SWNOVELS Ensnared: Chapter 18
Ketahn’s mandibles twitched. He opened his mouth as though to speak, then closed it and turned his face away from her.
“Ketahn?” Ivy leaned closer to him, trying to peer up at his face, willing his eyes back toward her. “Where did you find me?”
He released a heavy breath and hunched forward, bracing his hands on the joints of his legs. “In a dark place. A place where many althai dwell, and other vrix refuse to go.”
She furrowed her brow. “Althai?”
“Yes. They are…” He lifted a hand and waved it in the air vaguely. “They are not often seen, but sometimes heard. They cannot be touched, but they can be felt. Do you understand, Ivy?”
“Are you talking about…ghosts? Spirits? Things that are dead?”
“Some of them are dead. Or they are what is left of the dead. Like a… What is your word? Memory? Like a memory that is stuck in the real world. But others…they are…” He huffed and shook his head. “I do not know how to say it. They are like the trees, or the dirt, or the sky, but…the heart of those things.”
“And you found me in this place?”
“Yes. You slept there, closed in a gorahl.”
“What is that?”
“A gorahl is what some small animals wrap themselves in to change. But yours was not the same. It is the wrong word.” He brought two hands together, cupping one over the other, and swung the top one up like it was a lid. As he did so, he made a drawn-out hiss. “It opened, and you came out.”
Ivy gasped. “A cryochamber? You found me in a cryochamber?”
“Is that your word for it?”
“It’s a machine, a pod that put us in stasis, which is a deep sleep that kept us alive as we traveled through space.”
Ketahn’s mandibles twitched again, and he tilted his head. “You are saying words I do not understand, Ivy.”
She pointed at the sky. “Space, beyond the sky, in the stars. I came from there.”
He tilted his head back and looked up. “Even creatures with wings cannot go so high as to reach the stars, Ivy.”
“We were on a flying ship. A…a big metal…” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to explain it so you’d understand. The pod that you found me in, where was it?”
Ketahn returned his attention to her. “At the bottom of the dark hole, in a place with many chambers.”
Many chambers? Her heart quickened. “And were there others like me? Other humans?”
His mandibles fell. “Yes. But most were only bones.”
Most. Ivy held onto that word as sadness filled her. So many lives…
She shifted onto her knees and moved closer to him, ignoring the stone digging into her skin. “Most, but not all. There are still others, right? Humans that are sleeping?”
“I do not know, Ivy. I cannot be certain.”
“Can you take me there?”
His features darkened, mandibles rising and eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. “No.”
Ivy’s brow creased, and she frowned. “No? Why not?”
“It is not safe to go there, Ivy, and the spirits are the most small danger.”
“But you went there before, when you found me!”
“I fell.” He stretched an arm high over his head and then lowered his hand rapidly. “The xiskals that fell with me all died, and I lived only because the Eight protected me. I will not take you back to that place of death.”
She placed her hand on his forearm. “Ketahn, there could be other survivors. We can’t just leave them there.”
“No, Ivy,” he growled, snapping his mandibles. His forearm muscles flexed under her hand. “Put the others out of your mind. We will never return to that place.”
“Are you serious?” She yanked her hand back and pushed herself to her feet. “I can’t just put them out of my mind. You expect me to just…forget that my people could be down there? That there could be others like me still alive?”
Ketahn rose, too, in one smooth motion that unfurled his long legs and had him towering over her. “You are alive. That is enough. We cannot help any others.”
Ivy glared up at him. “Why? Just because you say so?”
“Because I care only for you!” He leaned toward her, the fine hairs on his hide bristling. “I will not allow you to hunger because I must give to others.”
“Then I will hunt for them!”
He snorted. “You could not find the ground if not for me.”
She gaped at him. “Did you… Are you insulting me?”
“I am speaking true. You could not live one day alone out here. What use would you be to others?”
Ivy thrust a finger at him, jabbing it against his hard chest. “You are such a…a…an asshole!” She spun and stalked away from him, toward the trees.
“You say I am what poop comes out of?” he growled from behind her.
“Yes! Stinky, yucky poop!”
