Kraving Tavak (The Krave of Everton Book 4)

by Zoey Draven

  She laughed.

  “I’ve encountered a few Keriv’i before,” she said quietly, her eyes glittering. “I like them well enough. Some more than enough,” she teased, keeping his eyes. “More than I should.”

  Tavak felt the back of his neck tingle as the air thickened between them.

  Tavak’s senses narrowed in on her, listening to the way her breath picked up, watching her fingers press hard against the bar slab in front of him. His hand ran down his tightened jaw and he couldn’t stop his gaze from flickering to her lips, to the tanned column of her throat, to her breasts, outlined in her brown tunic.

  Stella jumped when the two Laotis stood from their table across the room, the sound of the chairs scraping against the wood unpleasantly. Her breath came fast and Tavak almost cursed under his breath.

  The sound of clinking credits hitting their table, to pay for their brews, filled the sudden stretch of silence.

  “Have a good night,” Stella called out to them as they exited the bar, stepping back from the slab.

  Tavak looked down at his brew, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

  He felt her eyes return to him, an unspoken question there that he heard loud and clear.

  But it was a dangerous thing to be alone with her. With her scent in his nostrils and her teasing laugh still ringing in his ears. And Tavak realized that he was very, very alone with her. He’d never stayed this late. The bar was cleared out, free of patrons.

  Tavak stood.

  “I’ll let you close up,” he rasped, trying not to look at her, his body tight and heavy with desire. He pulled his credits from his pocket, slid them across the counter to her.

  Tavak finally locked eyes with her. And he didn’t know why he asked what he did next. Maybe he wanted to give her fair warning. Maybe he wanted to scare her off. Maybe he wanted to dissuade her from going down this path with him because it wouldn’t end well.

  “You know I won’t be good for you, right?” he asked.

  Stella didn’t hesitate in her reply, as if she’d been anticipating it since the moment she’d first turned that smile onto him.

  “Maybe you should let me decide that for myself.”

  Chapter Eight

  Stella stifled a yawn as she dragged the cart behind her, one of the rusty wheels groaning its protest loudly.

  Her footsteps were quiet as she traveled the familiar road to the docking ports, which were near the transport depot. She encountered a few souls along the way, most heading towards the train to the Dumerian mines. If Reji hadn’t given her the job in the bar, Stella very likely would’ve had to work there.

  Hard, manual labor. Difficult work, even for stronger, larger beings. The firestones production lab was a major employer on Dumera but those jobs were rare now, or so Haase had told her when he brought her here. Most of those jobs were snapped up swiftly because the alternative was the mines.

  Stella was lucky that Reji had given her a chance. She liked working at the bar, she truly did. She loved chatting with the patrons every night, she liked restocking the shelves—except for the kegs of Luxirian brew, of course—she even liked cleaning it, wiping down all the surfaces until they gleamed. There was comfort in it. Like she got to start fresh each day.

  She could do without the long hours, the lack of sleep, the dark, cramped, musty room, and the meager pay, however. When she’d first come to Dumera, she’d seen tall jivera trees, where most made their homes. In the trees, on the quiet edge of the forest beyond Dumera’s center. She dreamed of waking up there in the mornings, to soft, dappled light and the scent of jivera blooms in her nostrils. She dreamed of opening her windows to the view of the forest, breathing in the crisp, morning air, and pouring herself hot tea to start her day.

  Stella sighed, a wisp of a longing smile on her face as she trudged on with her creaky cart. She’d never be able to afford a jivera tree of her own. For now, it was just a dream. Something she hoped might be hers one day.

  When she reached the port, she saw that the ship she sought was going through its pre-docking inspection, so it would be a little bit of a wait.

  She shifted from one foot to the other, highly aware that she was the only female in the port, especially when a small group of off-colony crew kept stealing glances her way. They were standing in a small circle, stretching their legs and getting fresh air, chatting and smoking what smelled ukkiji leaf, a familiar, heady smell.

  For the last seventeen years, she’d been on merchant ships. But her mother had been a tough, strong tornado of a woman. She’d vetted the ships thoroughly before taking work as an engineer on them, especially since she was toting her young daughter along for the ride. Her mother didn’t have any other choice. And when they’d found themselves on Haase’s ship when Stella had been fourteen…well, they’d stayed. They’d found a home there. Turnover was rare and Stella had come to trust the males she saw on a regular basis. They’d always looked out for her and her mother, especially if they docked on a colony for a brief reprieve.

  But Stella was always aware that human females were a prime target for traffickers. Her mother had instilled that in her from when she’d been a child and so Stella always had to be aware of who was around her. It was why she never left the bar without a taser, no matter how safe Dumera might seem.

  She stiffened when she heard heavy footsteps coming up behind her. But when she craned her neck, her whole body relaxed, a sudden surprised excitement winding up in her belly.

  “Tavak,” she murmured, a little confused, as the Keriv’i male stopped next to her. Standing side-by-side, he towered over her. She was tall for a human female, but Tavak had be close to seven feet, maybe even surpassing that.

  He was studying the crew of males, catching their lingering gazes on her, and he stared them down until they all turned away. Closing their circle again until their backs were to them.

