CHAPTER 133: THE MAW FEAST (2)

With her new bow slung across her back, Nova followed close behind Aiyana through the jungle. After her initial shots on top of the treehouse, the clouds had rolled in, and the rainforest was... well, getting coated in rain. It was humid and their hair clung to their faces, but they continued on.

It wasn’t like one of Tempakar’s storms so life continued on like normal in the jungle. All the creatures and tribes even rejoiced at the rain as they ran along the branches. Birds fluffed up and showered openly, chirping about cleaning their wings. She was glad the big cats beside her didn’t follow their instincts to chase the birds, especially when she can understand them.

"Eyes ahead, we’ll go to the marshlands," Aiyana instructed, moving a low hanging branch aside with her staff.

"Someone’s a little bossy today," Atia mused, bouncing along on the side, his golden-green eyes trained ahead, but twinkling in amusement.

"When isn’t she?" Yoa murmured from behind Nova, his presence always a warm heat behind her.

Aiyana didn’t hear him, but also commented, "When am I not?"

This made them burst into laughter while Aiyana playfully glared at them.

"It’s in my blood. Chief’s daughter and all," she added.

Atia chuckled. "Yes, our savage princess."

"No, no, that would be just his savage princess." Yoa leaned over Nova and whispered in her ear. "I have mine right here."

Nova giggled and went to elbow him in the ribs. Obviously he was a giant, so it didn’t go anywhere near his ribs, and hit just above the hipbone.

Yoa still grunted.

"Alright, play time is over!" Aiyana called back to them, her expression steely again.

She was seriously like a general at times. But that was why Nova was rooting for her plan to work—either prove herself and become the next Chief or have one of the men fall so hopelessly in love with her, they would do anything she said anyway. Nova glanced at Atia, her expectations high.

"Nova," Aiyana clipped, and she snapped out of her daze.

Their movements became quiet, eyes ever watchful. Hunting was still new to her, but there was something grounding in moving quietly through the undergrowth, keeping pace with Yoa and Atia. The jungle pressed in around them, rich with scents of wet leaves, musk, and the sharp tang of river water not far ahead.

Atia had been the one to suggest the excursion, and Aiyana, never one to refuse a chance to test her skills, had eagerly agreed. Nova, though still aching faintly from the morning’s training with Aiyana, was determined not to be left behind. A moving target was the next level to her archery, and it was something she was looking forward to grasping.

All these new skills were bringing more purpose to her life, and by training and working hard, improving, she was becoming more confident standing by Yoa’s side. She would always be weaker, but at least now he wouldn’t have to worry so much if he had to rush off again as the island’s secret superhero.

"Keep your steps lighter, little shrimp," Atia teased over his shoulder, his voice low but amused. "You scare off more prey than you know."

Nova scowled, she thought she had been stepping lighter. Still, she adjusted, copying exactly the way Aiyana moved, almost gliding through the brush. Yoa, as always, was a shadow at her side, his presence steady and protective without needing to say a word.

They tracked smaller prints first—boar, maybe, or deer—but every sign of the hunt eventually drew them closer to the sound of rushing water. Of course it would. Everyone needed to drink, and risked it all to go to the one place predators would know to go to for their prey.

Before they could scout out their meal, something else sounded in the air, halting them.

At first, Nova thought it was the river itself, crashing louder than before. But no—the sound was rhythmic. Drums. Low, pulsing through the earth beneath her feet. She froze, glancing at Yoa, who had already stilled, his head tilted, quietly listening.

Atia’s grin stretched wide. "Well, well. Seems the Apatka are celebrating."

"Celebrating?" Nova whispered. Why was she so nervous about that idea? Celebrating in the city would be for someone’s birthday or wedding, here, it could be anything, especially when it came to the ruthless crocodile shifters.

"The Maw Feast," Aiyana answered, her tone laced with both caution and excitement. Her dark eyes glimmered as she pushed closer to the riverbank. "Once a year, they fight, feast, and drink until the moon sinks. If the noise carries this far, it means the whole tribe is in revelry."

