If she’d not earned their respect already, she certainly had it now. Orishok had taught her well.
Given their limited time and resources, he was happy with the results as their third day in the snow shelter had dawned. He and Balir now sat on Nina’s blanket, weaving plant fibers and sinew into thread.
Aduun’s hunts had yielded two more frostfur kills, providing the group with several tough hides, a collection of bones and sinew, and a few crude waterskins. Additionally, the valos had controlled their hunger enough to stockpile dried meat for the coming journey.
Vortok frowned at that thought. Hardship and fear had seen them to this place; the cold had nearly killed Nina on that first day. They would not allow that to happen again, couldn’t bear it. But all the same, their time here had been pleasant. Though it would never be the same as his life before the change, he’d been reminded often of those times, warming his heart and his heartstone alike.
Whatever else Kelsharn had taken, they were still a tribe. They were still holding on to those ties, those bonds, despite the wild, bestial natures they’d been instilled with.
But their time here was nearing its end. They couldn’t wait much longer, couldn’t risk conditions worsening.
Vortok dropped his gaze to his thick, blunt fingers. The threads were tiny, his hands were clumsy, and the intricate work wasn’t easy for him, but he would not let that stop him. Before the change, he’d taken joy in such tasks. He’d taken pride in the quality of his work. This was the first time he’d done any of it in a thousand years, and he would enjoy himself despite the circumstances, despite some of it being more challenging than it used to be.
He looked at Balir, whose long, flexible fingers would’ve been perfect for such work were it not for the impediment of the hooked claws at their tips. The concentration on Balir’s face was almost comical.
“You have done much already, Balir,” Vortok said. “Perhaps Aduun could use your help outside.”
Balir completed the thread he was working on, set it aside, and stretched his fingers. “It seems neither of us is well-suited to this work anymore. I’ll send Nina in. She’s been out there too long.” He gathered the pieces he’d woven and placed them on the blanket beside Vortok before standing up and making his way out.
Finishing the last of his weave, Vortok turned to the pile of threads and spread them with his fingertips. It would be enough for his purposes, with some to spare.
He was arranging pieces of hide on the ground when Nina entered. He glanced at her over his shoulder. She wore the heavy fur from Aduun’s first kill like a cloak; crude, but far better protection than her clothing provided.
Vortok would see to that now.
She brushed snow from her shoulders and slid the fur off, carrying it across the shelter, where she laid it near the fire. Turning back to Vortok, she smiled. “Balir said you had some work for me?”
He returned her smile and nodded, producing a deep hum in his chest. “Come.”
Nina sat in front of him, and he lifted one of the hides, comparing the cut to her body one last time to be sure. Satisfied, he lowered it again and motioned to the various pieces.
“These will become your new coverings,” he said, flipping a piece over so the fur was face down to show her the holes he’d punched. “We will use the thread to bind the pieces together into a whole.”
Nina’s eyes widened, and her brows rose. “You made that for me?”
“I am making it for you,” he replied. “It is not done.”
Her cheeks darkened in a blush as she looked down at the hide, but her smile didn’t fade. “That’s what I meant. Where would you like me to start?”
Vortok showed her how the pieces fit together and demonstrated using the thread to bind them. She was working in no time, her nimble fingers making it look easy.
“You’ve done this before,” he said. He couldn’t help a pang of jealousy at the dexterity of her hands, but it was quickly replaced by admiration.
Nina looked up from her work to meet his gaze. The light from the low burning fire cast a soft glow upon her skin. “My father wanted me to be able to survive on my own if I needed to, so he taught me everything he knew. He’d say that the things left behind by Kelsharn would eventually be gone, but my knowledge would remain.”
Vortok worked on another piece of hide as she spoke. His progress was slower than hers, but he wouldn’t allow his ungainly fingers to reduce the quality of his bindings. “Sounds like wisdom to me. Orishok was young when Kelsharn took our clan. I am glad he grew into a man and has remembered our ways.”
