Jus-teen hesitates, but she is heavily mated to Rok. She hears everything in our mindspace. “Another clan,” Jus-teen says quietly in Een-gleesh. “They’ve been scouting the perimeter.”
Eh-ree-kah stops breathing for one full second. I actively watch the soft pulse in her throat stall.
She turns to me and stabs a soft digit at the map. “How long?”
Jus-teen flashes the concept into the mindspace. “Time. Duration.”
I grip the edge of the stone table and force my stiff throat to form the harsh Drakav sounds, trusting the stone in her ear to whisper my words back to her.
“Many... sols.”
“Youknew?” Her delicate hands clench into tight fists and she looks sharply back at Jus-teen. “Tell him that is unacceptable. Tell him twenty unarmed humans are sleeping defenseless in this cave. He does not get to keep us blind while he prepares for an attack.”
Jus-teen projects the translation over the mindspace. Eh-ree-kah’s raw outrage rings loudly in my skull.
“Tell him it’s not his call to make!” she snaps furiously at Jus-teen.
Zan’s heavy upper lip curls, baring his thick fangs. A low, dangerous growl vibrates directly in his chest. “This is council,” he projects into the mindspace. “She speaks out of turn. She disrespects the dra-dam.”
A deafening roar rises at the base of my throat. Zan questions her right to stand here. He is questioningme.
My burning gaze slides to Zan. I throw a physically crushing wall of pure dominance into his mindspace, forceful enough to make every single being around us visibly flinch.
“She carried rock,” I project, the thought echoing like cracking stone. “She leads her soft people. She holds ground.”
The force of the projection rocks Zan backwards.
My burning gaze slides back to Eh-ree-kah and her furiously defiant expression. I step slightly to the side and gesture with one claw to the empty space directly beside me at the head of the stone table.
“Sit,” I say aloud.
She stares at me, incredible wide sandy eyes burning with defiance.
Then she steps right into the dangerous circle. She walks to the head of the stone table. She takes the place at my right side, exactly where she belongs.
Her sweet, storm-wind scent fills my senses, wiping the bloodlust of the other males out of the cavern air. My sharp fangs ache again, but this time, the ache in my jaw is not for tearing lifeblood.
“Alright,”Eh-ree-kah says flatly. Her delicate digits slowly trace the deep claw grooves of the western gorge. She looks to Jus-teen. “Ask him exactly what we’re looking at.”
I point a thick claw directly at Lucek’s borders and firmly project to Jus-teen to translate.
“The enemy numbers twelve,” Jus-teen relays softly across the stone to her. “They stalk the high rock. They carry no heavy bone-plates over their chests. No thick hides.”
Eh-ree-kah’s sharp mind catches the translation instantly.
“Ask him if they’re desperate enough to attack directly, or if they are testing the boundary lines,” she sharply tells Jus-teen. “What is their motivation?”
Jus-teen projects the sharp questions clearly into our minds. I stare at the soft side of Eh-ree-kah’s face. She is extremely tiny. Her soft mouth lacks fangs. How does a soft female understand the shape of a violent siege? My warriors look at the same grooves and only see where to thrust spears. She sees the terrible hunger.
“They want...” I project directly to Jus-teen. My chest tightens around my hammeringdra-kir. “What they do not possess.”
“Water,” Eh-ree-kah concludes immediately. “Shelter.”
“Us,” Jus-teen vocalizes.
The terrifying Een-gleesh word hangs heavily over the stone table.
Eh-ree-kah does not flinch. Her delicate human jaw sets into unyielding stone.