Ketahn snarled, sounding a little closer. “Where are you going?”
She turned with her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I’m going to pee, and I’m mad at you so I am taking a moment to get away from you, spider man.”
“Not spider, not man. Vrix.” He halted a few feet away from her, hands curled into fists and muscles tense. “And always you must pee.”
“Well excuse me for being human and having natural bodily functions!” Ivy threw her hands in the air. “Maybe something will eat me and then you won’t have to worry about me anymore!”
“I will not let anything eat you, human,” he growled, drawing himself closer to loom over her again. “Do not speak of such things. I will be here to anger you for a very large time.”
“Fine!” She stepped closer to him, tilting her head farther back. “You better be!”
Ketahn chittered softly, the menace he’d exhibited a moment before vanishing as he offered her his version of a smile. “We are bound by a strong thread, Ivy.”
Ivy growled and scrubbed her hands down her face. “I can’t even with you. You make it so I don’t want to be mad, but I do want to be mad, and I should be mad, so I am mad.”
He tilted his head to the side. “You are a confusing female.”
“And you are a stubborn male.”
“I do not know this word.”
“Yeah, well…figure it out, spider man.” Ivy turned and strode into the foliage.
“Stay close,” Ketahn grumbled.
“I know!” She swept her gaze around her surroundings as she picked her way through the big leafy bushes and muttered, “I’m not stupid.”
She didn’t really have to pee, either, but she figured this was the only way to get Ketahn to allow her a respite. She just needed a moment of solitude. A moment to think, to ponder why Ketahn refused to take her to what she could only assume was a crash site given his mention that it had been at the bottom of a dark hole. What else could it be? And if she had survived, surely there had to be others still alive in stasis. Ketahn said it was dangerous, and she didn’t doubt that—but she swore there was something more behind his refusal.
After all, he’d found a way out with her in tow. That meant he could get back down there if he really wanted to.
A splash of yellow at the corner of her eye caught Ivy’s attention. She turned her head. There were several goldcrests growing on a few deeply shaded tree trunks only thirty feet away—that was deeper into the jungle, yes, but still close enough that she could call out for Ketahn if needed.
Well, if she was going to be out here pouting, she could at least be useful and gather some food while she was doing it. She moved toward the mushrooms, walking on the larger patches of soft, mossy ground. The moss was cool against her bare feet. When she reached the trees, she grasped the goldcrests at their bases, as close as possible to the tree trunks, and snapped them off one at a time.
As Ivy gathered the goldcrests on the crook of her arm, her thoughts returned to Ketahn like they often did. She understood his reluctance to rescue any other humans. It would be harder work for him to feed who knew how many extra mouths, especially when he was already bringing food to his people regularly. And he was right—she wasn’t skilled enough to be much use, not yet. Maybe not for a long, long time.
Still, it was just…wrong to leave the others there. Even if there was next to no chance of there being other survivors, shouldn’t they still look just in case? Shouldn’t they figure out something—anything? If Ivy was willing to learn and work, she was sure the other survivors would do the same. Plus, there were colonists aboard the Somnium who specialized in survival, agriculture, medicine, and all sorts of useful fields—and there were loads of supplies stowed all over the ship. It didn’t all have to fall upon Ketahn. And she would be able to translate.
She’d make him understand, no matter how long it took. She’d make him understand that going back was the right thing to do.
She plucked the last goldcrest off the trunk, brushing away the bits of bark and dirt clinging to its underside.
Heat flared along her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and her heart skipped a beat. She froze before ever adding the final goldcrest to the pile cradled on her arm.
There was something behind her. She knew it instinctively, with bone-deep certainty—and she knew it was not something friendly. Icy terror flooded her veins and knotted her stomach.
It’s…just Ketahn. Following too close to make sure I’m okay.
Ivy knew that wasn’t true long before she drew in a deep, shaky breath and forced her legs into motion, turning at a glacial speed to face the unknown horror.
