Chapter 137: The Maw Feast (6)
The Maw Feast raged on, the drums thumping loud, warriors hollering while another round of blood spilled in the stone-ringed waters. The Apatka somehow were getting rowdier and rowdier. Fights broke out among each other, but guards escorted them away.
Their chief wouldn’t allow her people to go too far. The Apatka were known for their battle rage, and the Maw Feasts in the past may have gotten out of hand. To kill each other by accident when it was meant to be a joyous occasion was embarrassing and word had gotten back to the other tribes. Silver Flock especially believed the crocs to be fools of the land.
The fights among the crowds continued like the guards and Yara hadn’t interrupted those who clearly were going to take it too far.
Nova and Aiyana stayed together while the guys had left them to search for the vampira, and for any cracks in the magic that kept the creatures away from the rest of the island. After sometime, Nova relaxed more, feeling Yoa’s urgency slowly diminishing. Her eyes would glimmer golden occasionally, revealing when Yoa was communicating with her through the bond.
She couldn’t quite communicate back yet. The distance between them was too great. It was like a signal error on a mobile, only some of her words would get through the barrier of her mind. While she struggled, Yoa sent back images of his surroundings, like live tv, only to update her.
"OOH!" The crowd cringed at the same time one of the Apatka warriors cried out, snapping Nova back to the present.
The defeated warrior held a trembling hand up, stopping his opponent from advancing again. His other hand hovered over his thigh, face leaking of colour at the broken bone that had pierced through his skin.
"Take him away!" Yara called out and guards rushed forward to help him.
Yara clicked her tongue and shook her head, disappointed the fight finished so soon. They were at the top competitors now and the fights were somehow even more brutal. None of the Apatka usually resigned to their defeat though. Nova couldn’t blame him!
Aiyana burst into laughter, exhilarated as another jumped into the fray, taking on the warrior who had broken the previous man’s leg. This time, it was a woman, and boy did Aiyana cheer her on. So did Nova, even as she cringed at the brutality of the fight. Here, gender didn’t matter.
The female warrior had entered the ring, well aware of the difference in strength, but she was quicker, agile, and crueller than man.
"Look at them!" Aiyana called out, her cheeks rosy from the excitement. "They look like they’re having so much fun!"
Nova looked at her in horror. This was her idea of... fun?! She shook her head. Of course it was. The girl was insane—but that’s why she loved her.
’Nova,’ Yoa’s voice floated back to her and her gaze glazed over with new imagery. They found black droplets of vampira blood on the ground.
While Nova’s attention was taken by Yoa and what he and Atia were doing in the surrounding area, Sahco stepped closer to Aiyana, standing just behind her, smirking. "You sound envious."
Aiyana turned, eyes sparking. "Maybe I am."
It looked freeing, and fighting was always a way to express herself, to express her displeasure of not becoming the next chief.
Sahco’s grin deepened, something dangerous glinting in his expression. Without saying another word, he caught her wrist and pulled her through the crowd.
She didn’t resist, allowing the exhilaration to rush through her and sweep her away from all of her worries. Even if it meant dealing with a crocodile shifter, whose intentions she didn’t know just yet.
They broke away from the circle, slipping into the darker edges of the feast where torches did not burn as bright. The noise of the fighting dulled, though the ground still trembled with drums and chants.
Aiyana shoved at his chest lightly, her smirk never fading. "What are you doing?"
"What I should have done long ago." His voice was low, rougher now, his hand sliding up her arm. He pressed her back against a tree, his mouth capturing hers before she could answer.
It was hungry, claiming, and she answered with the same fervour. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, her body arching into his. The kiss deepened, hot and reckless, their breaths mingling.
For a moment, she let herself drown in it, in him. The strength of his grip, the heat of his body, the taste of him, it stirred her senses into overdrive. There was no divide between them, and she could completely lose herself in the moment.
