The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe

Chapter 373: How am I going to settle this mess?

Damar didn’t move at first. He stood his ground, a silent mountain of silver hair, pale skin, silver scales, and stubbornness. But then, Lyra—still perched on his shoulder—reached out and patted his cheek with a sticky hand.

"Papa," she murmured, her emerald eyes looking at him with that eerie, knowing gaze.

That did it. The lethal edge in Damar’s posture softened, just a fraction. He looked at his daughter, let out a long, frustrated exhale, and finally turned his gaze away from Thalor.

"For now," he muttered.

"Great! ’For now’ is a fantastic start!" I chirped, trying to ignore the way my thighs were screaming at me to sit down. "Noah, Fenric, grab the kids. Let’s go get breakfast."

Noah was still grinning, Fenric was acting as the unofficial bodyguard, and Thalor was trailing at a respectful distance, looking like a man walking through a minefield.

How am I going to settle this mess? Geez.

Damar seemed to have changed when he returned after being away for two months. He was still loving and put me first, but he used to be so quiet, so patient, and kept his feelings... hidden.

Well, that was before that night when I let Thalor kiss me and he let the dam flow. I didn’t have a lot of conversation with him afterwards before he left, so maybe I didn’t notice, but anything that had to do with Thalor, he hated it.

Still, I’m glad he did not reject the idea of being marked by me simply because it was Thalor’s method.

Like I said before, one crisis at a time, Arinya.

We went back to the tent.

And believe me, it was quite hot. Not as in, they look hot I’m gonna drool, but rather, it’s so hot, I want to get out of here.

The air inside our tent was thick, but it wasn’t the scent of salt or scales that filled the space; it was a simmering, concentrated malice.

Damar sat across from Thalor, his posture rigid. If looks could kill, the merman would have been filleted and served as an appetizer minutes ago.

I sat in the middle, trying to focus on the food, but the atmosphere was like a physical weight. Every time Thalor moved a finger, Damar’s pupils would thin into lethal needles, his tail giving a restless, sharp twitch against the dirt floor.

Then, Lyra made her move.

She leaned out from Damar’s lap, her emerald eyes—so like his—locked onto Thalor. She stretched out her tiny, chubby hand, her fingers fanning open as she reached for the purple-haired man who had been her constant caretaker for weeks.

"Thal..." she babbled and I swear someone was going to die at that moment.

I saw the muscle in Damar’s jaw tighten. His hand tightened around Lyra’s waist, not enough to hurt the child, but enough to keep her firmly to him. But he wasn’t even looking at her, he was looking at Thalor. His gaze was dark, fueled by the thought of Lyra trying to call Thalor’s name before she even learned his.

"Stay away from my daughter," he hissed, and Thalor frowned.

Yikes, they were having a brawl with their eyes now.

But then, Damar’s gaze slightly softened as he looked away and suspiciously recalled the previous night he spent with me.

When he had claimed me, his possessiveness had peaked at the sight of that mark on my ankle. He had been so driven by it that he had bitten me right next to the mark, and as he recalled this, he had a rather smug expression on his face.

And somehow, Thalor had noticed it and of course, he wasn’t happy with it.

Thalor decided he wasn’t going to play the cautious guest anymore.

Thalor leaned forward, his tanned skin glowing in the dim light of the tent. As he reached out to tickle Lyra’s palm, he intentionally showed the side of his neck.

I nearly choked on my water. There, near the base of his throat, was a dark, unmistakable bruise. A bite mark. My bite mark from two nights ago.

Ah, I bit his throat when we were having that foursome. I was dazed so I didn’t really know what I was doing. But it was unmistakably mine. Oh God, what is Thalor trying to do?

Damar’s nostrils flared and he flicked his tongue. He could smell it and even taste it as the closer Thalor came. My lingering scent. It was a direct provocation. Thalor wasn’t just standing his ground; he was engaging in a silent war, showing Damar that the ’Fish’ had been deep in the Land-Mother’s graces while he was away.

Oh man, this is a disaster.

"You are bold," Damar rasped, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone. "To sit here while wearing my mate’s mark and carrying her scent."

Thalor’s violet eyes didn’t flicker. "I sit here because I am welcomed. And I wear what was given to me freely. After all," he lifted his gaze daringly. "She is also my mate," that definitely snapped a chord in Damar’s head.

That’s it! I have had it.

"Enough!" I slammed my hand on the table, the wooden bowls rattling. "I’ve had a long two months, a long night, and I’m currently sitting on legs that feel like they’ve been through a meat grinder. I am NOT going to put up with this so early in the morning. We are eating breakfast as a family, or I am kicking everyone out and eating with the babies in peace."

I should’ve just done this from the start.

Noah, ever the instigator, leaned back with a piece of dried meat, watching the exchange with a wide, delighted grin. Just where had his kingly prestige gone? It seemed like he would prefer his role as my troublesome husband to the king of this kingdom.

"I told you, Fenric. Spice. It’s better than the feast last night."

Oh, just shut it.

Fenric just sighed, detangling Raiden from his hair.

"Eat your meat, Noah." He seemed to be fed up with the situation. Sure, he had also kept Thalor at arm’s length after I accepted him as my mate, but it wasn’t to the extent that he had that murderous gaze that he wanted to kill Thalor.

It really looked like Damar was going to do something to Thalor, not gonna lie.

"And Arinya’s right. If the tent falls down because you two can’t contain your energy, you’re the one building the new one. And..." he looked at Raiden. "The kids will get caught up in it. So think it through."

The remainder of the kids finally forced a temporary truce. Damar didn’t stop glaring, but he turned his attention to feeding Lyra goat milk, his movements sharp and deliberate.

He hadn’t fed her in her human form before but he seemed to have no issues with it, like he’s been babysitting all his life. A natural-born Nanny.

"The marking," Damar muttered, suddenly lifting his gaze to look at me. "You said I would be first."