The waterfall was no less impressive during the day, especially from the edge of the pool at its base. The mist in the air made the place seem like a mysterious land filled with hidden spirits—which it might have been, for all Ketahn knew—and the rainbow shimmering in the morning light overhead was like the bridge connecting this spirit realm to the real world. The leaves and flowers were vibrant, their colors more contrasted in the sunlight. In this moment more than ever the Tangle felt alive.

He stilled his hands, lowering the net he was mending.

Those times he’d been here alone, when he’d come to think, he’d sometimes wondered about the waterfall—about its size, its power, its…tirelessness. Vrix had wrought impressive things in Takarahl, but this waterfall was so much more. If the Eight truly walked in the forms of vrix, how immense were they to have crafted this waterfall? To have raised this jungle?

He turned his head to glance at Ivy, who was sitting on the rock beside him, weaving suncrest flowers into a delicate chain.

How huge and powerful were the Eight to have plucked Ivy’s people from the stars?

Something sank inside him, and he shifted his gaze to look past her—to look in the direction of the pit. She’d asked him to take her there so many times, and he’d always denied her. As the days had passed, she’d asked less and less, and each time, her hopefulness had been a little duller…and her reactions to his refusal, though less passionate, had troubled him more and more.

Had the Eight truly brought Ivy to the Tangle? Had they taken everything from her just so she could be Ketahn’s? Or…had they merely guided him to her, to a female in need of a strong male to protect her, provide for her, and pleasure her?

She was his; he had no doubt of that and never would. And though how didn’t matter, he couldn’t help wondering at the forces that had brought them together. He could not help wondering whether he was right in refusing to bring her to see the place where he’d found her.

He looked down at the net draped over his forelegs and found himself suddenly without the will to continue his work.

Ketahn had chosen to live outside of Takarahl, to sever many of his ties to the vrix, and yet he could go see them whenever he wished. Ivy had not made that choice. She had not asked to be separated from the other humans. She had not asked to come to the Tangle, to be brought into this life. It was meant to be—she was meant to be with him—but how could Ketahn remain idle when his mate was troubled by this?

He returned his attention to her, watching her clever little fingers do their work. She’d come a long way since he’d first found her. She’d learned a great deal. Ivy was not the same as she had been, and neither was Ketahn. They had changed one another, and he believed those changes were good.

He’d not lied—the pit was dangerous. With the flood season approaching, it would be even more dangerous than on the day he’d found her. But if they delayed any longer, it could be several moon cycles before they could get into that…ship again, and that was only if this season’s rains didn’t finally prove too much and leave the ship completely flooded and impossible to enter.

Ketahn lifted his gaze to her face. She was wearing that look of concentration he’d come to admire so much—her eyebrows low with a little crease between them, her blue eyes glinting with focus, her lower lip caught between her flat, white teeth.

He did not fear the spirits in the pit. He did not fear the danger of the climb, or the beasts that prowled the surrounding jungle. He didn’t fear the strange construction of the ship or the death that permeated it.

His true fear all along, his true reason for denying her request, was of losing her.

What if something went wrong and he failed to protect her? What if the spirits wanted her back?

What if she saw the male humans and decided she wanted them instead?

But now it was different. Now Ketahn and Ivy were mates, they were bound, they were ensnared by one another.

They’d spent the five days since he’d fully claimed her mating in every spot of the den and several places in the jungle, pushing their pleasure to new heights over and over again. She was his, and she had accepted it. She would not abandon him for a human.

Ketahn clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists. He would not allow it—and he would not hesitate to challenge anyone, vrix or human, male or female, who sought to take her from him.

What remained to hold him back from taking her to the ship?

Certainly, it was dangerous, but every day in the Tangle was a risk. And, though she could not make the climb on her own, Ivy was far more capable than she’d been several eightdays ago. She would not be a burden. She never had been.

What was this one thing compared to what he’d already done? Compared to what he’d already risked, what he was willing to give up to keep her safe?

The High Claiming had been yesterday. He’d been expected in Takarahl, had known the potential consequences of his absence, and he’d spent the day with Ivy instead. Ketahn had made his choice. She was his mate, and he’d taken her several times without so much as a thought of Zurvashi.

If the time had finally come for him to leave Takarahl behind forever, he accepted it. He didn’t think the queen would actually harm his friends and his broodsister; now that he’d made clear his choice, Zurvashi would assume they meant too little to him to be of any persuasion. And it would be a poor look even for the queen to turn upon one of her most respected and skilled Fangs for no apparent reason.

Regardless, there were ways to communicate with his friends and sister, and they all knew some of the queen’s wrath might be directed toward them. They also knew how to care for themselves—and how to find him if they had to. They could leave Takarahl should it become necessary.

But Ivy had nowhere else to go. And there was nowhere else for Ketahn but with her.

Ivy glanced his way and raised her head, her lips curling into a smile. “Are you staring at me?”

He lifted his mandibles. “Always, my heartsthread.”

“And what is it that is going through your mind, spider man?”

Ketahn growled and clacked his mandible fangs together. “The ways I might punish you for calling me that, human.”

“Are you going to tie me up again?”

“Yes.”

She grinned wider and withdrew her feet from the water. She twisted to face him, curling her legs behind her. The silk of her dress pulled taut around her breasts. “What if I don’t consider that a punishment?”