He lifted her up in a single motion and the next thing she felt with a startling cry was being pressed back against a tree. Her legs curled around him as heat scorched through them, her lips moved hungrily against his, tasting sweat, salt and the faint copper tang of blood, probably from a fight—there was a faint bruise growing on the side of his lips.
Sahco’s hands gripped tighter on her hips, pulling her flush against him as if he could consume her entirely. Aiyana responded in kind, nails dragging down his back causing him to grunt and smirk at her feistiness.
For months he had taunted her in the sparring ring, mocking, smirking, pushing her until her temper ignited. Now all that fire came pouring out through their kiss.
His teeth grazed her lower lip and she answered with a throaty moan, tugging his hair so hard he growled low in his chest. The noise sent a shiver down her spine and pressed her body harder against him. She felt his strength caging her in, that arrogant dominance he never bothered to hide now forcing itself upon her in a way that should have thrilled her. And for a breath, she thought it did.
Her fingers splayed over the planes of his chest, over muscle coiled like a predator waiting to strike. His lips trailed to her throat, searing kisses marking down her skin as if laying claim. Aiyana tilted her head back, giving him more, her breath ragged.
This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For Sahco to finally give in, to finally take her as seriously as she had always—
But then a shout cut through the noise. A guttural call from one of the Apatka, summoning Sahco back to the fight.
He stilled, forehead resting against hers, breath heavy. "Later," he promised, voice a husky growl that raked along her spine.
And just like that, he was gone, striding back into the torchlight, leaving her pressed against the tree with her pulse hammering in her ears.
Aiyana lifted trembling fingers to her lips, the taste of him still there. That was hot. So incredibly hot, wasn’t it? It should have been. She should have been burning with desire, weak-kneed with hunger for more. She’d liked this guy for ages...
Instead, she felt... hollow. Empty, like drinking sea water when you craved wine. No spark, no fire, nothing but the ache of expectation that fizzled out the moment he left her.
Aiyana groaned, covering her face as she hid longer in the shadows, frustration clawing at her chest. How is this possible? After all that tension, all the waiting—that was it?
Jaw tight, Aiyana pushed herself from the tree and wiped at her mouth. She wouldn’t linger here like some wilted flower. ’Later’? Please. Did she look like a woman that waited?
She’d been a fool and allowed herself to fantasize over a guy who really wasn’t all that. Her body had answered, pulse quickened, heat burning along her skin, but beneath it all...
There had been no spark.
Releasing a sigh, Aiyana straightened and let her resting bitch face show once more and returned to the crowds, trying to shake away the strange disappointment weighing heavy in her ribs. Without meaning to, her eyes sought out Atia.
Meanwhile, closer to the ring, Nova stood between Yoa and Atia. The men had returned empty-handed, but with knowledge that the caves were still intact.
She held Yoa’s hand tightly, drawing comfort from his warmth. Atia, restless and sharp-edged beside her, scanned the crowd. "Where is Aiyana?" he asked, voice strained as his eyes darted across the warriors gathering for the next fight.
Nova hesitated. She might have been distracted by Yoa’s mind link, but she’d sensed Aiyana’s absence and guessed exactly where she had gone the moment Sahco had also vanished from sight.
Guilt pricked her chest as she shook her head, feigning ignorance. "I don’t know."
Yoa’s eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the ripple of dishonesty across the bond. He didn’t push, though. Not yet.
"How do you not know?" Atia frowned, his fingers deftly weaving through the end of his hair, loosening his plait. "You were meant to stay together. Aiyana wouldn’t leave you... Even if the Chief favours you both... I cannot make sense of it... She is not in danger..."
His mark would alert him to it. But something else was starting burn at his chest. It was an uncomfortable sensation, and one his beast was restlessly responding to. The jaguar in him wanted to be released, to strike out and maim.
Atia was never one to lose control.
That’s when he saw her.
Aiyana parted the crowd with her long strides. She looked radiant as usual. But he saw it instantly.
Her hair was slightly mussed, her cheeks flushed—that was not from the heat of the fire or the crowds.
Atia’s gaze dropped to her lips. They were swollen.