Page 13 of The Delver (The Vrix #2)

As though Callie’s sweet, seductive scent weren’t enough to overwhelm Urkot, as though her words hadn’t pierced his hearts to resonate along his heartsthread in a ceaseless thrum, now she’d taken his hand. Her small, soft hand had closed around his big, rough one, and she was leading him to dance.

Urkot had never danced. He’d never been chosen by a female.

But Callie was choosing him now.

He offered no resistance as she drew him into the crowd of thornskulls.

For the first time in his life, his body felt light, agile, as though he were floating like a cloud.

He was led not just by her hand, but by the invisible silk thread that bound them.

A thread that was bringing them closer and closer.

He couldn’t have resisted if he’d wanted to.

Callie glanced at him over her shoulder, and their gazes locked. Her warm brown eyes held such depth, such emotion, such tantalizing heat. If he stared into them long enough, he would find peace and happiness. He would find everything he’d ever craved.

Though he did not understand human mating rituals, this somehow felt like one. It was not the solidifying of their bond, it was not the declaration of a claim, but it was something intimate. Something important. He felt it in the way she held his hand, felt it in his hearts.

When she stopped and turned to face him, the rest of the celebration ceased to exist. The rest of the world ceased to exist. There was only Urkot and Callie.

She released his hand. He fought back the instinct to reach for her, to grab her and draw her close.

Keeping her eyes locked with his, she began to move.

Urkot had seen her dance before, but this…this was different. Her body swayed from side to side, arms rising slowly, hands delving into her hair. Every part of her moved in time with the drums, so perfectly that it seemed as though she were dictating their beat.

It was slow, sensual, beckoning, drawing his attention to her every curve, accentuating the unique way her body could move, making his stem stir behind his slit and his hands itch to be on her skin.

This was a mating dance. It had to be.

And she might as well have ensnared him with a rope and drawn him in.

He stepped to her and trailed his fingers across the silk on her belly as he circled behind her. Callie didn’t shy away from his touch, and her eyes didn’t leave his until he was at her back.

Urkot encircled her with all three of his arms, drawing her against him.

A shudder wracked him as she pressed closer.

He could feel her heat through the silk, could feel the softness of her dark brown hair on his hide, and her scent…

It overpowered everything around them. Earthy and sweet, but now it was enriched by the headiness of her desire.

Desire…for him.

Unbidden, Urkot’s claspers stroked her hips.

Her arms draped around his neck as she danced against him, and his body swayed along with her, complementing her motions. He lost himself in the rhythm, in the fluid movements, in her feel and her smell and her nearness. Lost himself in her.

Each brush of her ass against his sensitive slit sent a torturous pulse of pleasure to his core.

Only his stony resolve held back his surging desire and denied his instinct to claim the female in his arms, but every bit of delicious friction between their bodies was like the strike of a pick, chipping away at a crumbling rock.

When he claimed Callie, it would not be before the eyes of others. He would not share any part of her. She was his alone.

Callie turned her head and tipped her face up, meeting his gaze. Those dark, dark eyes glittered with reflected light from the crystals. Her lips curved as she cupped his jaw, her fingers on either side of his mandible. “Urkot…”

“Callie!” a chorus of human female voices called.

Both Urkot and Callie’s faces turned toward the voices. Lacey, Ahmya, and Ivy hurried toward them, with Rekosh and Ketahn trailing behind.

Callie dropped her hand and stepped away from Urkot. “Hey!”

The females gathered around Callie, taking her hand and tugging her farther from Urkot.

Urkot stood rigidly in place. He gritted his teeth and fought back the urge to snarl at the females for daring to take Callie from him, his hearts pounding more thunderously than the drums.

“Come dance with us,” Ahmya said.

“We need some more girl time,” Ivy said. “And Ketahn’s not much of a dancer.”

“I dance,” Ketahn said, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re too stiff.”

“Rekosh is a really good dancer,” Ahmya said.

Rekosh chittered and leaned down to nuzzle her hair. “I am, but you females go. Enjoy yourselves.” His crimson eyes shifted to Urkot, gleaming with a knowing light. “We will have some…male time.”

Ivy released Callie and walked up to Ketahn. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing her mouth firmly to his as she grinned. Very quietly, she said, “We’ll perform the mating dance later.”

Ketahn trilled, brushing his foreleg along hers before she withdrew to join the other human females.

As the group led Callie away, Lacey stepped up to her, peeking at Urkot. “Did I seriously see you kiss Urkot earlier?”

The hide around Urkot’s mouth tingled with the memory of Callie’s lips, so soft and warm. Callie glanced back at him, smiling a sultry little smile, but she was already too far away for him to make out her reply to her companion.

Had Rekosh and Ketahn not moved directly in front of him, Urkot would’ve given chase. Even now, some part of him demanded he shove his friends aside and go after Callie. She was his. How could he let her go? How could he let her be taken from him?

He needed to be as stone, unmoving, steady, controlled. Everything he felt was too new and intense, and he could not let it seize him. He could not surrender to this…this…

Frenzy.

That was the word. This was the onset of a mating frenzy. He’d resisted the pheromones of female vrix, had gone through his whole life without feeling even a shred of such desire. Callie had unraveled him in a single, all too brief dance.

