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And this unique creature was his female. She belonged to him. Many vrix had tamed wild creatures as pets; why should he not have one of his own?
“And you, Ketahn. I am glad she did not eat you alive.” “Had she done so, I would have used my final breath to ensure she choked.”
She’d known at that young age that the universe wasn’t about compassion and justice, but choices and chance. And that most of it fell on the latter.
She was hungry to learn, and he was eager for any reason to spend his time with her.
the simple fact that she was not vrix—she was other. And somehow, that made her irresistibly alluring to him.
All Ketahn did know was that he no longer wanted a life without Ivy in it.
“What…what can I do to help?” Ketahn leaned down, tipped his hard forehead against hers, and breathed in deep. Another rumble rolled through his chest. “Be you.”
Her gaze met his. There was fire in his eyes. Deep, meaningful, and powerful, it spoke of a passion that transcended appearance, language, and culture, of a connection that people only dreamt of finding on this world or any other.
“We are bound by a strong thread, Ivy.”
“Ketahn, this is beautiful,” Ivy said. “It is.” She looked up at Ketahn to find him staring down at her, his markings glowing more vibrantly than she’d ever seen. “It took me a long time to realize it”—he brushed a finger along her jaw, stopping it on her chin—“but it is very beautiful.”
“The right words do not matter if a male does not do the right things. He was not worthy of you.”
“I would see you clad in silk.” He dropped the leaf and cupped the underside of her jaw, angling her face toward his as he took her hips between two of his hands. “I will see you clad in my silk.”
Was it foolish to believe that he and Ivy were, to each other, that something new for which they’d both yearned?
He would not allow the queen to deny his mate-to-be anything—not this dress, and certainly not Ketahn himself.
“Now you are mine, my nyleea. My mate.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. “My heartsthread.”
“The Eight willed that I find you,” he growled. “And from the moment I saw you, touched you, scented you, I knew you were mine. None have gone to that dark place but me. None could have found you but me. Because you were always meant to be mine, Ivy. All my searching has been for you, though I did not know it. And all your waiting was for me.”
“You belong to me, my heartsthread. Only to me.”
How was it possible to feel more wanted, more loved, by something so alien than by those who should have loved her most?
“Now do you understand, Ivy? It was decided before ever we met. You were meant to be mine.”
Ketahn and Ivy were mates, they were bound, they were ensnared by one another.
“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.”
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.
“You should have shown me kissing sooner, my heartsthread. I like it.”