From where they crouched in the foliage, the scene unfolded across the wide sweep of the riverbank. Torches blazed along the shoreline, their firelight dancing against scales and paint. The Apatka tribe roared and stamped in time with the drums, warriors circling in ritual combat at the centre. Others jeered and cheered, their laughter carrying over the water.

Nova’s breath caught. It was wild and primal. She loved it.

Aiyana leaned forward, the eagerness clear in the way she gripped the branch she kept aside for their view. "Look at them! They’re tearing each other apart, just for fun."

"Of course they are," Atia muttered, though even he looked intrigued.

Yoa’s hand brushed Nova’s, a silent tether. "It is dangerous," he said quietly, though his gaze never left the spectacle across the river.

Dangerous, yes. But Nova could feel it too—the pull of the drums, the heat of the fires, the raw, unrestrained life of the Apatka. She exchanged a look with Aiyana, and without words, she knew: Aiyana was already set on watching more.

She ventured forward without a word, and silently, the rest of them agreed and followed the savage princess. This was definitely Aiyana’s scene, and the men were especially intrigued, though gate crashing the Apatka didn’t seem the best of plans. But why not? Nova grinned. These guys were always wild and their rule breaking probably came from the fact that they were the strongest.

So, she was the safest.

The jungle came alive long before they reached the Apatka village. The rain was drowned out by the beat of the drums that grew louder and louder. It thundered through the trees, relentlessly shaking the ground beneath Nova’s bare feet—yes, bare. She’d grown used to it; her skin thicker now.

The night air pulsed with heat and smoke, sharp with the scent of roasting meat and something spiced that curled along her tongue. She glanced at Yoa beside her, his hand warm in hers, and though his stride was steady, his jaw was set tight.

"We should not be here," he muttered, though his eyes glinted in the torchlight, betraying the thrill he refused to admit. If Nova wasn’t with him, she knew he wouldn’t even hesitate. Or maybe he would because of his position as Yiska.

"That’s why it’s fun," Aiyana said, springing forward with the reckless energy of a wildcat. Her braids bounced with the movement, her grin daring them to keep up. "When else do we get to see the Apatka feast? They celebrate like no one else."

"They also fight like no one else," Atia growled, but he didn’t stop her. His long legs carried him after her easily, though his frown lingered. "If they find us uninvited, we’ll be in the pit before the night is over."

"Then let’s hope they’re too drunk or high to notice," Nova murmured, hoping they were getting high from the toads again. That seemed to be a regular occurrence among the Apatka members, usually to prove they could hallucinate and still fight well at the same time.

Her stomach fluttered with nerves, but she couldn’t help smiling too. There was something intoxicating about it all—the crocodile shifters, the drums, the danger of being caught. For the first time in days, she wasn’t thinking about proving herself or about the whispers behind her back, to remember. Tonight, she just wanted to get loose, have some fun, hide from the huge crocodile shifters and watch them in secret.

Torches blazed in tall wooden spires, throwing sparks into the humid night as the rain drizzled out, almost like it was waiting for their arrival.

Warriors painted in black and green sprawled around great fires, drinking from clay vessels, gnawing meat from bones. Women danced in circles, their hips rolling to the pounding drums, their anklets rattling like snakes.

Nova’s eyes widened, her heart pounding to the beat of the drums.

Before they could decide whether to step closer, a voice called out. "Who trespasses?"

An Apatka guard stepped from the shadows, teeth flashing in the torchlight, crocodile hide strung across his shoulders. His spear lowered, and Nova’s breath caught in her throat.

Seriously?! She just wanted to see what the festivities were all about. Nova’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

That was until another voice rang out, deeper, amused.

"Let them through."

The crowd stirred, parting to reveal none other than their chief, Yara.

A crown of crocodile teeth circled her short hair, her eyes gold like river stone, fixed on Nova. "Little shrimp." She parted her arms for her. "It has been too long."

At her words, whispers rose in the crowds about the tiny woman among jaguar shifters. Yoa inched closer to Nova protectively, a growl rumbling from his chest, but Nova stepped out of his shadow and stiffly smiled at Yara and accepted the chief’s hug.