The murmur that rippled through the crowd was like the rustle of leaves in a storm—curious, skeptical, watchful. Heads lifted, eyes locked onto me, some narrow with assessment, others wide with intrigue.
The weight of their gazes pressed against my skin, but I stood tall, my pulse steady, my expression calm. This was my moment. My introduction. My opportunity.
Hina's voice cut through the silence like a blade, firm and commanding, leaving no room for doubt. "He is under our protection now." Her dark eyes swept over the crowd, her tone leaving no space for argument.
"Under my protection." She turned to me then, her expression softening just enough to make it clear—this wasn't just words. This was a vow.
"Dexter, from this moment on, you are family." Her voice dropped, lower now, just for me, but still carrying the weight of her authority. "And in this tribe, family takes care of each other."
I nodded, my throat tight with something that wasn't quite gratitude and wasn't quite triumph—but something close.
Then Kerry stepped forward, her hand finding my shoulder, her voice warm but carrying across the firelit clearing. "Hina... I forgot to tell you..." She glanced at me, her dark eyes glinting with something knowing—something proud.
"My Dexter... he's also a healer." The words hung in the air, and a ripple of surprise passed through the crowd. "His grandfather was a healer. He taught him all his skills..."
Hina's head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with excitement—with hope. "That's great..." Her voice was breathless, almost disbelieving, as if she'd just been handed a gift she hadn't dared to wish for. "Now we also have a healer in our tribe!"
I hesitated—just for a second—before I shrugged, my expression false with modesty. "But... Aunt Hina..." I let my voice drop, just enough to make sure everyone was listening.
"I only learned how to heal women's diseases..." I paused, letting the implication sink in. "Before my grandfather could teach me about men's diseases... he passed away."
The crowd stilled. A beat of silence. Then—
Hina laughed. Not in disappointment, but in delight. "That's also fine, Dexter..." Her voice was warm, assuring, her hand clapping my shoulder with approving strength.
"I am happy that we have you..." She turned to the tribe, her voice ringing out, proud and commanding. "Now... we will become a stronger tribe!" Her gaze swept over the gathered faces, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
"And you heard now—we also have a healer!" She raised her voice, her words carrying over the crackle of the fire. "If any woman... has any sickness, she can come to Dexter!"
A murmur rose again—this time, different. Excited. Hopeful. Hungry.
I smirked inwardly.
Oh, they'd come.
And when they did?
I'd heal them all right.
In ways they hadn't even dreamed of.
The words still hummed in my mind, a dark promise lingering beneath the surface of my thoughts. Hina's voice cut through the haze, pulling me back to the present.
She reached into the pile of roasted meat near the fire, her calloused fingers selecting the largest piece before turning to me. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that made her sharp features look even more imposing.
"Here you go, Dexter." She pressed the meat into my hands, her grip firm, her tone maternal but laced with something else—pride, maybe, or the satisfaction of having secured a healer for her people. "You should eat a lot. As you're growing up."
I took the meat, the warmth of it seeping into my palms, the scent of charred flesh and smoke filling my nose. But I didn't bring it to my lips. Not yet.
My gaze flicked over the meat—dark, glistening with fat, the edges blackened from the fire. There was no salt, no seasoning, nothing to mask the raw, primitive taste of it. And worse—hygiene. Had they washed it? Cleaned it? Or had they simply butchered the animal and thrown it over the flames, blood and dirt still clinging to the flesh?
My stomach twisted.
I glanced at Hina, her dark eyes watching me expectantly, waiting for me to take a bite. The tribe around us was already eating, tearing into their meat with teeth and hands, juices dripping down their chins, their laughter mingling with the crackle of the fire. They didn't care. They didn't know any better. This was life here—raw, unfiltered, survival in its most basic form.
But I knew.
And the thought of biting into something that might still be tainted—something that might rot in my gut—made my throat tighten.