Her fingers stilled. “He never knew what happened to you. He thought he was the last…” She frowned. “Well, he is the last of what Kelsharn shaped him and the rest of the tribe into.”
Dread formed in Vortok’s gut, a heavy weight threatening to pull him down. What he and his clan had become was unnatural enough. “What were the other clans shaped into?”
“Death.”
Vortok’s fingers halted, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. If her tone weren’t enough, he knew by her expression that she meant what she’d said.
“He shaped them into walking embodiments of death. He’s…not like you or the others. He has no living flesh, no heart, no blood. He doesn’t eat, drink, or sleep. He’s alive, yet…not. My mother, Quinn, calls it magic.” Nina resumed her stitching. “He used to be unable to control his power. Anything and everything he touched would wither and die. There was no life in Bahmet until Quinn arrived. Before her, he’d been alone for more than one hundred and fifty years.
“His people, what remained of them, had simply…given up. Kelsharn had hidden their heartstones, leaving them devoid of emotion, devoid of hope. They gave in to the death within themselves one by one, until only Orishok remained, and he’s held their vigil ever since.”
Vortok frowned deeply, dropping his gaze to his hands as a confusing mess of emotions swirled through him. That was what Kelsharn had made after Vortok and his ilk, the beast valos, had proven themselves failures. He’d infused the other clans with death, and stripped away their emotions…
And only one remained. His memory drifted back to those gatherings that had occurred every spring, after the snows thawed, when all the clans would come together for trade, to celebrate old friendships and forge new ones, to take mates. When they would come together as one huge tribe, one people. And each year, Vortok’s hides had been considered the finest. His leatherworks the most sought after.
All that was gone now, and there was a chance that Orishok, Aduun, Balir, and Vortok were the only ones left.
Nina covered one of his hands with her own, drawing his attention back to her face. “The others are down here somewhere.” She smiled when their eyes met. “We will find them.”
Her certainty rekindled his own; whether chance was in their favor or not didn’t matter. They would push forward and prevail. Even if they couldn’t reclaim what had been lost, they would make something new in the face of Kelsharn’s evils.
He turned his palm up, curling his fingers gently around her little hand, and brushed her skin with his thumb. Her hands were red, and her flesh was dry and cracking around her knuckles thanks to exposure to the cold, but that did not detract from their beauty.
“I am sure we will,” he said, voice low. “You already found us.”
Nina was silent, staring at his fingers as they moved. Did she recall their shared dream? How she had touched his body fearlessly, without disgust. How she’d taken his shaft and caressed him, stroked him, brought him pleasure he hadn’t felt in centuries? How her mouth had pressed against his, and her tongue…
Her lips parted, and she released an unsteady breath. “I do, Vortok,” she said softly. “I remember.” She lifted her other hand and slipped her fingers into his chest fur.
Vortok’s heart quickened at her touch, and his heartstone flared.
Nina withdrew her hands, pushed aside the hides they’d been working on, and climbe
d onto his lap. Straddling his thighs, she returned her hands to his face and ran her fingertips over his features, touching his tusks and brushing them through his mane.
He caught one of her wrists, stilling her hand. “Think of me…as I was.”
Nina frowned, her eyes locking with his. She ran the back of her fingers along his cheek. “You are as you were, Vortok. Here,” she touched his temple before pressing a palm over his pounding heart, “and here.”
He dipped his head, moving his face nearer to hers, and closed his eyes. When he inhaled, her scent teased his senses. Gently, he lifted her hand to his face, guiding her palm to the tusks and bony protrusions jutting from his skin. “Even with all this?”
“Vortok, look at me,” she beckoned softly.
How could he deny her request? How could he deny her anything? He opened his eyes and met her gaze again.
“I chose you, all of you, as you are.” Her fingers curled over the short horns on the sides of his face. “I want you.” She pulled him closer and brought her mouth to his.
