Page 11

Chapter

Eleven

S amir supposed that every male had some weakness and perhaps due to his own fault, Abby had found one of his. The picture book he had crafted when he was young and still idealistic, and perhaps a little romantic. He had no thoughts of conquering a female to keep for his own back then. Instead, he had entertained ideas of finding a rare person, perhaps someone as alone in the world as he was, who might love him and wish to spend their life with him and raise some monstrous cubs together to whom he would pass down all of his knowledge.

And reading, it happened, was something that he had prided in himself from early on. It had opened up the world to him as he taught himself numerous languages over the long span of his life. And yet, as the years passed, that dream had faded slowly bit by bit. So he had set himself to the task of making several primers, dreaming of the cubs that he would someday have. He had never suspected that those same books would gradually come to weigh heavily on his heart. He had once thought he had found a potential companion to share his life with and have offspring, but he did not want to be reminded of that betrayal.

His gaze drifted over to Abby as she bent down to inspect the shelf that she had pulled the first primer from. Over the last few days, he had raided his library to bring out others that he had made since she appeared to appreciate them so much. Her fingers trailed over the handmade books slowly, her attention fully absorbed by the volumes on the shelf.

“You really made quite a few of these,” she observed.

The note of awe in her voice rushed over him pleasantly and he allowed himself a moment to bask in it before replying.

“It was a long time ago and, as you can see, a manticore’s day is not exceedingly demanding.”

Abby looked up at him then, her brow scrunching as she straightened. “True,” she said slowly as she rejoined him and sank into her chair. “But this is more than just some hobby to pass the time, Samir, yet you don’t want to talk about it. I’m curious as to why that is. Didn’t you want a family?”

Sadness rose abruptly, almost strangling him, but he released a dry bark of laughter, scoffing as he shook his head. “I would not even know what to do with a mate in my care much less cubs.”

“But obviously you thought about it,” she pressed. “So much is unknown about monsters. Sometimes it is easier to imagine that they sprung from darkness or from some pit in the ground rather than reproduce.” She made a face. “Actually, I’m pretty sure most hunters believe that.”

He chuckled at that as it was utterly absurd, yet he had the feeling that she was telling him the truth. “Are you planning to write a book, kitten?”

“Me? Write a book?” She giggled as if he were the one being absurd. She gave him a crooked smile and shook her head. “I’m afraid that I don’t have the patience to sit in one place that long, much less occupy myself with something so tedious as writing an education manuscript. I’m a hunter, sir, not a mage.”

The corners of his mouth quirked at the title she addressed him by so easily. He was a sir now, was he? He knew it was meant in jest, but he hoped that it also meant that she was coming to see him as more than a monster but as a person, too.

“But I have to admit that I’m curious. You say that manticores have cubs. I don’t buy that you never once been tempted to have cubs of your own—even a little bit—otherwise you wouldn’t have done all of this,” she argued, gesturing to the bookcase.

His jaw clenched and his claws dug into the arm of his chair as the image of the scholarly male he had entertained rose within his mind as if conjured there by her observation. The male had seemed so soft and fragile by appearances—as delicate as the flowers that bloomed in the winter rains—and yet had been surprisingly strong and agile. His companion had possessed surprising contradictions that had fascinated him… to nearly his own peril.

He grunted softly in agreement. “Once.”

Her eyebrows winged up and she leaned forward in her chair, drawing closer to him. “What happened?”

“He betrayed me,” Samir replied flatly.

“Oh.” Abby murmured but she blinked, her brows knitting together in puzzlement. “Wait… he?”

Despite sinking into a grim mood with this topic of conversation, Samir chuckled. “I am a manticore. We are not like humans are many other species. Manticores are only male and this is largely because of how we reproduce.”

“I don’t get it.”

He settled back into his chair as he fixed her with a grim look. “The details are not exactly pleasant.”

“Spill,” she demanded.

Samir sighed. He did try to warn her. “We implant our offspring into our mates by way of a special stinger on our tails. Of course, this was not always the way. At one time, the ancients did not mate but merely chose a host to implant their offspring into—someone suitable to carry their young and whose flesh the cubs would afterwards feast upon. Much like some species of wasps.”

Abby gagged a little and his lips twisted in agreement. He did not blame her.

“Male, female, it didn’t matter. The only real difference was that a female had a convenient place to implant our young where her body would expel the offspring naturally. Those who lacked a womb would require the manticore to extract his offspring from their flesh. Either way, they were merely meat after the male retrieved his cub.”

“Gods.” Abby shuddered. “I sincerely hope that is something that will remain firmly in the past.”