I forced a smile, my fingers tightening around the warm, greasy meat on the bone—still steaming, the scent of spices and roasted fat clinging to my skin. "Thank you, Aunt Hina," I said, my voice smooth, practiced, dripping with false gratitude.
My stomach twisted, but not from hunger. I didn't eat. Not yet. Instead, I turned the meat over in my hands, pretending to inspect it, my thumb brushing against the charred edges as if judging its perfection. The juices glistened under the flickering torchlight, but my mind was elsewhere—calculating, stalling, buying myself just a few more seconds.
Then Kina's voice cut through the hum of conversation like a blade.
"Dexter... come." Her fingers curled around my wrist before I could react, her grip firm, possessive. "I'll take you to meet the others."
I glanced back—just once. Kerry's eyes were on me, dark and unreadable, her lips parted as she took a slow, deliberate bite of her own meal. Hina laughed at something, her voice bright, oblivious, but Kerry's gaze lingered, heavy with something unsaid.
The firelight danced across the faces of the women gathered around, their laughter and chatter weaving through the crackling flames. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and sweat, the warmth of the fire pressing against my skin. Kina's hand was still clasped in mine, her fingers warm and possessive as she pulled me toward the group.
"Dexter," she said, her voice bright with excitement, "meet Ruth."
Ruth looked up, her white hair catching the firelight like spun silver, her blue eyes sharp and assessing. She was young—around Kina's age—but there was something otherworldly about her, something that made my pulse quicken. Her skin was pale, almost luminous in the flickering light, a stark contrast to the bronze tones of the other women.
The hide wrap she wore clung to her body, the material stretched tight over her full, round tits, the nipples—pink, perky—peeking through the gaps in the leaves.
My gaze dropped lower, to the white bush between her thighs, the curls soft and inviting, a stark contrast to the darker hair of the other women. The thought of spreading her thighs, of seeing that pale, soft flesh up close, made my cock twitch in anticipation.
"Hello," Ruth said, her voice soft but not shy. Her eyes lingered on me, curious and assessing, as if she could see right through me.
I replied, " Hello, Sister Ruth... "The way her hide wrap hugged her hips, the way her ass swung slightly as she shifted her weight—it was maddening. I could already imagine my hands gripping those hips, pulling her onto my cock, feeling her tight, wet heat clench around me.
Kina grinned, pulling me along to the next woman. "And this is Aunt Vera."
Vera was older, her body mature and voluptuous, her blonde hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Her bronze skin gleamed in the firelight, the hide wrap she wore barely containing her large, heavy tits, the nipples dark and hard beneath the leaf.
My gaze dropped to her bush—thick, golden, curly—peeking out from beneath the edge of her wrap. The way her hips flared, the way her ass filled out the hide skirt, made my fingers itch to grab her, to squeeze that flesh as I fucked her from behind.
"Welcome to the tribe, little brother," Vera purred, her voice low and husky. "You're going to fit in just fine."
I smirked, my voice dropping to a teasing tone. "I hope so, Aunt Vera."
She laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh, I know so."
Suddenly, A woman stepped into the clearing, her long, white hair catching the firelight like silver.
"Mother!" Ruth called, standing up.
Kina tugged my hand again, leading me toward the last woman. "And this is Aunt Ada—Ruth's mother."
Ada stepped into the firelight, her long white hair cascading down her back like a river of silver. She was older—fifties, maybe—but fuck, she was built. Her body was full, voluptuous, her tits large and heavy, straining against the hide wrap that barely contained them.
The leaves skirt clung to her wide hips, her ass round and firm, filling out the skirt in a way that made my cock throb. Her skin was pale like Ruth's, but marked with years—lines around her eyes, scars on her arms—evidence of a life lived hard and well. Her blue eyes were sharp, knowing, as if she could see straight through me.
"Aunt Ada," Kina said, pulling me closer as the woman approached. "This is Dexter..." She grinned. "He's my brother now."
