Page 98 of Tharn's Hunt
Slowly, so slowly, I extend my hand, palm up. For a long moment, Tharn just stares at it, his chest heaving with each labored breath.
Then, with a movement so careful it breaks my heart, his much larger hand covers mine.
The contact is electric. Heat surges between us, and Tharn gasps, his back arching as if struck by lightning. His grip on my hand tightens painfully, but I don't pull away, don't break the connection.
"It’s okay," I whisper, ignoring the pinch of his claws against my skin. "I'm here."
Recognition floods his features, followed by something that looks almost like relief.
The starry patterns beneath his skin pulse faster. Terrifying. Beautiful. I can't look away.
"Jacqui," Justine calls softly from behind me. "I think he’s stabilizing. Keep going."
I have no idea what "keep going" means, but I'm not about to let go of his hand. Not when he's looking at me like I'm his only lifeline in a storm.
Slowly, carefully, I move closer, my free hand reaching up to cup his face. The moment my palm touches his cheek, he leans into it with a sound that's half-growl, half-sigh.
"There you are," I murmur, a small smile tugging at my lips despite everything. "Coming back to me?"
He doesn't answer, but the wild look in his eyes dims further, replaced by the Tharn I know.MyTharn.
Then, without warning, his entire body goes rigid. The stars beneath his skin freeze in place, then flare brightly.
I'm dimly aware of Sarven and the other Drakav stepping forward as if to shield me, of Justine gasping. But all I can focus on is Tharn's face—his jaw clenched in pain, his eyes squeezed shut as if bracing against some final, terrible impact.
And then, just as suddenly, it's over.
The light fades, the stars settling, slowly being replaced by his usual golden bronze, but without the glow that’s been underhis skin from the first moment we met. For a heartbeat, he stares at me, eyes wide with wonder and exhaustion.
Then he collapses, his massive frame crumpling forward. I catch him as best I can, though his weight nearly crushes me. It takes Sarven and the other Drakav rushing forward to keep us both from hitting the stone floor.
"Tharn?" I pat his cheek, panic rising again. "Tharn, can you hear me?"
His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, but his eyes remain closed. Unconscious, but alive.
"It's okay," Justine says, hobbling closer with Rok's support. "He's just exhausted. The transformation takes everything they have."
I look up at her, a thousand questions on my lips, but only one thing makes it out. "He’s changed."
She shares a look with Rok, then turns back to me with a small, knowing smile. "The same thing that happened to Rok. He's... evolved. Adapted. For you."
I glance down at Tharn's unconscious form, at the new body he now inhabits. The more defined muscles. The... addition between his thighs that I'm trying very hard not to stare at.
"For me," I echo, the weight of those two simple words hitting me like a meteor. "This is because of me."
Sarven makes a series of gestures to the other Drakav.
"They need to get him back to his alcove," Justine explains. "He'll be more comfortable there, and safer."
I nod, but my fingers tighten around Tharn’s shoulders.
Then I notice it—the way the hunters stare at his lower half, their expressions a mix of awe and alarm.
Oh.
His transformation has left him... exposed.
Without hesitation, I yank off my thin blouse, leaving only my bra on. The fabric tears easily in my hands as I fashiona crude loincloth, my fingers brushing the strange new ridges along his hips as I secure it.