  Stella watched the exchange, aware that Tavak’s arm was only an inch or two away from her own. He seemed to radiate heat on the cool morning and Stella almost shivered, squashing the impulse to move closer, especially since he’d told her not to touch him.

  “You should not come to the ports alone this early,” he said.

  Stella’s lips parted.

  She heard his words—heard his gruff concern in them.

  But she also heard his goddamn voice.

  He sounded like he’d just woken up, even though he looked cool and collected, as always. His usual frown in place. But his voice.

  Stella bit her lip. His voice flipped a switch inside her and immediately her belly was warming, which embarrassed her. But who could blame her when he sounded like that. All husky and rough and deep. In her fantasies, it was Tavak that was waking up beside her in her dream jivera tree home. And he was murmuring naughty things in her ear in that voice and she could feel it thread in her veins, heating her in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

  Stop, she screamed at herself, feeling her cheeks flush. Christ, woman, pull yourself together.

  Tavak’s eyes flashed to her.

  “Female,” he murmured, warning in his voice, his nostrils flaring subtly.

  Realization crashed down on her.

  God, he could smell her, which was even more mortifying. Humans had the dullest senses out of all the alien species she’d ever encountered. She would never forget one day, on Haase’s ship, when the captain had seemed bewildered because he could smell blood coming from her. He’d pestered her endlessly, concerned she was hurt, nearly dragging her to the medical bay, and she’d been close to tears when she’d had to admit it was her bleeding time.

  Haase could barely look her in the eye for a week after that.

  “Sorry,” she croaked before clearing her throat, hoping he’d ignore it, which any polite alien male would do. Desperate for something to say, something to distract from her treacherous, over-sensitive body, she asked, “Are you expecting a shipment too?”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the muscle tick in his jaw
, saw him reach up to run a hand down his face. A gesture that was strangely human.

  “Veki,” he said.

  Stella blinked. “Then why…”

  She trailed off, feeling that heat in her belly begin to wind its way to her chest, to her throat, which went a little tight with understanding.

  “Did you…did you come to help me?” she asked, her voice quiet.

  A grunt. Tavak shifted to his other foot, his arms coming up to cross over his wide chest. Briefly, his forearm brushed Stella’s shoulder and she was startled to realize his skin felt like suede. Soft and warm.

  Stella was at a loss for words but she did know that if Tavak had come to help her, she shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. It would only serve to make him uncomfortable.

  Still…she couldn’t help but beam up at him. And when he grumbled a bit and turned his attention to the ship that was finally coming into port after its inspection, Stella looked down to the ground, biting her lip to try to contain it.

  He’d woken up early to trek to port…all to help her because she’d mentioned she had a shipment coming in.

  Stella didn’t want to read too much into that. But it was difficult. After their exchange last night, she believed that Tavak was at least somewhat attracted to her. She’d gone to bed practically glowing from that realization.

  He thought to scare her off with his: You know I won’t be good for you, right?

  Well, to Stella’s ears, it was a challenge. And determination had swept through her because of it.

  Shortly after docking, the merchant came out to meet her. She’d encountered him before and the process went smoothly. All the barrels of wine were accounted for—all five of them—and the merchant left shortly, in a hurry to make his next drop on a nearby colony.

  Tavak had stayed quiet during the exchange but Stella had caught the merchant glancing over at him nervously every few minutes. Now, after he’d gone, Tavak studied Stella’s creaky cart with distaste before leveling her a long look, as if to say: are you serious?

  She shrugged, giving him a small smile.

  He shook his head a little, but before Stella stepped towards the pallet of wine barrels, he already had two in his arms. She blinked, watching the way the muscles in his arms flexed and shifted with the bulk.

  Most days, it took Stella embarrassingly long to load up the wine to her cart. By the time she found her voice, Tavak had already deposited two in there and was going for another two.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, rushing to his side.

  Tavak straightened, towering over her as he locked his gaze with hers, two of the barrels already in his grip. He raised a brow, almost arrogantly. And all he said was, “Female,” in that growly, deep voice of his.

  His tone was exasperated.

  As if she was insulting him.

  And hell, maybe she was. She didn’t know much about Keriv’i.

  The weight of the barrels didn’t bother him, that much was obvious. He carried them as if they weighed nothing and he had them loaded in her cart in the short span of twenty seconds.

  Stella blew out a breath.

  “Your brew tonight is on me,” she finally said, reaching for the cart’s handle. But then he was stepping in front of her and gripped it before she could. “I can do that.”

  Another grunt. “I know you can.”

  And then he was pulling the cart, heading out of port with sure strides. Yet, they were slow enough so that Stella could keep up with him.

  When they were on the main stretch of road that led back to Reji’s bar, Tavak surprised Stella by commenting, “You know my name.”

  Oh.

  Right.

  She’d said it when he first appeared because she’d been so surprised.

  Shortly after she’d gotten work at Reji’s bar, she’d asked Tavak his name…and he’d ignored her request, merely scowling at her question. So, Stella had needed to get creative. She’d asked around, fishing for his name, and she’d discovered it when she was chatting with a couple regulars who she knew also worked at the firestones lab.

