Kraving Tavak (The Krave of Everton Book 4)

by Zoey Draven

  She smiled and her eyes drifted down to the black package in her hands. The paper was soft and thick. It felt like velvet across her fingertips.

  And when she opened it, a soft, delighted gasp fell from her lips. Familiar green silk fell like water from the paper and she snatched the end of the material quickly to keep it from falling on the sticky floor.

  Frozen, Stella clutched the silk close. The bar was still dirtied from the night before since she’d been too tired to clean, as she usually did. And she didn’t want the silk to get dirtied so she rushed upstairs to her room.

  There, Stella spread out the sumptuous, lavish silk, admiring its deep color in the sunlight that drifted across her bed, admiring it just as she’d done early yesterday. She couldn’t see a single thread and it felt like air in her hands.

  Her mind was reeling at who would send her such a beautiful—and expensive—gift. Lubbina? She’d been across the way when Stella had been admiring it. Maybe she’d been able to strike a deal with the Jetutian vendor.

  But her friend would have told her, surely, would have wanted to deliver it in person. The Jetutian sure as hell wouldn’t have given it to her, had turned his nose up at her the moment she’d walked up to his stall.

  Tavak? Stella dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. He didn’t seem like the type. One of the bar patrons, perhaps? Any one of them could’ve seen her at the market yesterday.

  She sighed. She’d ask Lubbina…even though she wasn’t certain she could keep such an expensive present. It didn’t seem right. But until she could find out who’d given it to her and return it, Stella thought there was no harm in looking at it. Touching it. Fantasizing about a dress she could make with it, imagining how luxurious it would feel.

  There was no harm in that, was there?

  Chapter Seven

  Tavak was watching as the last shipment was loaded onto the vessel. His arms were crossed over his chest, the manifest gripped loosely in one of his hands. It was only a shipment of firestones, heading for the Fourth Quadrant. A full load of them. Khiva had been working in the labs for a solid week, hardly sleeping, in order to get them done on time.

  His pregnant mate, Eve, had needed to drag him home a time or two.

  The captain of the ship approached.

  “All good?” the older human male asked.

  Tavak inclined his head. “The rest of the payment will be sent to you once you deliver the shipment. A tracker’s been placed inside among the firestones. So we’ll know once that happens.”

  The older male got squirmy. “I don’t like anyone having eyes on my ship. Isn’t it enough that I gave you a deposit?”

  This was why Khiva put Tavak in charge of overseeing the warehouse and the shipments. Because Tavak didn’t bat an eye if a merchant gave him trouble. Most were okay with the terms. Firestones were an expensive good. Khiva wasn’t a fool. They’d had a couple merchants try to disappear with a fully stocked cargo hold, after all. These measures were in place for a reason.

  Tavak leveled the human with a cold stare, one that made him still.

  “If you don’t like it, I can have the firestones unloaded from your ship right now.”

  The human male swallowed. He ran a hand through his tied back hair—another human gesture that made Tavak press his lips together—and blew out a breath.

  “Fine, fine,” the captain said. “When will we get the credits back?”

  “Once you deliver it and we receive confirmation from the purchaser that all the goods are there. A moment after that, you’ll receive your credits.”

  The captain grumbled a bit but nodded. It was his first run, doing business with Khiva. Already, he was giving Tavak pause but he would discuss it with Khiva later.

  Tavak stayed at the docks until he saw the ship beginning to push out from port. It was loud, the engines firing, a metal, groaning beast. That was where Ravu wanted to be? In space? With nothing more than a wall keeping him from death?

  Tavak cursed, his fists squeezing again, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to change his brother’s mind. His decision was made.

  Once the ship had disappeared from view, Tavak connected the tracker to the Coms device and then left port.

  Back at the warehouse, he found Dravka waiting for him, pouring over the numbers of their inventory, perched at a small table, Coms devices all around him.