The creature before her was no vrix—it wasn’t anything she’d yet seen. It was as big as a tiger, stood on four legs, and its lean, powerful muscles were evident beneath its brown and green scales. Its head, which reminded her of a velociraptor’s, was supported by a thick neck. Its black claws were each longer than her fingers, and its four cold, amber eyes were fixated upon her. A bright yellow and green frill ran along its spine from its skull, with leathery skin stretched between the thin, bony spikes.
As big as the beast was, it had come within fifteen feet of her without making a sound, and the tension in its muscles and focus in its gaze suggested it had been ready to pounce by the time she’d sensed its presence.
Oh, God. It is ready to pounce.
The beast remained silent apart from the sound of its huge claws digging into the ground just before it leapt. Ivy couldn’t say the same for herself.
She screamed. She screamed in terror and half-jumped, half-fell aside, her heart racing at a thousand miles an hour. The goldcrests spilled from her arms. She turned her head as she hit the ground, her fall cushioned by the moss and dead leaves on the jungle floor, just in time to see the huge creature pass over her. Time seemed to move so slowly that she swore she could’ve counted every individual scale on the beast’s underbelly in that fraction of a second.
The beast twisted in midair like a cat, swinging its hind legs around as its hurtling body crashed through the brush, snapping branches and violently rustling leaves. It had spun almost in a full circle by the time it slammed into the tree, its claws snagging the bark and ripping it to shreds.
Ivy sucked in another breath and scrambled to her feet to flee. “Keta—Ah!”
She was silenced by searing pain on her calf, so hot and piercing that it made her mind blank. Thrown off balance, she stumbled forward and dropped onto her hands and knees hard enough to make her teeth clack together.
She looked over her shoulder. The beast clawed at the ground like a bull preparing to charge. Its mouth opened wide to reveal dozens of pointed teeth and a bluish, tapered tongue, all of which dripped with what she hoped was saliva and not some sort of venom.
And at the bottom of her vision, she saw bright red blood welling from the cuts on the back of her calf, in sharp contrast to her pale skin. The burning sting of the wounds renewed itself with each throbbing beat of her heart.
Oh God! I only made that comment about being eaten because I was angry! It isn’t supposed to actually happen.
The undergrowth in front of Ivy went wild. Before she could even swing her head in that direction, a big, dark shape burst out of the thick foliage, darting straight over her head. The beast’s attention snapped to the newcomer an instant before the two collided.
As the creatures tumbled through the vegetation in a cacophony of abused branches and leaves, Ivy glimpsed long, spindly legs and white and purple markings on the new creature’s hide.
Ketahn.
He and the beast broke apart, but there was no lull in their battle.
Ivy shoved herself up again, bracing an arm on a nearby tree to steady herself as her wobbly legs threatened to give out. Her breaths were ragged, and her heart was rolling thunder in her chest as she beheld the struggle tearing across the jungle floor.
The beast was thrashing and snarling, chomping its jaws and slashing its claws and tail at Ketahn, moving with immense speed. But he was just as fast. Between the crashing vegetation and blazing speed, Ivy could barely follow what was happening. All she could tell for sure was that Ketahn seemed to be trying to subdue the beast, getting far too close to it to put her at ease.
Something thin and silvery glimmered in a shaft of sunlight as Ketahn lunged at the beast, which bent its neck around to bite at him. Those sharp teeth closed only inches from Ketahn’s throat. He hissed, the sound so deep and powerful that Ivy felt it in her bones, and swung a hand up. His claws sank into the underside of the creature’s jaw.
The beast made a pained growl and renewed its thrashing, but Ketahn’s other hands were moving, too fast for Ivy to comprehend—winding a silken thread around the creature’s muzzle. The beast spun away from him, tearing Ketahn’s claws free and shedding dark blood from the underside of its jaw. There was a thick bundle of silk binding its mouth shut now.
The beast shook its head wildly from side to side. Ketahn shifted his hold on the silk thread, using his weight to yank the beast’s head down. He was upon it even as its chin struck the ground, using his arms and legs to divert and restrain its thrashing limbs. Ivy only realized then that there was blood on Ketahn’s hide—and she had no idea if it belonged to him or the beast.
