Page 55 of Theirs to Crave

I grinned into her beaming face as her mates gathered her up. “Let me sit beside you, elder. Teach me your ways.”

“As if you needed to be taught,” she scoffed, waving me away.

I looked around, and the smile fell from my face. “Sky people”, my mother called the strangers. I could see the impact the name had on my friends and family. They hung back, watching the small, weaponless strangers with trepidation, many of them making the sign to ward off death.

As Arvel had, theka’vek.

There were no children in the crowd. Not even Svixa, who by all rights should have been among those welcoming the strangers to our family, since it was her life they’d saved.

I relaxed my jaw with effort. In time, they would see that the strangers were no more bringers of death than any other person. We had named them kin, and our honor would see that they were accepted. I had faith that their own actions would see them embraced. Eventually.

Probably, with no help from my mother.

“Go. . .village. . .now?” Yin asked.

Saytireka had met us just out of sight of the village heart—unwilling to let the strangers enter theerralaytuhwithout seeing for herself that they posed no threat.

A reasonable precaution, I begrudgingly allowed.

“Yes. Eat. Talk.” I examined the strangers—although I didn’t allow my eyes to linger on Estrayuh or Shane. The snarling aggression I’d felt watching them embrace had been...uncomfortable. “Possessive” was not a trait I’d thought to own, and not one I wanted.

The people standing before me now bore little resemblance to the bedraggled group we’d led to our den. My chest warmed. They’d recovered much in our care. Taking them to thejavuhlast night had been the right choice—no one should have to deal with my mother in the state they’d been in.

I’d noticed their nervousness growing on the painfully slow trek to the village, but had been helpless to do or say anything to relieve their worries. Now, having been invited to stay, they peered towards the village with new excitement.

My own concerns had only grown.

“Saytireka’s hiding something,” Revik grunted as we escorted the strangers past our lingering people. They watched us, stares intent.

I grimaced.

“When is she not?” Litha’s tone was dry, her eyes serious. Still, she found an encouraging smile for our new kin as she pulled back a fragrant growth ofakathand nodded for them to precede us.

Their gasps and open appreciation warmed me. I tried to see the village heart as they might, as if I hadn’t made myself known to every leaf and twig when I was a kit.

It was large. Large enough to contain the central fire—and several more cooking fires—with room for the whole village to comfortably gather. The roof of theerralaytuhrose so high that the three tallest among us could not reach the peak if they stood atop one another.

The strangers wouldn’t know the paintings spiraling up the trunks of thezhazhalouktold the history of our people. Or that it was the images of our honored dead who watched us from thebranches above. From their wide eyes and awed whispers, it was clear they recognized the beauty, if not the meaning.

It was also clear—as they eased closer to one another—that facing so many Teterayuh was as intimidating for them as staring down an ambush ofva’grev. Estrayuh was biting her mouth again, and despite intentions to keep my distance, I found myself moving to her side.

“Yin! ‘Strayuh! Welcome! We are kin now!”

At Svixa’s ebullient cry, I jerked to a stop.

Smiles broke over the strangers’ faces as Svixa waved—urging her mother to walk faster. When they drew near enough, Selka knelt, her eyes glistening. She locked gazes with each of the strangers in turn as she thanked them for saving her child, swearing her own oath of kinship and aid.

She rose, moving to embrace her sister as her mates Arlan and Tonkal came forward. They each cuddled a baby, and they introduced little Arlanesh and Sion to their new kin with pride. Hesitance forgotten, the strangers gathered around, cooing and laughing as tiny, furred fingers batted the air.

Seated at the far end of theerralaytuh, my mother scowled.

Revik’s arm slid around my waist.

“They’re helpless to resist the little ones, just like the rest of us.” Litha smiled beside her beaming sister; voice raised to spread through theerralaytuh.

“Come, sit with us,” Svixa coaxed. “Fathers roastedikfrit, and Mother madecasacakes to welcome you to the family! Come, come!”

My mouth watered. Svixa’s mother, Selka, was one of the best cooks in the village, and hercasacakes were always perfect: crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, with just the right amount of sweetness. Even better than Revik’s, not that I’d tell him so.