  “Shouldn’t you be home with your mate?” Tavak asked, sliding into the seat across from his Keriv’i friend. He felt more like a blood brother at this point, however. They had been together on Everton, in Madame Allegria’s brothel, for ten years together. It had seemed like a lifetime.

  “I have to finish this first,” Dravka said, his brow bone furrowed in concentration. But it was clear his attention was elsewhere. Tavak could feel the frustration in his chest rising. “Vauk.”

  “Your Rut coming?” Tavak asked him.

  He knew the signs. Demav, Tavak’s Rut was coming on fast too. He could feel the tightness in his muscles, the pinch in his belly.

  “Pax,” Dravka replied. He slid a glance across the table at Tavak. “It might hit tonight so I’ll be with Valerie for a couple days. That’s why I wanted to finish this.”

  Keriv’i males, once they came of age, experienced a Rut every month or two. A Rut, where everything the Keriv’i focused on was spilling his seed, fucking, mating, marking.

  On Everton, it had been too dangerous for the Keriv’i to endure their Rut with the human female clients that visited them nightly. Instead, they’d spent a couple days chained to their beds, writhing, cocks weeping, teeth gritting, trying to find release and being denied.

  It had been hell. But unmated Keriv’i had always learned to endure a Rut alone.

  Dravka and Khiva both had mates now, to see their Ruts through with. Tavak had never been with a female during one of his, even on Kerivu, even on Jrika. He’d often wondered what it would be like, to be in such a state of high arousal and frenzy and know that he could actually release it.

  “You should go home,” Tavak told him. “I’ll finish this, pax?”

  Dravka bit out a long sigh.

  It was late. The shipment at the port had taken longer to load than Tavak had expected. And the last thing Tavak wanted was a Keriv’i male beginning his Rut right in front of him.

  Dravka looked across the table at him. “Did the merchant leave port without issue?”

  “He was upset about the tracker. Asked about the schedule for payment. His ship was a little run-down, needed too many repairs. I’d advise Khiva not to use him again, even if he does follow through with the drop.”

  “We are shipping so fast that there aren’t enough merchants in the area,” Dravka said. Then he leveled Tavak a long look. “Ravu told me. About leaving Dumera.”

  Tavak grunted, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s his decision.”

  “One you don’t like.”

  “Of course I don’t like it. Would you?”

  “He leaves in a couple days, doesn’t he?”

  Tavak inclined his head. “For three weeks, he says.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out about the vessel he’s leaving on. I checked into the captain and we’ve done business with him before. He always delivered on time and in full.”

  At least he was an honest merchant. Those were more and more difficult to come by these days.

  Dravka stood from the table. He clasped Tavak’s arm and Tavak clasped his back.

  “See you in a couple days,” Tavak said, nodding at his friend.

  Dravka squeezed. “I’ll try to be at the port when Ravu leaves. See you then.”

  The Keriv’i male left and then Tavak was alone in that vast warehouse. Quiet and echoing, dark empty crates spread throughout, waiting to be filled. He dragged the Coms devices towards him and got to work.

  By the time he reached Reji’s bar, it was nearing closing time. Only a few of the regular patrons lingered and when Tavak saw Stella—standing at the counter,
swiping a clean cloth over washed goblets, his nostrils flared.

  His eyes ate at her, consuming and wanting. When she saw him in the doorway, her expression brightened. So vauking easy to read, Tavak marveled. He’d never encountered another being who wore their emotions so easily. Keriv’i had always been taught to hide what they felt, to suppress the stronger emotions.

  But not Stella. Humans, he’d found, were certainly a more expressive species, but Stella was…something else entirely. Something more.

  When he approached the bar and took his seat, she came over to him, wiping her hands on the damp cloth.

  Her black hair was braided down her back, the tail of it reaching her waist. Her cheeks were flushed from working in the warm bar but the night outside was beginning to cool.

  “I thought I’d scared you off,” she commented, her eyes glittering in the low lighting of the bar.