Snarling and snorting, the creature flailed. Ketahn’s body was jostled like a rider trying to hang on to a bucking horse. It seemed even his strength could not match the beast’s desperation to be free.
Ivy’s nails scraped bark as her knees buckled. She slid to the ground, coming down on her backside. Why was she just watching? Why wasn’t she helping him?
What can I possibly do?
Ketahn roared. She had no better word to describe it, though the layered sound wasn’t like any roar she’d ever heard apart from in its ferocity and dominance. His hands worked furiously, wrapping that deceptively strong silk thread around the beast’s legs and pulling it taut. The tension forced the creature’s head back, exposing its neck.
Ketahn’s head darted down. His mandibles clamped shut on the beast’s throat. The beast growled and huffed, kicking and thrashing all the harder.
Ketahn whipped his head back.
The wet sound of tearing flesh was so brief compared to all the other sounds in the jungle at that moment, but it would stick with Ivy for a long, long time. Ketahn’s mandibles ripped free, spraying blood into the air. A big, tattered chunk of the beast’s throat was clutched between them. Ketahn snapped his head aside and released the chunk, tossing it into the vegetation nearby.
With a final jerk, the beast stilled.
Ivy stared at Ketahn. Despite the jungle’s heat and humidity, she was cold and shivering. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around her chest. It was only then that she realized her towel had fallen and was lying on the ground beneath her, stained with blood.
Ketahn released his hold on the beast, letting its limp body fall. A troubled rumble sounded in his chest. He was in front of Ivy in a few quick strides, stretching his front legs to either side of her to sink down low.
All four of his arms banded around her, clutching her to his hard chest as he rose. Even his claspers—usually tucked securely against his pelvis—sought her out, lightly brushing her skin as though every part of him was seeking confirmation that she was here, that she was alive. His breath was harsh and heavy as he buried his face in her hair.
“Ivy,” he rasped.
Ivy slipped her arms around his neck and held onto him as his warmth surrounded her, pushing away the chill. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
His embrace strengthened, and the pounding of his hearts did not ease. She focused on their rapid, steady rhythm, finding only comfort in it when she’d once thought it so strange. Between that and his heat, she could almost forget what had just happened, could almost ignore that throbbing burning in her leg.
Ketahn lifted his head and slid a hand up to smooth it over her tousled hair. He rumbled her name again and inhaled deeply. His hand stilled abruptly, and his body stiffened.
“That scent…” He shifted his front legs, crossed them beneath her, and sat her upon them.
Ivy winced. Just that bit of movement—just her own weight on her backside—was enough to make her aware of the dull aches permeating her body. Of course, none of those aches compared to the pain on her calf.
With a low, unhappy trill, Ketahn released his embrace, steadying Ivy with a pair of hands on her shoulders as he raked his gaze over her body. She didn’t even care that she was naked; she just wanted his arms around her again.
“No,” Ketahn whispered, dropping his body down again to take careful hold of her left ankle.
Ivy glanced down to see blood and dirt smeared all over her lower leg and foot. Ketahn lifted her leg gently and bent to inspect her wounds.
“You are not okay,” he said, voice raw. “This is not okay.”
Before Ivy could respond, he swept her into his arms, this time cradling her against his chest. He had two arms under her back, one curled across her ass and thighs for support, and a hand around her ankle, keeping her wounded leg elevated so nothing touched the still-bleeding cuts. His long, smooth stride didn’t jostle her in the slightest as he carried her back to the stream.
He sat her gently on a patch of soft moss growing atop a boulder at the water’s edge. As he drew back, his narrowed eyes met hers. “No more going alone. You only pee with me.”
“What?”
“Ivy stay with Ketahn,” he said, hissing on the s just like he used to.
Oh, he’s mad.
“Ketahn, I am not peeing with you watching,” Ivy said, settling her hands in her lap.
“Then you will not pee,” he growled.
“You are being completely unreasonable!”
“I do not know what that means”—he leaned over Ivy, bracing his arms to either side of her and placing his face within an inch of hers, mandibles wide—“but it is better than you being dead!”
“This is the first time this has happened! I wasn’t even peeing anyway. I was just…just trying to do something useful. I’m sorry. I should have been paying more attention.”