“It is best you do not say that,” he rumbled, sliding the net off his legs and placing it aside, “so we may both enjoy it.”

Ivy laughed. The sound was a delight to his ears. Pushing herself up to her feet, she brushed away the moss, leaves, and petals that clung to her skirt and approached him, holding the woven suncrest chain in hand.

“You didn’t tell me what you were really thinking,” she said, standing in front of him.

“Only of you, my nyleea.”

Her eyes softened as she looked at him. He did not miss the pink that tinted the pale skin of her cheeks. Ivy stepped closer, moving to stand directly in front of him, between his forelegs. Smiling, she raised her arms high and laid the ring of flowers atop his head. She giggled as she drew back.

“I don’t think it makes you look any less fierce,” she said.

Ketahn curled a foreleg around her. The ring of vines, leaves, and flowers was warm against his hide, and that warmth flowed down into his chest, spreading outward from there. “I must be fierce to protect you.” He caught her hands with his lower ones, stroking his thumbs along her knuckles. “I will cherish this gift long after the blooms have withered. Thank you.”

A look of surprise flashed over her face, but it quickly gave way to a more thoughtful and curious expression. She tilted her head and dipped her eyes to stare at his mouth. Catching her bottom lip with her teeth again, she shifted on her feet.

“And what is it you are thinking, Ivy?” he asked.

She met his gaze again. “I want to try something with you.”

Now Ketahn tilted his head, raking his eyes down her body and then back up to her face. His stem stirred behind his slit, and his claspers twitched. Her words alone were often enough to excite him, but paired with that curious gleam in her eyes, he could not resist.

“What does my nyleea want to try?”

“I want to kiss you.”

His mandibles twitched. “I do not know that word. What does it mean?”

“I…I think it would be better to show you.” Ivy slipped her hands out of his grasp and lifted them to his face, cradling his jaw between them before she pressed her lips to his mouth.

Ketahn flinched back, uncertain of what she was doing. Touching headcrests was already a familiar, intimate gesture, but this seemed even more so. Her neck—her soft, elegant, delicate neck—was well within reach of his mandibles that way.

“What is this?” he asked.

Ivy drew back, dropping her hands to her middle and clasping her fingers together, but Ketahn prevented her escape by bracing his leg behind her.

“A kiss,” she said uncertainly. “Did you not like it?”

He cupped her cheek in his palm and gently stroked her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “I…did not expect it. For vrix, when we touch headcrests, it is a sign of great trust. The deepest trust”—he brought his mandibles together, touching their tips—“because of the danger. This kiss…it is more than that.”

“It can be. For humans, there are different kinds of kisses. We sometimes kiss another’s cheek to greet them or show fondness or affection. But there are other kisses shared between…lovers. It’s…it’s like mating with our mouths.”

A long, low trill rumbled in Ketahn’s chest, and he found his eyes lingering on her pink lips. He had not known there were more ways to mate, but he was curious to discover them now—was curious to explore them with her.

Dropping his lower hands to her backside and his upper hands to her hips, he lifted her off her feet. Ivy’s breath hitched, and she threw her hands up on his shoulders as though to steady herself. He slid his forelegs beneath her and bent them so their uppermost segments were jutting out straight before sitting her upon them, her thighs to either side of him.

“Show me again, my heartsthread,” he said.

She smiled and brushed her calves along his sides. “Okay.”

Leaning closer, she skimmed her hands toward his neck, her eyes drifting shut as she once more pressed those soft, warm lips against his mouth. But her lips didn’t remain still. They lightly brushed back and forth, grazing his hide, teasing him with little whispers of touch. A thrilling shiver coursed through Ketahn, and his hearts quickened. Between the sensations she was creating and her scent cocooning him, he could not resist his excitement. His stem pulsed and began to ease out of his slit as his claspers circled Ivy’s middle.

She applied more pressure and parted her lips, placing a lingering kiss first at one corner of his mouth and then the other. When she trailed those lips along his mouth in a slow, tender caress, they left fire in their path that only intensified his desire.

Ketahn’s fingers flexed, eager to draw her closer, to spread her thighs wide and sink into her hot, wet depths and lose himself inside her. When her tongue flicked across the crease of his mouth, his breath hitched, and he lost that battle.

“Ivy,” he growled, shuddering as his stem burst free.

He lifted her, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself to him. With a hard thrust, he buried his stem in her slick, welcoming heat, pulling her down until she could take no more of him. Ivy gasped against his mouth, winding her arms around his neck and bracing her feet on his hindquarters.

Squeezing her ass with his lower hands, he worked her upon his length, chasing the strengthening waves of pleasure sparked by her hungry channel.

“Ketahn,” she whispered, brushing her lips across his mouth again. “Kiss me.”

Ketahn rubbed his mouth across her lips, scraping them gently, creating the soft rasp of hide against skin. When Ivy’s tongue flicked once more across the seam of his mouth, he opened to her and extended his tongue, touching it to hers. Their tongues fell into an intricate dance—twisting, twirling, teasing, exploring one another’s mouths with an intimacy he could never have imagined.

Just as he’d wanted, just as he craved, he lost himself inside his mate.

He felt the heartsthread that bound them together coil tighter and tighter inside him, felt their bond deepening with each passing moment, and knew without a doubt that it would never be severed—that he would make war against the Eight themselves if it meant keeping Ivy.

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