire vibrates in a rumble against my skin.
By the time coherent thought returns—by the time I remember there was ever anything to question—dawn light streaks through the cavern. And Tharn is gone again.
That sneaky, beautiful, irresistible bastard.
Chapter 33
IT’S THE THOUGHT (AND THE STABBING YOURSELF REPEATEDLY) THAT COUNTS
JACQUI