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I told you you had to try one of the root chips tonight. And then you didn’t show,” she said, her voice light and teasing. “Fortunately for you, Poy’ra already ate all of yours.”

  Amusement slid into his chest but he knew that it didn’t show in his expression.

  Stella studied his face, blinking as she ran those eyes over him. He wondered what she thought of him. Females on Everton had thought him handsome enough, though his regular clients came to him because…well, he was the roughest of the Krave at Madame Allegria’s brothel. Sometimes, he fucked like he hated his partner. Because they hadn’t been partners, had they? They’d been purchasers.

  They’d bought him for the night and so Tavak had fucked them like he was punishing them for it.

  His amusement died in his chest but his eyes kept Stella’s and he felt a bit of the sudden tightness in his body begin to loosen.

  It’s only a matter of time, isn’t it? Tavak mused silently.

  He’d been putting it off for two months now. At first, he hadn’t cared for her. He’d forgotten her as soon as she’d left his sight, the day she’d arrived on Dumera. But then she’d found work here. He’d been irritated by it, naturally, that this human female—the one species of female that drudged up too many memories for him, memories he’d rather forget—had infiltrated his favorite drinking hole.

  Then, somehow, some way, she’d wiggled herself into his mind.

  And she’d never left.

  She’d stayed and lingered.

  Now, it was her that Tavak thought of at night when he was trying to sleep. Or when he couldn’t stand the heavy, aching weight in his taxxa and he finally took his cock in hand and released some tension. He thought of her eyes, her lips, her hips, that vauking smile. Sometimes, he came so hard his eyes rolled back into his skull.

  A sudden laugh from the corner of the bar—one of the two Laotis sitting together and talking quietly—broke Tavak out of his thoughts.

  Stella blinked quickly, her lips parting, and then she said, “Let me get you your drink.”

  Tavak’s eyes trailed down her backside when she turned, his body tightening more, before he forced himself to look away. Taking a deep breath in through his nostrils didn’t help, because he scented a tinge of Stella’s scent. Sweet and heady, it made his mind swirl.

  He knew what this was. He’d realized it with a jolt the night before and had lost a night’s sleep over it.

  The nuvur’u drava.

  The linking.

  It was very likely that Stella was meant to be his mate. His forever mate. Which was problematic because Tavak had no intention of ever taking a female to be his own. Females always meant trouble. He didn’t want any more vauking trouble in his life.

  “Here you go,” Stella said, returning a moment later, with a goblet filled to the brim with dark, sloshy liquid.

  Tavak was highly aware of her as he took a long drink from it. She had a small smile on her face but Tavak paused when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the red veins that ran through the whites of her eyes, the subtle sag of her shoulders.

  He frowned, setting his drink back down.

  “You look tired.”

  He knew he shouldn’t say that to a human female, that she might take offense to it. When he’d been an Everton whore, he’d always been expected to flatter his clients, tell them they were beautiful, make them feel like his whole world revolved around them so that they’d book another visit with him. Madame Allegria had ingrained that in them, after all.

  But Tavak wasn’t on Everton anymore. He never would be again.

  Stella didn’t seem hurt by the comment, however. The corner of her lip lifted slightly.

  “I didn’t get much sleep,” she admitted. He wondered what kept her up at night. “And I didn’t clean the bar last night, so it was a long afternoon. And I have to wake up early tomorrow because there’s another shipment coming in from port.”

  Not for the first time, Tavak was irritated that Reji had left Stella here, to run his establishment all on her own. The older Reku’io male didn’t have a mean bone in his body but he was often…forgetful. And absentminded.

  “What’s the shipment?” Tavak asked. He knew all the ships that came and went from Dumera. It was his job.

  “A few barrels of wine,” she answered, leaning her elbows on the bar slab. One of the last patrons in the bar stood from his seat and Stella gave him a wave goodbye and a smile as he left. Only the two Laotis in the corner and Tavak remained.

  Tavak grunted.