“So I will watch for you. I will remain with you.” Ketahn tipped his forehead against hers, voice falling low. “I do not want you to hurt. It is not useful. It is not good.”
Ivy frowned. His voice was rough, almost pained, and it flowed straight into her heart, piercing it with a pang of sorrow and filling it with warmth. It didn’t matter how different they were, she was sure of one thing—Ketahn cared about her.
Tears stung her eyes. She closed them, reached up to cup his jaw, and stroked it with her thumb. “I know. I’m sorry. I…hate that I’m such a burden to you. That I’m so weak.”
“No,” he said firmly. He withdrew from her and took her face between his upper palms. His many violet eyes met hers. “Not weak. Not a burden. It is my…pride to give for you. I said words that were untrue.”
“You didn’t, though. All this…I’m not good at it, Ketahn, and I would have died a long time ago on my own. I would have died today if you hadn’t been there to save me.”
Something rattled in his chest, the sound slipping into his voice when he spoke. “When I was small, my mother said many times that I must learn to…rasyth before I could weave.”
That word, syth, was what he called the silk threads he made, and sythi was what he called the web holding up his nest. But she wasn’t sure what this version meant.
Apparently, her confusion was plain upon her face, because he said, “Rasyth is to make a web. To stretch the threads and bind them. It is simple, but…doing it well is not easy. Making it strong is not easy. Making it…beautiful is not easy.”
“You mean like the baskets I make.”
He chittered gently. “They are not good, but each is better. You will get better.”
Ivy’s lips curled into a small smile.
His eyes softened, and he stroked his claws through her hair, but stilled when his gaze shifted to his hands. He released another unhappy trill. Lifting his hands away, he withdrew from her. Ivy only then noticed the dark blood glistening on his hands, mandibles, face, and chest, and she knew some of it was undoubtedly on her now, too. But her only concern was for him.
Ketahn turned away and strode into the stream, submerging himself to his shoulders. He leaned forward, splashing water on his face and scrubbing his mandibles and hide.
There was no trace of blood left upon him when he faced Ivy again, just water running down his sculpted hide in rivulets. She swept her eyes over him, seeking signs of injury, but found none.
Had he really fought that thing—that…that velocitiger—without suffering even a single scratch?
He moved to the streambank, retrieved his bag from the place he’d set it earlier, and returned to Ivy. Climbing onto the rock, he set the bag beside her, opened it, and removed a scrap of silk cloth from within. He dunked it into the water, rinsing it thoroughly before again taking hold of Ivy’s ankle. At his gentle guidance, she shifted to rest her weight on her hip, turning her leg so her wounded calf was facing outward.
Ketahn’s big hands worked quickly and decisively, using the cloth to clean away the dirt and blood from around the cuts. The stinging, burning sensation returned tenfold, strong enough to make Ivy hiss and reflexively try to tug her leg from his grasp. He held it firm, allowing her no escape.
Fresh crimson welled from the wounds, mixing with the water to trickle down her skin.
“Not deep,” he said, setting the cloth aside. Turning his hand, he lightly stroked the back of his finger along her shin, sending a thrill through her and briefly overpowering the burn of her wound. “Such soft skin.”
As he spoke, his rear legs were in motion, bending sharply toward the spinnerets at the end of his hindquarters. When he swept one of those legs forward, there was a loose bundle of sticky silk thread gathered at its tip, which he passed to one of his hands.
“I was not a warrior or a hunter,” he said as he rolled the webbing into a small, puffy wad. “I was a weaver, as was my mother. She taught me for many years. I was not good when I began. I was very good when I stopped.”
“A weaver?” Ivy had assumed spinning webs was instinctive for him, just as it was for spiders back on Earth. But then, the cloth he had on hand all seemed to be woven of silk, so being a vrix weaver clearly went beyond simply crafting webs.
Was that why his touch was so gentle and precise?
“Why did you stop?” she asked.
“The queen made battle with Kaldarak. With other vrix.” Carefully, he separated the wad into pieces, laying the first over the uppermost cut on her leg and pressing it into the open wound.