"Hello, Dexter," Ada said, her voice deep and smooth, like warm honey. "Call me Aunt Ada, just like your sister."
"Aunt Ada," I repeated, my voice respectful, but my mind was already racing with filthy thoughts.
The way her hide wrap hugged her thick waist, the way her tits swelled above the leaf, the way her bush—white, like Ruth's, but thicker, wilder—peeked out from beneath her skirt. I could already imagine kneeling between her thighs, burying my face in that soft, curly bush, licking her until she screamed.
Kina beamed up at me, her eyes shining with pride. "Dexter, you're amazing..." She squeezed my hand. "A healer at such a young age..."
I shrugged, pretending modesty, though my gaze kept flicking between the women—Ruth's slim, pale body, Vera's mature curves, Ada's full, voluptuous figure. "It's nothing amazing, sister..." I glanced at Ada, then back at Kina. "My grandfather taught me everything..."
Kina turned to Vera, her voice excited. "Aunt Vera, hasn't your waist been hurting these days?" She grinned. "Why don't you let Dexter see it?"
Vera's gaze snapped to me, her eyes darkening with something hungry. "If Dexter thinks it'll help..." Her voice was low, suggestive, as if she already knew exactly what kind of help I had in mind.
I let my gaze linger on her waist—thick, soft, perfect for gripping—before meeting her eyes. "Sister..." I said, my voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "I have to take a closer look... at Aunt's waist..." My fingers itched to touch her, to trace the curves of her body. "Examine it properly..."
Kina nodded eagerly. "You have to help Aunt Vera, Dexter..."
"Don't worry, sister..." I murmured, my voice a promise. "I'll definitely help Aunt Vera..."
Ruth spoke up, her voice concerned but laced with curiosity. " But, Dexter... but do you need any herbs?"
I pretended to think, my eyes still locked on Vera's full, inviting body. "First, I have to see Aunt's waist clearly..." I let my voice drop, suggestive, filthy. "See where she's hurting..." My gaze flickered to Kina. "It's best if she's lying down... so I can examine her properly..."
Kina grinned, "Don't worry, if Aunt Vera needs herbs. I'll ask my father to get the herbs Dexter needs to heal Aunt Vera..."
Suddenly, as Kina was talking, I spotted the familiar faces of the guards I'd met earlier with Mitt. They were heading straight toward me, their expressions friendly yet purposeful.
One of them—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a confident stride—stepped forward and said, "Hey, Dexter! Once you're done eating, come with us. We'd love to show you around the place." His voice was warm, almost inviting, as if they'd been waiting for this moment.
Without hesitation, they began introducing themselves. The first, a man with sharp features and a quick smile, extended his hand and said, "I'm Patt." Next was Eric, who had a calm, measured demeanor, nodding as he spoke his name.
Then came Luke, the most talkative of the group, already launching into a story about something that had happened earlier in the day. Finally, Joe, the quietest of them all, simply gave a firm handshake and a nod, his presence steady and reassuring.
I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere—on Ada, on Kerry, on the way this tribe was unfolding before me like a feast of flesh and desire. The women's bodies—Ruth's pale, tight curves, Vera's mature, voluptuous figure, Ada's full, soft flesh—burned in my mind, each one a promise of pleasure waiting to be claimed.
Then Vera's voice cut through the chatter, her tone playful but sharp. "Kina... when is your man coming back?"
Kina glanced up, smiling. "Tusk? He should be back soon..." She shrugged, her voice light. "The sun is going down. He'll be here with father and Uncle Ryan..."
Tusk.
The name triggered a memory—the young hunter I'd met with Ryan and Mitt. The one Ryan had introduced as the tribe's youngest hunter. The one whose woman—Kina—was now standing beside me, her hand still clasped in mine.
I smirked internally, my gaze lingering on Kina's curves, the way her hide skirt clung to her ass, the way her tits swelled beneath the leaves.
Sorry, Tusk.
Your woman is mine now.
And I'll mold her into my shape.