Page 102 of The Delver
It was lit only by the crystal that had fallen from Callie’s hand—and the glow of a male spiritstrider. The pale vrix was so low that he was nearly lying on his belly, with two clawed hands hooked onto Callie’s leg, drawing her closer as though he were pulling on a silk rope to drag in a speared beast.
Callie fought, screaming as her fingers raked over the cave floor, seeking purchase. She kicked her free leg desperately. Her boot connected with the snarling male’s face. Mandibles snapping at her, the spiritstrider’s hand reached higher, raking down her bloodied calf. She cried out, and more glistening blood spilled over the stone.
With a roar, Urkot charged forward, stomping a foreleg down on one of the spiritstrider’s extended arms. Bone crunched beneath the blow.
The spiritstrider hissed and snatched its arm back, but kept its other hand on Callie’s leg.
“She is mine!” Urkot pushed off with his rear and middle legs, driving the bent joint of his foreleg into the spiritstrider’s head.
The force knocked the other vrix away, claws tearing free of Callie’s leg. She screamed. The sound twisted Urkot’s already taut heartsthread. Clutching her wounded leg, she hurriedly rolled aside.
Urkot dropped his own crystal and leapt onto the spiritstrider. His weight bore down on the vrix, who thrashed and clawed at Urkot, but he felt no pain through his rage as he grabbed the vrix’s mandibles at their bases. Those pincers snapped the air impotently.
Growling, Urkot slammed the spiritstrider’s head against the floor.
The pale vrix’s struggles faltered. Urkot tightened his grip, and using all his strength, brought his foe’s head down again and again, feeling the heavythumpsof impact jolt up his arms and only pouring more power into every subsequent blow. Even when he heard the spiritstrider’s skull crack, he did not stop.
“Will not take my mate.”
Slam.
“Will not touch.”
Slam.
“She’s mine. Mine. Mine!”
Slam. Slam. Slam.
He halted only when a small sound broke through the red haze that had taken hold of him—a whimper from Callie.
“Fuck.” Urkot released the unmoving spiritstrider and shoved away from it, turning toward his mate.
She sat, trembling, with her wounded leg stretched before her, both hands clamped around her calf. Blood oozed between and around her fingers. Her breaths were harsh, taken and expelled through clenched teeth.
Urkot scrambled over to her, plucked a glowstone off the floor, and knelt with hands raised and fingers splayed, staring down at her injuries. With all the blood, it was difficult to tell just how many cuts she’d suffered, and their severity was impossible to guess, but they looked grave. His hearts ached seeing the damage that had been inflicted upon her. He knew even the gentlest touch would hurt her more.
But he also knew that a great deal of noise had been made during the struggle—noise that was very much out of the ordinary for these tunnels. Noise that would have traveled far.
He needed to hurry.
Urkot curled his fingers as a heaviness dragged down his insides. “Callie… I must tend you.”
Her teary gaze met his. He hated seeing that gleam in her eyes. It was filled with fear, agony, and understanding. Understanding that this ordeal was not yet finished.
Callie gave a shallow nod. “Hurry.”
Her nostrils flared as she loosened her hands and pried them away from her calf. Fresh blood flowed from her cuts. Moving as quickly and carefully as he could, Urkot drew out sticky silk and applied it to her wounds.
“Fuck,” Callie cried, and her following sounds were cut short as she bit down on her hand. Muscles tense and fingers raking the chamber floor, she squirmed, moaned, and heaved muffled cries that made her shoulders quake. Her every pained reaction, no matter how small, was like a new thorn stabbed into Urkot’s hearts.
His fingers were quickly slick with her blood. They’d never felt so clumsy. His large, rough hands were not made for such tasks.
If only Diego had been there to tend her properly.
Damn my eyes, if only I had protected her from this.
A sound from the tunnel stilled his hands and his hearts—a series of clicks echoing along the passageway.
