“Who are you?!” he growls, still holding my female in his arms.
“Aloryk, don’t!” I grit my teeth against her panicked words.
Why is this male still touching what is mine?
I press the tip of my blade firmer into his flesh, giving a warning growl.
It is then that I feel the cold of a well-sharpened spear-tip thrust beneath my own chin. “You will drop your blade.” I had been so single-minded when seeing some other male holdingmy Polly, I had not even considered that anything else was happening in this world - I had not considered there were other males here.
My tail flicks as I consider this other male’s threat.
“Drop the blade,” the male repeats before issuing a command to his fellow tribesmale, “release the female.”
His brother does as is asked, but I do not. I exhale in relief to see my Polly scramble out of the male’s hold, and expect her to stand back, out of harm’s reach. The position I am in now is compromising, but I am trained in maneuvers that would turn the situation to my advantage. I am confident that even with broken wings, I could gain the upper hand against these two who must have barely seen three full seasons of being Protectors.
And, despite my days of journeying here with nothing but the thought of reaching my mate, my muscles are thrumming with a deadly energy. I do not just wish to best these males who think they can keep my Polly from me, I want to see blood.
I will start with the one who held her captive.
I begin to snarl at the thought, but the sound is swallowed down when instead of stepping away and leaving me to dispatch these greenmales, my Polly shoves her way in front of me. “Everyone lower their weapons,” she says, her body jerking in a very strange way.
“He is an intruder here to steal females!” the male beneath my blade objects as he glares up at me. I get the feeling he is not very bright.
“I do not want to steal females. I am here for my mate.”
The spearhead beneath my chin presses tightly to my throat. “I see no heart-stars,” the male grunts before turning to my Polly. “Who is this male to you?”
“He’s-…” my female’s words break off and I do not understand the glassiness in her eyes.He is my mate, I will her to admit - will her to declare it for all to hear.
Will her to claim me.
“He’s-…”
Her body jerks strangely again and suddenly a bright light shoots out from where she had apparently been holding onto it with both arms. It takes my mind a moment or two to realize that the light had been a Goddess, and that it flew quickly back to the safety of the temple just now.
I do not care about Goddesses in this moment however. How can I when my mate is looking at melike that?
“Polly?” I ask, completely consumed by the look of hurt in her eyes. But she is directing thatat me. What has happened?
I do not even feel my grip on my blade loosen.
I barely register the pain when my arms are grabbed and twisted behind my back. The only thing I can focus on is that expression on my female’s face as I’m forcibly pushed to the ground.
Chapter 33 - Polly
Aloryk is here.
He’shere.
My heart hasn’t stopped thumping in my chest like a bass drum on double-time since he came barreling back into my life.
And Zarriko’s tribe are pissed. Like, royally pissed.
First of all, Tessa and I got a mild scolding for touching the spinning communicator ball - which, considering they think that thing is a Goddess, I can understand. Tessa tried to explain that it’s not what they think it is, but honestly, I think that’s a lost cause where the Trixikka are concerned. It’s been a Goddess all their lives, and all their father’s lives, and all their father’s, father’s lives too, going back generations. That kind of belief is so ingrained into a culture, you can’t possibly overturn it with just words. And honestly? It got to a point where had we tried to continue to invalidate their beliefs, we would have stepped over that line into becoming disrespectful. And neither of us wanted to come across as the non-native species trying to tell the Trixikka that we know better.
Anyway, for now, Tessa and I are very much not allowed near that temple and I’m starting to think that maybe I misheard what that floating ball had said. They couldn’t have said my friend’s name, right? It could be a different Niska. And even if it wasmyNiska, there’s not much I can do about it except pray that she’s as safe as she can be.
And secondly, they’re pissed about Aloryk - of course they are. High Spear Zarriko had asked me that damn question again; ‘is he your mate?’ And yet again, I couldn’t answer it. I’d opened my mouth to speak the words, only for a huge wad of doubt to clog them all up.
