Bound (The Spider's Mate, #3)

by Tiffany Roberts

True strength was found not in muscle and bone, but in hearts and spirit. True strength was in staring at a world so much larger than oneself, a world determined to crush you, and fighting on even when there seemed to be no hope of success.

No. If all the black space between the stars and more than a hundred years had not been able to keep Ketahn and Ivy apart, this door certainly would not prevent their reunion.

“He’s talking about us, isn’t he?” Lacey asked, smirking. Lifting her spear, she braced her feet and took a fighting stance, jabbing the pointed end of the weapon in front of her. “He doesn’t trust our mad skills?” A large, dark figure stepped up behind Lacey, silhouetted by the morning light. Lacey started, but before she could turn, the figure had reached to either side of her, placing big hands over hers on the shaft of the spear. Telok leaned over Lacey, his face close to her ear, and placed his lower hands on her hips. Her breath hitched. He slid her leading hand away from the spearhead and turned her other hand slightly, correcting the angle of her arm. Then, with a foreleg, he pushed her feet farther apart to widen her stance. Lacey rolled her eyes. “Couldn’t just let me have my moment, could you?” “What did she say, Ketahn?” Telok asked. “She thanked you for the lesson,” Ketahn replied with a chitter. “That did not seem a grateful tone.” Telok turned his face toward Lacey but paused. His mandibles twitched. Hesitantly, he pressed his face into her hair and inhaled. A low trill sounded in his chest. Ivy’s eyebrows rose high. “Um… What’s he doing?” Lacey asked, standing very, very still. “He’s, uh, praising you.” Ivy covered her mouth to hide her grin. Rekosh chittered. “It seems the hunter has scented new prey.”

“Twenty-second century and they still didn’t consider feminine hygiene products a necessity. Go figure,” she grumbled as she plunged the crotch of her jumpsuit into the water to scrub some more.

The humans laughed, and—after a quick explanation from a blushing Ivy—the vrix chittered. But Ketahn’s amusement didn’t help him understand why humans would even think about doing such things. What did it matter how large or small a male’s stem was compared to those of his friends? So long as one’s mate was satisfied, it made no difference.

She smiled to herself. Her mate. Her lover. Her very own sexy, insatiable spider man.

Ahmya lay closer to Ketahn and Ivy, still bundled in blankets of her own. One of her little feet was poking out from beneath those blankets. Rekosh’s hand rested but a finger’s length away from Ahmya’s exposed foot. Rekosh himself was sprawled out with only his torso inside the shelter, looking as though he’d meant to tuck Ahmya’s foot back under the blanket when he’d fallen asleep.

“I am happy. I am full of pride. I am full of love. For Ivy Foster is my mate, and no one on any world can claim such fortune.”

Ketahn’s eyes widened. “No. No, you will stay with me, Ivy.” Ivy tilted her head and raised her brows. “You want the other males to see me naked?” His mandibles fell and drew together. With a growl, he placed his hands on her shoulders, spun her toward Ahnset, and pushed her forward. “Keep them safe, broodsister.”

“Say that scars were pain. She should not look upon them with shame. She does not have to feel pride, but when she sees them, she should take pride in herself. Because she survived whatever left them. Because she, like each of you, is strong.”

Lacey waggled her eyebrows. “Ivy still has us beat with her eight-legged lover.” Tightness flitted through Ivy’s chest. She knew it for what it was—a reflex that had been shaped by years of being judged. But it was fleeting, gone as soon as it had come, because there was no judgment here. Ivy smiled. “Six-legged. He’s a vrix, not a spider.”

“She, uh, said that she would rather carry Ella with us. Until we find a new place to make our home. And that we should remember Ella in that place, and make sure she is welcome, because…because there are no goodbyes. Because Ella will always be with us, and even if it hurts sometimes, it is a beautiful thing.”

“Vrix, not spider.”

“We could have landed on some ice planet. Least the weather is nice enough here for skinny dipping.”

“The nausea, the spotting, the pelvic pain, the swelling in your belly, and tender breasts are…are signs of pregnancy, Ivy.”

“I weave my word into a bond, my nyleea. Nothing in this world shall harm you or our broodling. You are the heart that beats outside my chest.”

She drew Ketahn’s head down and pressed her forehead to his. “I won’t let Zurvashi take you from me,” she said fiercely, voice thick. Tears stung her eyes, but she did not look away from him. “You are mine. My luveen, my heartsthread, my everything.”

Ivy turned her face toward him, her lips skimming his cheek before she kissed the base of his mandible. “Claim me, Ketahn.” She dropped her hands to his shoulders and curled her fingers, raking her nails down the hard ridges of his chest. “Conquer me. Make me yours, again and again.” Ketahn opened his mouth to graze her shoulder with his teeth, making her shudder again. “I have conquered you, female.” “Prove it. As you did before.”

“You are mine, Ivy,” he growled. “I claim you, now and forever.” He caught the cloth wrapped around her body with a lower hand. “You are mine. Body”—he tore the cloth away, throwing it to the floor—“heart, and spirit.”

Urkot chittered. “What few wits I had possessed, Okalan knocked well out of my head. I was confused when she grabbed me. I remember thinking that I was not searching for a mate, but how could I deny a female who was so interested in me?” The other vrix, thornskulls included, chittered. A few moments later—as Ivy’s translation caught up to the story—the humans laughed. “Then she roared in my face and pulled my arms in opposite directions,” Urkot continued. “Your story, Garahk, did not tell enough of this part.” “What does it miss, Three-arm?” Garahk asked. “That it hurt.” Urkot’s tone—which suggested the answer should have been obvious to all—drew more chittering and laughter. “There is only one worse pain I have endured in all my life.” “And what was that?” asked Ahnset. “Listening to Rekosh talk every day.” That sparked yet more amusement, even from Rekosh.

“You are mine.” She dipped a hand into the paint and pressed it over his hearts, which thumped harder beneath her touch. “Hearts.” She moved her hand down, placing it just over his slit and making his claspers stir. “Body.” Now she coated both hands in paint and lifted them, cupping each side of his face. “Spirit. You and I are as one, Ketahn.”

“Akalahn. Akalahn tes Ivy’ani Ul’okari. Son of the female who freed Takarahl, the once-queen. He who is our hope, our joy, our future.”