  “Sorry for complaining,” she said, flushing a little with embarrassment, something Tavak didn’t understand. “I get a little cranky when I don’t get my sleep.”

  His brow almost rose. She called this cranky? She should see some of the Laotis he worked with at the warehouse, or some of the merchants he dealt with that came into port.

  “But my day was made better because I got a gift. A beautiful silk I saw during market day,” she said, smiling. Tavak tensed slightly, reaching for his goblet. “Though I don’t know who it was from. It was a nice surprise.”

  Tavak relaxed. So, Ewwin did keep his word.

  He grunted again, taking a long sip from his brew. He didn’t know why he’d bought the silk for Stella. He supposed….he supposed he just wanted to give her something that she desired. Not something that was practical—like the hideous, thick material she’d purchased at the market. He’d watched her run her fingers over the green silk yesterday, stroking over it like it was precious.

  His body tightened when a flash of a fantasy crossed through his mind. Of her long, soft fingers stroking over his flesh. Of them clutching into his back, her dull little nails making marks.

  His Rut was definitely coming. And it would be a strong one, no doubt stoked by the very female that stood innocently in front of him.

  “Can I ask you something?” came that soft, husky voice.

  Tavak’s nostrils flared.

  “Have you been on Dumera long?”

  His hand tightened on the goblet.

  “Four months now,” he found himself saying.

  She nodded, but he sensed that that wasn’t what she wanted to know. He feared he knew.

  “Where did you come from?” she asked. “Before here?”

  His jaw tightened and his gaze dropped, down to the black liquid that lingered at the bottom of his cup. He felt the pull of her question. If he told her the truth, she would only have more and he wasn’t certain he wanted to answer those questions, especially to her.

  Tavak didn’t want her to know what he’d been before. He just wanted to shed that life like an old skin.

  When his silence stretched long, her small, curious smile wavered, but she hid it well.

  Unable to stand that expression, Tavak said, “The Fourth Quadrant.”

  Stella seemed to sense that that was all he’d say.

  “Me too,” she said, her voice light, making the knot in his chest slowly begin to unravel.

  The look he threw her was mildly exasperated, one that made her gr
in. And that grin…it shot straight to his cock, making it throb.

  Wanting to distract himself from that burning, he asked, “Which Earth colony were you born on?”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “On Genesis,” she said. “But we left when I was young.”

  He licked his bottom lip. He wondered who ‘we’ was. Family? Where were they now?

  “Have you ever been?” she teased, knowing full well that the Earth colonies had a closed borders policy. Only merchants and traders were allowed in, and even then, they weren’t allowed to leave port.

  If only she knew.

  “Not to Genesis,” he replied, draining the last of his brew.

  Then he caught her eyes, hesitating.

  “A friend of mine is from Genesis,” he finally told her. “She was born there too. You might have seen her around.”

  Stella’s eyes widened. She leaned forward on the counter. “You mean the woman who’s pregnant? She’s from Genesis?”

  Veki, Eve—Khiva’s mate—was from Everton.

  “There’s another female,” Tavak told her, shaking his head. “Her name is Valerie.”

  Realization dawned in Stella’s eyes. “I think I know who you’re talking about. There’s not many human women here, after all. She’s the one with dark hair? Long? About my height?”

  Tavak nodded. “Pax.”

  “I’ll have to introduce myself when I see her next,” Stella said. “I’ve been a little shy about it before.”

  Tavak almost snorted. Stella? Shy? He didn’t think so.

  Stella must’ve seen the look on his face because she laughed, quiet and beautiful. Her cheeks reddened.

  “I haven’t encountered many humans in a long time, believe it or not. And the ones I have seen have been men. I’m more comfortable around big, hulking Gharatans than I am around humans these days.”

  Tavak believed that.

  He didn’t know why he asked the next thing that came out of his mouth.

  “And what about Keriv’i? How comfortable are you around them?”

  Stella blinked, her lips parting. Then she swallowed, hard enough that Tavak heard it.