Ivy winced at the surge of pain. He placed one of his hands on her thigh, putting just enough pressure on it to keep her leg still. It was only then that she realized what he was doing with the webbing.
“Wait! Are you…are you putting webs inside me?”
“It will bind the cuts. The hurt will go away fast.” Ketahn tilted his head, and his mandibles twitched uncertainly. “Do humans just…leave wounds to bleed until they stop?”
“No, of course not. We treat wounds and use medicine. We just…” She pulled her lips in as she flicked her gaze down to the webbing in her leg. It already felt as though it was dulling the sting. Still, just the thought of webs being put inside her flesh made Ivy shudder. “On Earth, we have creatures that are called spiders. They…well, they look kind of like you, just without…well, without the more human-like parts, and they are much, much smaller, and they also make silk and webs. Most of the time, humans are…scared of them.”
“Why do you fear them?”
“Because they…look scary?” After spending time with Ketahn, after getting to know him, that answer sounded ridiculous.
Ketahn stared at her thoughtfully. “Do you fear me, Ivy?”
She shook her head. “No. I did at first, but not anymore.”
He raised the hand in which he held the wadded silk. “Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
The rumble in his chest wasn’t quite a purr, but something about it seemed…content. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze and moved on to the next cut, repeating the process with the silk.
Though she expected it this time, the pain was just as intense. Her nose scrunched, and she hissed through her teeth. Leaning back, she braced her hands behind her and curled her fingers, scraping her nails over the mossy stone. She didn’t miss how Ketahn’s gaze flicked over her naked body.
“What happened?” she asked, watching his hands work. “After the queen made battle?”
“I was sent to fight. To hunt. And I was like you, Ivy. I did not know. I was grown, and I had to take lessons to hunt, to live in the jungle, to fight. I almost died every day.” Ketahn moved on to the next cut to repeat the process. “But I wanted to live. So I learned. Because of the danger, I learned fast. And soon, I was good at it. Better than good.
“You have been in the jungle only one moon cycle, Ivy. You are learning fast, too, because you must. It took me longer than this to be good.” His eyes met hers. “It will take you a little longer, too.”
With her brows creased and lips pressed together, Ivy stared into his eyes. She knew what he was doing, knew what he was saying, and the tears that sprang into her eyes had nothing to do with the ache permeating her leg. She nodded curtly.
Once he’d treated her cuts, he dragged his bag closer and rummaged through it until he found another piece of cloth, this one dry and clean. He tore it into a few long strips, which he used to snugly wrap her wounds, tying the ends off at her shin.
Ivy eased off her hip, taking care not to allow her newly wrapped calf to settle on the ground. “Thank you.”
Ketahn plucked the wet cloth off the rock, rinsed it out in the stream, and turned back toward Ivy, shifting closer. She remained silent as he touched the cool cloth to her face and wiped away the dirt, sweat, and blood from her skin. His strokes were gentle and attentive, smoothing over her every facial feature with something akin to adoration.
As the cloth reached her chin, he lifted two of his lower hands to brush her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. One of those hands cupped the back of her head. He guided her to tilt her chin up and her head aside as he ran the cloth along her neck down to the hollow of her throat.
Ivy’s eyes fluttered shut. Despite her lingering pain, Ketahn’s ministrations were soothing. No one had ever touched her this way, had ever tended her this way; no one had ever taken her care into their hands without want for anything in return. It was a luxury she’d never known, not even in a world full of luxuries like Earth.
Ketahn trailed the cloth back up and then reached around to clean the back of her neck. He withdrew it from her briefly, and she heard a small splash and some swishing in the water. Then the cloth was on the left side of her neck, running down to her shoulder. One of his hands circled her left wrist and lifted her arm so the cloth could continue all the way down to her fingers.
He cleaned her other arm the same way, though his movements seemed a little slower—almost exploratory.
The cloth lifted away and splashed in the water again. When it returned, it was at her collarbone. Ketahn swept it slowly across her chest, leaving droplets of water to trickle over her skin, and then down one of her breasts, grazing her nipple. The sensation sent an electric current through her that coalesced in her core.