He did not understand how her lips could be so soft and so powerful at once, or how that relatively tiny amount of contact could produce such a large reaction in him. She’d pressed her mouth against his during their dream, but that sensation could not compare to this, could not compare to reality. His cock hardened.
Her lips caressed his, brushing lightly only to press more firmly. His shaft stiffened further when he felt the moist tip of her tongue flick against the seam of his mouth. He opened to her, and her tongue slowly slipped inside, teasing. He settled his hands on her waist and tugged her closer. It wasn’t long before he learned the movements of her mouth and matched them, conquered them.
“Vortok?” she said against his lips.
“Hmm?”
“You still haven’t had your taste, and I’m…curious to have a taste of you too.”
Nina’s words sparked something inside him, something deeper and more primal than he’d experienced even after a thousand years of being melded with a beast. It was beyond lust, beyond desire. It was need; a need to fulfill her, to provide for her, to lay his true claim upon her.
His straining, aching cock brushed her backside through her skirt. He shuddered, hands flexing as the beast demanded he throw her to the ground and mount her. He would not give in. To do so would harm her, even kill her if he didn’t exercise restraint. She was so small compared to him; would he be too big for her?
Vortok reached around her, fumbled for the ties of her clothing, and loosened them with his large, clumsy fingers. When the laces knotted, he could not suppress a flash of rage; he tore them apart with a growl.
He paused and shook his head, focusing on the torn lacing. Their supplies were limited, and she needed all the warm clothing she could get. They couldn’t afford to destroy anything. “I’m sorry. I will replace them.”
Nina’s body shook with laughter. “It’s okay,” she said, reaching back to undo the remaining laces on her skirt before shrugging off her chest covering. His eyes went immediately to her breasts. She climbed off his lap and stood, sliding her skirt down her legs.
She stood bare before him, even more beautiful than she’d been in the surreal, lust-hazed dream they’d shared. Vortok’s gaze traveled over her form, pausing on the patch of hair between her thighs. His mouth watered at the memory of that small taste he’d had. He glanced up to find her eyes gleaming with the same hunger, the same desire, that he felt.
He knew it wasn’t feigned. It couldn’t be. Whatever he saw in his own reflection, she saw more, she saw past it. She saw Vortok.
“Come, Nina,” he said, holding his hands out to her.
She stepped closer, smiling at him. He grasped her by the hips and lifted her up as soon as she was close enough. She gasped as he turned her and positioned her to straddle his chest backward.
“Vortok!” She placed her hands on his abdomen and began pushing herself up.
He settled a hand on her lower back, stilling her movement, and hummed at the sight before him. Lifting his other hand to her cradle her ass, he spread her slit open with his thumbs to reveal the glistening petals of her sex. The alluring, maddening scent of her arousal struck him fully, and he tightened his grip on her.
“Vortok?”
Her voice was a distant thing as a haze of lust clouded his mind. Without another thought, he pulled her closer, pressing his mouth to her center.
Nina gasped, fingers digging into his stomach. She bucked, but he kept her firmly in place. He was careful of his tusks and horns as he ravished her sex, licking and nipping at the delicate folds, feeding on the sweet nectar it so readily provided him. She panted and moaned, and soon she was pressing closer to him, undulating against his tongue, her body taken over by instinct.
She grasped his cock, and he growled, thrusting his hips into her touch. Her tongue hesitantly trailed over the tip of his shaft, followed a moment later by the moist heat of her mouth. All thought gave way to pure sensation — the pressure of her lips around his shaft, the slide of her tongue, her scent permeating the air, and her taste filling his mouth, so sweet, so tempting. He needed more. More of her.
As he’d seen Balir do, Vortok latched onto that small bud that seemed to bring Nina so much pleasure and sucked, lashing it with his tongue. She tensed and pulled her mouth away from his cock as she cried out, her soft moans taking a higher pitch between each ragged breath. He greedily drank the fresh nectar flowing from her, unable to get enough.
Nina rocked her pelvis against Vortok’s mouth. He continued to lap at her as she descended from her peak, the movements of his tongue leisurely, as though he were savoring each taste. Did he draw as much pleasure from performing the act as she had receiving it?
