Orik smothers a laugh.His has more pleasure bumps.
“What do you need to know to decide?” Yva presses. “Or are you sitting next to the man you want to choose? The one who lies down like a mate.”
Orik stands before I can stop him. His fingers splay. “And what of it? Did the unmated men of your tribe not take pleasure with each other? Or did they channel their frustration into fighting?”
Yva snarls, baring his teeth as the markings on his skin begin to glow. “Your tribe is little more than cave dwelling wool pickers.”
Orik’s markings glow and sparks dance across his fingertips. “Our blankets are always soft. No one can sleep with a blade against their skin.”
I’m sure the insults are losing some of their edge in the translation. Then I realize they are speaking the insults, so I can hear.
“My mother is a leader.” Yva taps his chest.
“And you are banished, brother. The same as the rest of us.” They are flinching, and the slight movements of their bodies giveaway that something else is going on besides throwing insults.
“What’s going on?” Is this a normal mating display? Edilk and Sunif aren't stopping it.
Sabine slides closer. “They’re jamming each other’s signals, trying to be the first one to strike.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “To show off.”
I glance at Hrad and Vari. Both are watching, but neither are moving. Do they think my choice is between Orik and Yva? I could drag this on, but I don’t want them fighting. Nor do I want to wait until we cross the ocean. I don’t want to imagine being stuck on the boat with warriors desperate to prove they are my ideal mate, and I’m sure that even if I said I was going to wait, that wouldn’t stop them from showing off.
Lightning arcs from Yva, and Orik turns to take the strike on his shoulder instead of his chest. Yva jerks his chin in my direction, as though expecting me to be impressed. “Who is next?”
I stand. “No one.”
His chest puffs, thinking that he has won.
I turn to Orik and place my hand on his arm, ignoring Yva. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. It’s fine.” His shirt is scorched, and his skin must be burned.
I don’t believe him, but in front of Yva there is no other answer that he’ll give.
“You shouldn’t touch another male after choosing your mate,” Yva says.
I turn and level a glare at him. “I did not choose you. Fighting is not the way to my heart. And if you’d listened to a word I said this afternoon, you’d have understood that. While I appreciate the hook that you carved. All you promised was your tribe’s wealth, and there is no tribe here except us.” I draw in a breath and look at Edilk to translate.
He takes a moment before doing so and it is much shorter than what I said, and far more diplomatic.
Yva’s lip curls. “You choose Orik?”
I shake my head. “I choose Vari.”
Vari’s head whips up and he stares at me. For an awful moment, I’m sure he’s going to refuse.
14
VARI
She said my name.
Even I though I’m not wearing a whisperer, I understand the rest of her words. The stares I receive from my brothers confirm it. She’s chosen me.
I want to be wrong. We discussed it, and I thought she’d agreed to choose Orik. He’s the one who needs someone. Not me.
