Page 10 of Koha'vek
I was in my element, taking each step slowly and deliberately. The grouse's head and wings half-lifted in alarm, but it was too late. I launched a throwing knife. And it spun once through the air and struck with a soft thud, pinning the bird to the trunk in a single clean motion.
I retrieved the bird and wiped the knife clean on some leaves, then turned back toward Ava with my prize.
“Now, that was hot.” Ava blinked.
I raised a brow, intrigued.“You find food acquisition attractive?”
“When you do it without a sound? Yeah. Little bit.”
I did my best to suppress a smile as I slipped the grouse into my game bag. “Then dinner will be your reward. No venison tonight.”
Chapter Six
Ava
The smell of roasting grouse filled the air of every room in the small cabin. It was the first real change from venison in days, and I was more than ready.
Koha’vek knelt beside the flames, turning the bird slowly on a makeshift spit, his massive frame hunched with casual grace. The firelight caught the metallic sheen in his skin and cast gold along the ridges of his face. He looked otherworldly in the quiet dusk—dangerous, beautiful.
I sat wrapped in a thick blanket on the couch, boots off, toes warm by the fire in a precious pair of woolen socks. The cold of the trail still clung to me, but here, here, with him, it felt warm and cozy. Spring had been trying to break through for the last week, but the temperature dropped quickly when the sun began to set.
Looking at my handmade socks and then at him, I smiled, remembering a couple of days ago when he had returned from his hunt withmy lost belongings. I could have kissed him, and I almost did.
“You’re really going to make me wait, aren’t you?” I asked, chin resting on my knees as I watched.
“If you want it cooked properly,” he said, deadpan. “Unless you prefer your food half-raw and full of microbes.”
“Uh, no thanks. But it smells done, and I am so hungry.”
A faint flicker of amusement crossed his expression.
When the bird was finally ready, he sliced a piece free and handed it to me on one of his carved wooden plates.
I bit into it—and nearly groaned aloud. “Okay, wow. This is amazing.”
Koha’vek looked pleased. “Better than deer?”
“Better than anything I’ve eaten in weeks.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. I’ve been starving for something that wasn’t deer.” I paused, then glanced up at him. “This… this is nice.” Sometimes, it was fun to poke at him, but in the weeks, I’d spent with him, I’d come to appreciate the way he took care of me.
His gaze held mine across the fire, and I realized I needed to let him know what it meant to me.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt like this,” I said. “Warm. Fed. Not looking over my shoulder.”
He watched me silently, the fire casting long shadows across his cheekbones.
“I haven’t felt safe in a long time,” I added, voice barely above a whisper. “Not since before Jenkins. Not since I had a home.”
“You have one now,” he said, quiet but confident.
My chest tightened. “You don’t even know me. Not really.”
“I know what it means to be hunted. To wake up, waiting for the worst.”
He set down the knife and crossed the fire to sit beside me, just close enough for his presence to be felt like heat, steady, grounding.