  Still, Stella gave Tavak a sheepish smile, shooting a look over at him.

  “Utro and Ty’rria mentioned that they worked with you in the warehouse,” she explained, leaving out the fact that she’d specifically asked for his name when speaking with them.

  Another grunt.

  Stella bit her lip, hearing the creaking wheel on the cart groan even louder under the weight of the barrels. Tavak was used to his fancy, hovering cart, one she’d seen him with when he transported firestones to port. But this was the only one that Reji had left her and she didn’t have the credits to replace it. Or even grease the damn wheels.

  “Is that…is that okay?” she asked quietly. “That I know your name?”

  He made a sound in the back of his throat. Those silver and gold eyes came to her, and for a moment, he stopped in the middle of the road, turning to face her. Stella’s heart beat a little faster in her chest.

  He was so handsome. So darkly handsome with his swirling eyes and sharp yet wide features.

  “And if I said no?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side slightly. “What would you do?”

  She blinked quickly, fearing that Keriv’i were one of those races that kept their names close. She’d heard of cultures where only family knew one’s given name. Did he consider it disrespectful? Had she overstepped an invisible line in asking around for his name?

  “Well…” she started, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I—I suppose…I’ve heard of a Laoti healer who can wipe out certain memories.”

  His expression shifted. His eyes swirled faster.

  Then another sound rose, one she never thought she’d hear from him.

  A laugh.

  A rich, dark, deep laugh that seemed to pull from low in his chest, making goosebumps explode across her arms and made the back of her neck tingle pleasantly.

  Stella swallowed hard, feeling parts of her she’d never even known existed come to life at that laugh. She wondered if she could fall in love with someone as they laughed. Because she swore she was. Right then.

  It was beautiful and mesmerizing.

  And it was over entirely too soon.

  Once it faded from her ears, realization hit her. She swallowed, licking her dry lips.

  “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” she asked. “Oh my God, I really thought you were upset!”

  Tavak huffed out a sharp breath and the creaking wheel on the cart sounded again when he resumed down the road.

  Stella watched him—his backside specifically—still frozen in place, reeling at what his laugh had unearthed in her. Then she was jogging to catch up with him.

  “So you’re not upset that I know your name?” Stella asked, wanting to be sure she hadn’t crossed any boundaries when it came to him. Respect. Her mother had always taught her to respect others. Stella had always tried to.

  “Veki, vellia,” he told her. “Of course I am not.”

  Vellia?

  She wondered what that meant in Keriv’i.

  She’d already guessed that veki meant no. Pax she’d surmised meant yes. Kasuri meant something like good evening. And that was the extent of her Keriv’i language knowledge.

  Stella relaxed, and when she faced forward, she saw the bar looming up ahead. It was quiet that morning, as Dumera always was around that time. It was her favorite time of day, when everything was slow. And cool. She’d only been on Dumera for two months but she’d heard there was a cold season. Truthfully, she couldn’t wait for it.

  When they reached the bar, she turned to Tavak and said, “Thank you. You’ve saved me so much time. Seriously.”

  She might even have time for a nap later.

  Stella thought he would leave once they reached the door but he asked, “Where do you store them?”

  “Oh, you don’t have—”

  “Stella.”

  Why did hearin
g him say her name do such strange things to her body?

  Her lips parted and, sensing that he wouldn’t budge on this, she led him through the main floor of the bar, where all the chairs were stacked on the tables, leaving a clear path for the cart. Through the doors of the back room was where the dark cellar lay. There were no windows and the room was made of stone, not wood, to keep the barrels cool.

  Without a word, Tavak began to unload the barrels, placing them where she gestured. In no time at all, he was done and the cart was empty.

  She saw him glancing around at the tidy shelves she took great pride in, at the dark barrels that housed his beloved brew. She saw his gaze flicker to the flight of old stairs to the left, his lips turning downward subtly.

  “My room’s up there,” she found herself saying, leaning back against the stone wall, feeling the cold press of it in her back. Some hot afternoons, she’d come in here just to cool down.

  “You live here?” he asked, still frowning.

  “Yes,” she replied, giving him a small smile. “It used to be Reji’s old office but he never really used it so he said I could stay there. He has a jivera tree, I think, on the outskirts of town so he didn’t need the room.”

  Tavak’s gaze was…intense. Making her aware of how close they were to one another. If he took another step towards her, he would be close enough to touch.

  Silence stretched out between them. Stella licked her dry lips, suddenly full of fluttery nerves, and she held her breath when she saw his eyes flick towards them. They were alone. So very alone, when they usually weren’t.

  Not for the first time, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To feel those soft, full lips on her own, though she’d also be able to feel the bite of his sharp teeth. To feel the strength and heat and bulk of his body against her.

  Stella missed kissing. She missed it like crazy.

  Some insane, lonely part of her was tempted to ask Tavak to kiss her. Right there.

  But she had the strangest sense that if Tavak kissed her…she might crave his kiss for the rest of her life. And Tavak didn’t seem like the type of male who would give her forever.