She opened her eyes to look at his cock, still grasped tightly in her fist. Seed trickled from its tip. She’d finally tasted it, had finally learned the flavor that had been missing from the dream, and she wanted more.
Nina lowered her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of his shaft; he was too big for her to take any deeper. She sucked and caressed him with her tongue. He lifted his hips, and the movement slid his shaft within her hand. He released a shuddering breath against her sex, muscles tensing.
Encouraged by his reaction, she squeezed and stroked him faster. He kneaded her flesh as he lowered his hands, hooking them around her inner thighs to tug her legs wider apart. With renewed vigor, he lapped at her sex, sending waves of ecstasy through her body. She moaned around his cock, unwilling to relinquish it as Vortok swiftly brought her to another climax.
Vortok stiffened, arching his back to lift his hips off the furs, and growled. Nina’s eyes widened in surprise as liquid heat burst into her mouth. She pulled away, swallowing what was in her mouth, and watched streams of Vortok’s seed spurt over his pelvis and stomach. It was…fascinating. She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t been prepared. It was an arousing sight.
This was the same substance that had been on her belly and back when she’d woken from their shared dream to find Balir’s head between her thighs. Had she brought them to completion then, while they’d slept?
Vortok groaned, a rumbling purr vibrating through his chest, and she felt contentment emanating from him in gentle waves. Licking her lips, Nina turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. He met her gaze as he placed a gentle kiss on her sex before drawing back with a wicked grin.
“I still want more,” he said.
Movement at the entrance of the shelter caught Nina’s attention — the loosely packed snow that had blocked it from the wind crumbling — and she laughed. “You’ll have to share.”
Aduun crawled inside and stood up. His amber eyes swept over the scene before him — Nina still straddling Vortok’s chest backward, his seed splattered on his stomach, her moisture glistening on his lips and chin.
She felt the aggression in the air before either valo acted upon it; as uncomfortable as it felt, it increased her excitement. There was a sexual
energy to it, a possessiveness that only promised her more pleasure. She’d only scratched the surface of what was possible, she knew, and they would come to find new heights together.
Vortok’s hands closed over Nina’s hips. He carefully moved her aside and sat up, glaring at Aduun.
“Go assist Balir with the meat,” Aduun said. His tone welcomed no argument.
“I am tending to something else right now,” Vortok replied, voice descending into a low growl. His hackles rose as he climbed to his feet.
Aduun raised his quills in response. “It is time for you to go.”
They moved up to each other. Even slightly hunched, Vortok was a head taller than Aduun, but the smaller valo displayed no fear, showed no signs of backing down.
“I will not—”
“Be easy,” Nina said, placing her hand on Vortok’s arm. He twisted to look down at her, the anger on his face smoothing into a gentle, questioning expression. She reached up with her other hand and touched his cheek. “You had your taste. It will not be the last.”
He frowned, but she felt his inner beast subside, soothed by her calm, confident promise.
Nina shifted her gaze to Aduun. He stared at her with scalding intensity in his eyes, and she realized suddenly that it wasn’t merely jealousy, possessiveness, or aggression he was projecting. It was desire. Powerful, consuming desire. Balir and Vortok had touched her, had pleasured her, but Aduun had not yet had his turn…
She knew by the look in his eyes that he wouldn’t settle for a mere taste.
“Help Balir,” Nina said softly, meeting Vortok’s gaze. “We will finish the hides later. And remember that I’ve chosen you, also.”
Vortok nodded hesitantly. Casting one more glare at Aduun, he moved past the other valo and crawled out of the shelter, pausing to quickly pile snow in the opening from the outside.
Aduun didn’t look away from Nina for an instant. Once the entrance was covered, he stepped forward, radiating immense heat despite the snow and ice clinging to his short fur. Nina slipped her tongue out to wet her lips as she looked up, unable but to sway toward him.
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