His lips twisted with dark amusement. “It is far more advantageous to keep the meat alive for more cubs to be born,” he teased to which she hurdled a disgusted look in his direction. He sobered in the next moment, however. “I will not lie. There are some few manticores who keep to the old ways. They are usually destroyed the moment they are discovered.” He met her eyes soberly. “As it happens, we distribute justice upon our own without needing human intervention to take down the truly monstrous among us. Most manticores have fond memories of our human parent and would wish nothing more for a mate from the time that we are young.”

“And you thought you found that in him,” she murmured. “What happened?”

“I do not like to talk about it,” he growled, rising from his chair. He did not even want to think about it any longer. “I have satisfied your curiosity about my species, but I am not interested in digging into painful history for your amusement.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant,” she protested as she jumped from her chair to follow him.

He did not know exactly what happened but that somehow her feet must have become tangled on something because she dropped to the floor with a loud enough crack that he halted and whirled around, his heart pounding with fear that she might have done serious harm to herself. Rushing to her side, he grabbed her beneath her arms and hauled her to her feet just as she was beginning to push herself upright and held her out in front of him as he ran his eyes over her frantically.

“Have you harmed yourself? Is there pain anywhere?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m fine. The only thing that hurts is my damned pride. I got up too quick and got tangled in my throw I keep here,” she grumbled.

Samir nodded, lightheaded with relief, and carefully set her back on her feet before releasing her. “I thought I heard something crack. I was afraid that it was your skull.”

Abby looked up at him and her eyes squinted faintly in genuine amusement as a quiet chuckle left her lips. “I’m afraid my head is a bit harder than that. You’re right, though. I heard something did crack, as well, but I can’t imagine.—" Suddenly her face paled, and a loud curse burst from her lips as she began to dig into the layers of her clothing. “Fuck! No, no, please!” A low, pained groan escaped her, and she pulled out the broken case of a flare.

“You were just carrying that flare around on you?” he inquired, impressed with her commitment and the fact that she had concealed it so well.

“Well, yes, I couldn’t just leave it somewhere where it might be found and I thought maybe—” she froze, her eyes shooting up to him accusingly. “You knew . You knew what this is and that I had this thing on me the entire time ?”

Samir stared at her, suddenly uneasy. Was there is a slightly shrill note to her voice just then? “Of course. I did search your clothing and body to remove all of your weapons if you recall. I know exactly what you had with you. Why wouldn’t I recognize a flare? Humans had these for quite some time in some fashion.”

For a moment it looked as if she might truly attack him and draw blood with her puny claws. And as angry as she appeared, Samir was not entirely convinced that she would not be able to do it. This was not part of the game. But, to his relief, she did not attack. Abby groaned as her head dropped, and she tossed the broken flare to the ground.

“If I had known I wouldn’t have been hiding it on me,” she grumbled. “This was my only way to communicate with Zayman and ask him to return for me. Now… I truly am stuck here.”

His eyes dropped to the flare.

“Ah,” he replied and immediately gave her a capitulating smile when her head shot up so that she could glare at him. “I mean nothing by it, kitten. I had not realized that your plan depended on something so… fragile,” he concluded, diplomatically settling on that word rather than his first choice.

Foolish was more accurate and he wondered whose plan that was… hers or this Zayman. He had little doubt it was the latter. Abby would not have trusted her safety to a single flare if she had been the one arranging things. She was far too intelligent for that. There was a good chance that this Zayman did not even care if she died out in the desert, and that did not set well with him. Not at all.

A low growl rose to his lips and Abby quickly skittered away from him. His gaze shifted to her and, upon seeing her unease, he felt an immediate pang of regret.

Closing his eyes, he fought for his calm and did not dare open them until he found it. He did not know if it was because she trusted him or because of her fear that she did not take that opportunity to flee but he was grateful regardless.

“Thank you for not running,” he murmured.

“Where am I going to go?” she asked with a bitter laugh. “Without that flare I would likely die on that desert going by foot and without adequate supplies. Just tell me if you are planning on killing me now or not.”

“Not. I have no intention or desire to harm you. That was not because of you,” he assured her. “I was thinking of what could have happened to you if you had been successful escaping and the flare had failed or simply been ignored.”

That was apparently not something that she had thought of in her haste to get away from him because her face went deathly pale and he edged closer so that he would be in position to catch her if she fainted.

She shook her head. “I… I’m okay. The flare… it was to signal him to return once my mission was completed so that he could bring back a trophy or your entire corpse if the king desired. I had decided to use it to trick him into returning for me but none of this had occurred to me. Gods, even if I had succeeded, he might have just left me here for dead!”

He nodded grimly, his heart going out to her. He did not like seeing her so distressed now that she was confronted with the reality of her situation. He needed to do something… something to ease her heart a little. The idea came to him then that made his stinger curl against his back and vibrate with delight.

“Come with me,” he murmured. “There is something I would very much like to show you.”