She wants me to hide my strength?
“I am the dra-dam,” I tell her gently. “Why would I hide it? It proves I am strong.”
Eh-ree-kah buries her face in her hands, groaning.
“Kol,” she projects. “Human women do not want to see your... your parts while we are trying to plan a rescue mission. It’s...distracting.”
My brow furrows. If a male hides his strength, another male will challenge him.
But the distress radiating from her is real. She is genuinely upset.
“For you, my mate,” I project, sighing heavily. “If my body is too terrifying for the other females, I will sit down during the council so it is less obvious.”
“No,” she says, dropping her hands from her face. She looks around the alcove with alarming determination. “I have a better idea.”
She scrambles off the sleeping shelf, standing bare in the center of the alcove. My eyes immediately drop to the flare of her hips, the soft curve of her rear, the dark mane between her thighs. The beast in my blood roars, demanding that I throw her over my shoulder and take her back to the furs.
But she is digging through the small pile of her discarded coverings.
She pulls out the thick leg coverings she had been wearing last sol. They are covered in dust and stained with lifeblood.
Then, she grabs my spare bone-knife from the rock shelf.
I stiffen. “Eh-ree-kah. That edge is incredibly sharp. Be careful.”
She ignores me. She lays the fabric flat on the stone floor, grips the knife tightly, and begins hacking violently at it.
I stare at her in absolute disbelief.
She is destroying her own hide coverings. It is one of her few possessions. The only layer protecting her skin from the harsh elements.
“What are you doing?” I watch her saw through the fabric at the knees.
“I’m solving a problem,” she mutters. The bone-knife slips, cleanly slicing through the thick seam. “There. Honestly, I’ve been dying to make these into shorts anyway. It’s way too hot for full pants.”
She drops the knife. She picks up the top half of the...pants and pulls them on over her bare hips. They sit low on her waist, exposing the long, pale length of her legs.
It is an incredible visual. I swallow heavily.
But she is not done. She retrieves the bone-knife, picks up the two discarded tubes of fabric, slices them open along the seam, and lays them flat. Now it is two wide panels of hide.
She walks over to me, holding the panels in her hands, her face serious.
“Stand up,” she commands.
I narrow my eyes. “I will not.”
“Kol. Stand up.” The mental spike of her stubbornness hits me like a rock. “Please.”
I let out a low, rumbling growl of extreme displeasure, but I obey. I push myself off the shelf, towering over her.
Eh-ree-kah steps directly into my space. She drops to her knees.
My heart stops.
She is kneeling directly in front of my “double dicks”. Her face is inches from my heavy, twitching shafts. They immediately swell, ready once more.
If she touches me with her mouth right now, the council will wait three more solmarks.
