Page 34 of Feast

She let go a shivering sigh and nodded.

“What do you want to know?”

“Many things,” the ukkur growled. “But first and foremost I want to know two things.”

Ika smudged away her tears and awaited his questions.

“What is that hole between your legs, and what does it do?”

CHAPTER 12

Outside, the sun was getting low in the sky. Another hour, and the clouds would be blazing with a thousand fiery colors of sunset. Meanwhile, inside the warm hollow of the cave, another fire was blazing, and Muk was putting it to good use preparing the evening meal.

The air filled with the sounds and smells of cooking food. In a massive steel pan, strips of krelk bacon sizzled in their own fat, which Muk would use shortly to fry up a few dozen gollan bird eggs. The savory aroma of the cooking meat mingled with the sweeter scents of the honey laced porridge that was bubbling lazily in a pot and the ksh cakes that were cooking on a flat iron skillet.

It was Muk’s favorite time of day.

It wasn’t just the eating that he enjoyed, although he did enjoy that a lot. But the cooking was even more enjoyable.

After the other ukkur freed him from the nith-operated ksh farm where he had been a slave, they had given Muk the chore of cooking the daily meal, mainly because none of them particularly cared to do it. But it soon became clear that Muk had a special talent for it.

That made Muk feel good. He liked being of use. He had a skill, and he was an asset to the group.

But tonight, Muk was pulling out all the stops. He was preparing the very best meal that he could because tonight they had a very special guest.

Ika.

Ever since the strange creature had come into their possession that morning, Muk had hardly taken his eyes off her. She stirred feelings in Muk’s body that he didn’t understand. Feelings that were both painful and pleasant at the same time.

She made his balls throb with a heavy ache, and his stick was so swollen with arousal that he had been forced to tuck it up beneath his belt to keep it from jutting through the strips of fur that formed his kilt.

Muk stared at her across the wavering heat of the fire. She was huddled by the wall, a leather leash tied around her delicate throat and connected to a stone pillar that was part of the cave’s natural architecture.

Thusar, the pack leader, had questioned Ika for the better part of the day, asking about her origins, about Rolf, and most of all about that hole between her legs. The interrogation and not uncovered much. At first, Thusar had thought Ika was withholding information, but it gradually became clear that she was not.

She knew as little about herself as the ukkur did.

Seeing Ika leashed like an animal panged Muk’s heart, but he understood that it was a necessary precaution. She had tried to run away once, and that simply could not be allowed. Now that they had this lovely creature in their possession, they could never let her go. Never.

Muk let his eyes wander down Ika’s naked body.

She had pulled her long mane over her shoulders to cover her chest bumps, and her hips were turned to conceal that enticing hole between her legs. But no matter how she tried, she could not conceal all of those splendid curves that sent the blood rushing between Muk’s legs until he felt lightheaded.

Gods, she made him so hard it fucking hurt.

Muk wasn’t even sure what it meant that Ika was a she. He only knew that she was not an it, not some mindless animal. She clearly had a sharp and sometimes devious intellect. Nor was she a he, like Muk and his pack brethren. There was a delicacy to her, a fragility to the way she had been put together.

And of course, there was that hole between her legs.

Ika was a she.

Muk turned his attention back to his cooking before he burnt something by accident.

This meal needed to be perfect.

Perfect for his Ika.

Once the food was all ready, Muk doled out big portions for his pack brethren. Then he set to work carefully preparing a nice platter for Ika. Several rashers of crispy krelk bacon. A couple of fried gollan eggs, vibrant yellow in the center. A stack of piping hot ksh cakes drizzled with honey. And last, a bowl of steam-curling porridge into which Muk had stirred creamy ksh, sweet honey, and tart darkberry jam.