Page 121 of Tharn's Hunt
Kol tilts his head. "There is... another way," he projects carefully. "A faster way."
My suspicion rises immediately. "What way?"
"The bond. The claim." He projects simply. "It protects. You and Jus-teen do not sicken. The others—" He gestures toward the women who've fallen ill. "—they resist the dust. It fights them."
I sit back on my heels, studying him. "You're suggesting that all the women bond with Drakav males? Just like that?"
"It would save them," he projects, the certainty in his mental voice absolute.
I shake my head, frustration building. "It's not that simple, Kol. The bond isn't just... physical. Rok’s glow lit up. Tharn’s did, too. None of the other Drakav have showed that first signal.I don’t think it can be forced or rushed. "
"No," he agrees, surprising me. "But it can be... encouraged."
Before I can ask what he means by that cryptic statement, Tharn appears at the entrance to the cavern, his massive frame silhouetted against the daylight outside. Even at this distance, I can feel his awareness lock onto me, his presence in the mindspace a warm pressure against my consciousness.
Kol straightens, acknowledging Tharn with a slight inclination of his head before stepping back. "Consider my words, Jah-kee," he projects. "For the sake of your female-kin." He turns as if to leave, then pauses. Kol’s claws flex at his sides, the only outward sign of tension before his mental voice rasps through the mindspace. "Three thousand orbits, believing your kind no longer existed. Then you fell from the sky. I will not watch you vanish again."
As he leaves, Tharn approaches, his gaze tracking Kol with barely concealed suspicion. "What did the dra-dam want?" he projects, the possessive edge in his mental voice impossible to miss.
"To suggest a solution," I reply, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "He thinks the women are sick because they haven't bonded with Drakav."
Tharn's expression tightens minutely.
I look down at Mikaela, her face flushed with fever despite our best efforts to cool her. "I think he's partly right," I continue. "This planet is affecting them like it affected me before we bonded. But I don't think we can just pair everyone off and expect it to work."
Tharn crouches beside me, his massive frame eclipsing mine. "The bond comes when it comes," he projects, his mental voice soft but certain. "Like water in the dust. It cannot be forced."
"That's what I told him," I say, relieved that Tharn understands. "But we still need to do something. Mikaela's getting worse, and others are showing symptoms too."
Tharn is silent for a moment, his gaze thoughtful as he studies Mikaela. Then, without warning, he places his palm on her forehead, his golden skin stark against her flushed complexion.
"What are you doing?"
He doesn't answer immediately, his eyes half-closed in concentration. Then, just as suddenly as he touched her, he withdraws his hand.
"The dust fights her body with fire," he projects, confirming Kol's assessment. "But there is... hope. The firebloom will help."
I nod, reaching for another cool fur to place on Mikaela's forehead. "I hope you're right. I really do."
For three days,we take shifts watching over Mikaela and the other women who've fallen ill. The cave settles into a strange rhythm of hushed voices and worried glances. Tharn and the other hunters bring back more firebloom, and we brew it into a strong tea that seems to help—at least a little.
On the morning of the fourth day, I'm dozing beside Mikaela's sleeping form when a soft gasp jolts me awake.
"Whoa," Mikaela murmurs, her voice raspy but stronger than it's been in days. "That was... intense."
I bolt upright, nearly knocking over the gourd beside her in my haste. "Mikaela? You're awake!"
She blinks at me, her expression confused but alert. "Of course, I'm awake. Why wouldn't I be?" She glances around, taking in the makeshift sickbed and the concerned faces gathering around us. "Wait, what happened? Why is everyone looking at me like that?"
"You've been out forthreedays," I explain, pressing my palm to her forehead. The fever is gone, her skin cool and dry beneath my touch. "You collapsed with a fever. We've been worried sick."
Mikaela's eyes widen. "Three days? But that's impossible. I feel fine." She sits up, wincing slightly as her muscles protest. "Okay, maybe a little stiff, but otherwise normal."
"How do you really feel?" Alex asks as she checks Mikaela's pulse.
"Fine.Really," Mikaela insists. "Just... confused. And I had thewildestdream." Her cheeks flush suddenly, her gaze darting involuntarily toward the group of Drakav males who've gathered at a respectful distance, watching the proceedings with evident interest.
The blush deepens when her eyes land on Sarven. He straightens immediately, red eyes widening a fraction, fists clenching and unclenching at her attention.
