Sarven snorts.
“Why? Why would I let you scrape away rotten meat when I have larger claws and thicker skin?” He looks at me like I’ve suggested he let me fight a sand-serpent alone. “I will clean the tools. And remove the waste. And carry the heavy baskets.”
He radiates a smug sense of superiority over the entire male population of Earth.
“I am better than a huz-bahnd,” he finishes. “I am Sarven.”
I stare at him, feeling my heart do a traitorous, gooey melt in my chest. I lean forward and bump my forehead against his.
“Deal,” I say, both aloud and in his mind. “You’re definitely better.”
Epilogue 2
I WILL WASH THE BOWLS. THEN I WILL HUNT THE ENEMY.
SARVEN
Mih-kay-lah is asleep.
She is buried so deep in the furs I gathered that I can only see the top of her dark hair. Her mind is quiet, a soft, dreaming hum against my own. She is safe.
But the mountain is not.
I slide carefully from the warmth of the nest. Mih-kay-lah shifts, making a small sound of protest, but I send a wave ofwarm-safe-sleepthrough the mindspace, and she settles again.
I rise, foregoing the loincloth, and step out of the alcove into the cool tunnel air.
I am not the only one awake.
Down the corridor, near the junction that leads back to the main cavern, a shadow detaches itself from the wall.
It is Kol.
The dra-dam leans against the stone, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are unblinking, fixed on the darkness leading back down toward the heart-cavern.
“You felt the eyes upon us,” Kol’s projection rumbles in the mindspace.
“Mih-kay-lah felt him,” I correct, stopping beside him. “In the light shaft. A face. I caught only the scent of wrongness. Dismissed it when we found the poison. I was wrong. She saw the intruder clearly.”
Kol tilts his head slowly. He holds out his claw. In his palm sits a small, jagged object. It looks like stone, but as I lean closer, I catch the scent.
Old blood. Stale. Enemy.
“She was right,” Kol says. “Haroth found this near the upper ventilation shaft while you were deep in the stone. It is a totem. Lucek’s clan.”
My lip curls back from my fangs as a growl vibrates in my chest. “They were watching us. While we worked. While she fell.”
“They were scouting,” Kol corrects. “Checking our strength. Checking our water.”
He closes his fist over the totem, grinding it to dust.
“The water is flowing now,” I say. “Mih-kay-lah fixed it. But the filter is fragile. And something sleeps within the mountain. If they come back… if they break the stones…”
“Then we die,” Kol finishes. “Or we fight.”
He turns his gaze to me. His glow is dim, controlled, but beneath it lies the same violence that lives in all of us.
“You are mated now, Sarven. Your duty is to her.”