And in the aftermath of that dance, his entire body throbbed and ached, and his hide thrummed with the ghost of her touch— of her rubbing against him, of her hair brushing his chest, of her arms around his neck.

What would it feel like to have her slit close around his stem, to have his shaft buried in her soft body? What would it feel like when she came undone around him?

He had no experience with mating. He knew only what little he’d heard. Yet the strength of what he felt for Callie, the depth of it, only made his yearning for her all the stronger.

His claspers cinched tighter around his slit, intensifying the ache behind it, and he dragged a hand down his face. He needed to turn his mind away from such matters. But there seemed to be room only for her in his head.

Is that so bad a thing?

Rekosh chittered. The sound broke Urkot from his thoughts, calling his attention to his friend.

“Powerful, is it not?” the red-marked vrix asked.

“What do you mean, weaver?” Urkot scraped a foreleg over the ground in an attempt to force the lingering tension out of his limbs.

“That desire, Urkot.”

Urkot glanced at Ketahn for aid, but Ketahn simply folded his arms across his chest, a hint of an amused glint visible in his eyes. Little Akalahn, who had been so vigorously playing not long before, was sound asleep in a basket strapped to Ketahn’s back despite all the noise.

Huffing, Urkot shook his head. The heat inside him had taken on a different feeling, skittering under his hide. “Speak plainly, Rekosh.”

The tall, spindly weaver leaned close to Urkot—far closer than was necessary—and whispered hoarsely. “You long for Callie. Long to claim her and rut her.”

With a grunt, Urkot planted a hand on Rekosh’s chest and shoved him away.

Rekosh chittered as he stumbled back a few steps.

“It does not take eight eyes to see you have wanted Callie for a long time,” Ketahn said, his mandibles ticking upward. “You alone did not accept it.”

“Why would I not accept my own desire?” Urkot asked as that insidious heat strengthened. He felt as transparent as the crystal he’d gifted Callie, as though his friends were staring right into him to see his thumping hearts and everything they contained.

“Because you feared she would not want you in return,” Rekosh replied in a gentle tone.

Those words coiled in Urkot’s chest, squeezing everything, constricting his breathing. His hands curled into fists.

Rekosh brushed a foreleg against Urkot’s. “I do not mean to anger you, my friend.”

The weaver’s familiar scent filled Urkot’s senses.

They’d known one another for many, many years, had grown into adulthood together and faced horrors and hardships as brothers.

After the war, Urkot and Rekosh had spent more time with one another than any of their group—with Ahnset having been busy as a Fang, Telok often away hunting, and Ketahn having moved his den to the Tangle to escape Takarahl.

As much as they teased one another, they’d never sought to inflict hurt. Not once in all those years.

“I know.” Urkot forced his fingers to loosen and his limbs to relax. “This need… The frenzy was clouding my mind. It…”

“We know how it feels,” Ketahn said solemnly.

“All too well,” Rekosh agreed.

Urkot inhaled slowly, shoving off the weight of their conversation, before looking between his two friends. “We are missing someone. Is Telok about?”

Chittering again, Rekosh glanced around. “If he is, he is using all his skills to remain out of sight.”

Carefully, Ketahn adjusted the lay of one of the basket straps across his chest. How a bit of movement could’ve jarred the broodling when all this sound had not was a mystery. “He does not care for such gatherings. Never has.”

Urkot huffed and stomped a foreleg. “We should drag him here regardless. He helped hunt for this food, and he is part of our tribe, part of Kaldarak. He is our family. Why should he not be here?”

Rekosh let out a thoughtful hum. “He will join when he is ready.”

“He should not hide himself away.”

“None of us should.” Ketahn was staring directly at Urkot, gaze heavy but nonjudgmental.

Mandibles twitching, Urkot looked past Ketahn toward the human females, who were dancing not twenty segments away.

His eyes naturally fell upon Callie. There was something different about the way she danced now.

It was carefree, joyous, reflecting the wide, radiant smile on her face and the laughter in her sparkling eyes.

Her movements weren’t sensual and seductive, but playful. And they were no less mesmerizing.

He could not help but look upon her with wonder. Her smooth brown skin, her curly hair, her soft lips and rounded curves. Her spirit, burning ever bright. Her mind, so quick, so knowledgeable. She was unlike anyone, and he wanted her for his own.

And she wants me.

Unbidden, a trill escaped him.

“You would have thrown a hundred barbs at me had you caught me staring at Ahmya like that a few moon cycles ago,” Rekosh said.

“Seems this is your opportunity,” Urkot replied, not looking away from Callie.

“My opportunity or yours, stoneskull?”

Urkot blinked, finally breaking his gaze away from Callie to look at Rekosh, and cocked his head.

“You are not unworthy, Urkot,” Ketahn said, bumping a leg against Urkot’s. “You deserve happiness as much as any of us.”

“You have simply been too hard-headed to see it,” Rekosh added.

“Perhaps you are right.” Urkot chittered to himself, swinging his attention back to Callie. “Just like you to pierce my hide, needlelegs.”

“So you will finally stop pretending you do not want her? It has grown rather exhausting.”

“I want her. All of her, now and for the rest of my days.” Urkot drew himself taller as a new sensation filled his chest—a new certainty. “I will claim her as my mate. As my everything.”