Ivy’s breath hitched, and she flinched back, her eyes snapping open. Her nipples hardened, aching for more.
Ketahn withdrew the cloth. His gaze was focused upon her breasts, which only seemed to strengthen the needy thrum between her thighs. “Did I hurt you?”
A different kind of heat swept over her, making her skin warm and her cheeks flush. Self-consciously, she banded an arm over her breasts and glanced away. “No. You didn’t hurt me, Ketahn.”
He curled a finger under her chin and turned her face back toward him. Their eyes locked; the intensity in his poured more fuel onto the fire inside her.
“Speak true, Ivy,” Ketahn said. “You move away from my touch like it hurts.”
Ivy wrapped her fingers around his wrist and guided his hand away. “It doesn’t hurt. It…It…” She groaned and covered her face with her palm.
“Ivy?”
“It feels good,” she said, the words coming out in a rush. “It feels too good.”
Ketahn caught her wrist and gently tugged her hand down. His head was tilted as he regarded her, his mandibles twitching faintly. “Help me understand.”
“Oh, my…” Her skin heated further. “Do…do female vrix have breasts?”
“Is that the word for them?”
Looks like it’s time for human anatomy lesson two.
Ivy lowered her arm slightly and turned her palm up beneath her breasts. “Yes. These are breasts. And these are nipples.”
“Vrix females do not have these parts. Why do they sometimes harden?”
“They change when we’re cold or when we’re…aroused.”
He dipped his head to study her breast more closely—closely enough for her to feel his warm breath upon her skin. “What does that word mean?”
It took everything within Ivy to remain still, to not lean forward, press her breast against his face, and see what he would do. Just that teasing breath of his flooded her core with delicious heat.
“I…I don’t know how else to say it,” she said softly. “Arousal, desire, pleasure, lust are all words you don’t know. It’s when…when you feel really good. It would be like…oh God, I can’t believe I’m going to say this. It would be what you feel when someone touches your… zirkita. Your cock.”
Ketahn reeled back, mandibles pulsing as though they were trying to open and close at the same time. His eyes dipped to her breasts, met her gaze, and then dropped toward his slit before settling once again on her breasts. “That is what they are for? To feel good and ready you for mating?”
I can’t believe I am having this conversation with him.
At least it’s distracting me from the pain in my leg.
“Well, yes and no. Female humans make food in our breasts when we have babies. Hatchlings? But they can also be touched to bring females pleasure. To make us ready for sex. Mating. Our skin is very…sensitive, but more so on our breasts and our”—she motioned to between her legs—“our pussies.”
The claspers at the sides of his slit fidgeted, straining forward, straining toward her—though they kept drawing back in against his pelvis, where there was a very distinct bulge. He averted his gaze. There was a light in his eyes that spoke of deep, heavy thoughts. Ivy longed to know what was happening inside his mind, but something told her that he wouldn’t be able to express it in a way she’d understand—if he chose to express it at all.
When he eventually turned his face back toward her, he seemed on the verge of speaking, but his attention abruptly shifted skyward, and his mandibles sagged. They fell even farther when he glanced at her bandaged leg again.
“We have stayed too long. Much longer, and your skin will become red again, and you will have more hurt,” Ketahn said, and Ivy knew he was referring to the sun burn she’d suffered a couple weeks ago.
He pulled his bag closer with one hand as he wrung out the cloth with two others, folding it quickly and dropping it inside. After tying the bag closed, he swung it onto his back and gathered Ivy, lifting her off the rock with great care and cradling her in his arms. When her breasts pressed against his plated chest, he looked down and stared at them. They were soft against hard, light against dark. It was…erotic.
“I will take you to the den,” he said thickly as he strode to the rock where she’d laid out her clothes, snatching them up with the claws of a leg and passing them to her. “Then I must return for the unac. We will not let the meat go to waste.”
Ivy clutched her clothes with one arm and settled her palm against his chest. “I’m sorry. Sorry I yelled at you and called you spider man.”
His eyes narrowed, and his mandibles rose. “I know.”
Ivy smirked and shook her head.
Arrogant jerk.