The First She ✓

FORTY ONE

Ni'ev looked down at the hatchet in his fist. He gave Vrox a nod, and then walked to his dwelling in search of a blade that could waltz through meat.

Vrox's eyes immediately found his own cave. He rushed inside, hunting Kira. His scowl softened when he found the small female curled on his bed. His bare feet skimmed over the floor as they carried over him to her side.

He hovered, seeking her eyes. They were hidden behind the curtain of sleep. Wet traces on her cheek brought back his scowl. Why had she been crying?

He reached for her delicate shoulder, but halted, choosing to let her rest. Once he returned, he would demand to know how he had failed her. He would slay her tears the same way he would cut down whichever male posed a threat to her.

He rounded the bed, dislodging two of his biggest daggers from the wall.

With a final fierce look at Kira, he walked to the entrance. He balanced both daggers on one hand, using his free one to flick off his loincloth. The cloth was a sign of domestication that he wore for his hooman. It represented a softened side of him that he refused to share with the wild.

He dragged the tip of the dagger down his scaled arm, feeling the rough skin remain unaffected by the metal. This is what he was, what he had to be to protect Kira– hard, unmalleable, and unforgiving.

Ni'ev stood by the gate, inspecting a broadsword and obsessing over its sharpness as usual.

Rokan and Kyros worked on the damaged part of the perimeter, but he didn't have to remind them to keep an eye on Kira.

"Lead the way," Vrox spoke up.

With a practice swing to his broadsword, Ni'ev began to guide.

They didn't have to walk far to find the warrior. His footsteps were placed carelessly as if he didn't care if someone saw them. This was a good sign because it lowered the chance that they were a spy.

As Ni'ev had warned, the man was so grey with age that his cock probably no longer hardened. This didn't surprise Vrox since he came across old men more often than not. This man had scales on his face– a rare place to develop them. A bow and arrows hung from his slightly hunched back. Since he didn't have protective scaling on his torso or legs, Vrox understood why he chose archery over a close-combat weapon.

The man looked relatively harmless. His crotch was covered, meaning that he had been married before The Vanishing happened.

Before Kira, Vrox didn't engage strangers. Most of the remaining men of Ezron had no hopes and dreams, and a hopeless man was deadly. This time, he didn't have a choice. He had to warn this man off the territory before he found the camp and started to sniff around.

With a signal to Ni'ev, he emerged from the trees.

"Mothers," he greeted.

The man spun, caught-off-guard. "Mothers," he returned.

"Leave this area. My brothers and I don't take kindly to strangers."

"You will be displeased to hear that dozens of men will be migrating north this rotation. There has been an increase of spinx in this area."

Vrox grit his teeth, cursing spinx and their precious fur. "Leave," he repeated.

The old nodded once more. "I will. I do not want trouble."

"Good, because you would not be able to afford it."

Like a mother protecting her cubs, Vrox was rabid with possessiveness. The only way any male would get close to Kira was if his seven-foot corpse was eight feet underground.