by Dixon, Ruby
That was the best kiss I’ve ever had—the only one that involved tongue, even—and I’m devastated I can never do it again.
I can’t do this, though. I can’t be the bad girl, the one messing with other people’s men. That’s not who I am. If he tries to kiss me again, I can’t do it…no matter how badly I want to.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up, dress, braid my hair, and when I come out of the cave, S’bren is waiting by the main fire for me. I automatically look for N’dek but he’s nowhere to be seen, which I suppose is for the best. I shouldn’t be disappointed.
I force myself to smile brightly at S’bren as he approaches.
“You wish to get a plate for yourself, yes?” he asks, giving me a proprietary look. I’m not so innocent that I don’t recognize that expression. He’s looking at me as if I belong to him. It’s the same look N’dek gave me last night just before he kissed me.
The difference is that I liked it when N’dek did it, even though I shouldn’t.
When S’bren does it, I just get a feeling of dread in my stomach.
But…dinosaur bones. Big ones. That trumps any feeling of dismay. “I don’t want a plate,” I correct him gently. “I want to examine the bones to see if we can determine what creature they’re from.”
He grunts. “There are plenty of bones in camp if you just want to look at them.”
“I want to look at those bones.”
He grins, straightening. “With me?”
Or without you, but I hold back those words. “Sure. Lead the way.”
“We must not take long,” he says as we walk out of camp. “There are more games today and I want to be in them.”
“Oh. Okay.” Maybe he can just show me where the cave is and I can hang out there by my lonesome all afternoon. “What kind of games for today?” I ask politely.
“Wrestling,” he says, and I could swear his tail rubs against the outside of my leg.
I deliberately step a little farther away from him, hoping that was accidental. “I see. I guess the humans will not be taking part in that one.”
“You can cheer for me,” he says, sounding like every other macho jerk on earth.
“Lucky me,” I say drily.
* * *
The morning is a waste.
We can’t find the cave. At all. The cliffs are a network of tiny caves and riddled with gaps and holes, and S’bren is apparently not good with memory recall. We go to the first cave, then another, then another, and each time, S’bren declares that this is the one. Each time, it is not. I turn rocks over, looking for vertebrae, or coprolites—dino poop—but there’s not a hint of anything exciting to be seen.
S’bren nudges me with his tail repeatedly, too. Never in a bad way or inappropriately, but I’m reminded of a spoiled child that wants attention and constantly yanks on his mother’s hand. When we check the sixth “dud” cave and he nudges me with it again, I stop being polite and turn to him with an exasperated look. “What?”
“I have heard humans like to kiss,” he says, and for a moment, he looks utterly bashful. “Do you?”
“Nope,” I lie. “I’m not fond of it at all.”
“Oh.” He thinks for a moment, and then gives me another hopeful look. “What is it you like, D’vi?”
Dinosaur bones, I want to bite out, but I don’t. Poor S’bren. I feel bad for him because he’s clearly interested in me. I should be thrilled. He’s strong, attractive, nice, and I just feel absolutely nothing when it comes to him except impatience. Why can I not like this guy? I study him and he watches me with an utterly hopeful look, his tail flicking back and forth like an eager puppy. His forehead is flushed with color, and I wonder if he’s blushing.
I feel so guilty.
“S’bren,” I say gently. “I think you’re a very nice man…”
His expression immediately falls. “But you do not like me.”
“You’re very nice,” I try again, wanting to spare him from hurt feelings. “I’m just…” I spread my hands, unsure what to say. I’m messed up over the guy that’s about to snag Bridget? I kissed him on the beach and now I’m all jacked up in the head? “I’m just having a hard time adjusting to this place and I’m not sure I want to be anyone’s pleasure-mate.”
S’bren’s tail stops flicking with eagerness. He nods, though he can’t hide his expression of disappointment. “I understand.”
“I really don’t want to hurt your feelings. I think you’re very sweet,” I offer. “But I think I’m not ready for a relationship right now.”
My Nani would faint to hear me say such a thing. In her eyes, I am already getting old and withered. I can imagine her words. He is handsome, naatin! You need a man to provide! To make babies with! Family is important! I want great-grandchildren!
Then again, maybe Nani would approve if I kept my legs closed, given that a pleasure-mating is just for sex and companionship and not children.
“May we be friends, then?” he asks, his expression uncertain. “I like you very much. You are clever and seem so happy to be here. It is nice to see.”
I beam at him. “Of course, S’bren. I would love to be your friend.”
“Do friends kiss?” he asks eagerly.
“Nice try.”
He grins. “I had to try.”
“And I have to turn you down,” I say, flipping over another rock that is just that—a rock.
“Maybe we will come out here again tomorrow morning to look for the cave,” S’bren says. “As friends.”
“As friends,” I agree, and straighten. “What time should we go back to camp?”
He squints up at the sky outside. “Now.”
I dust off my hands. “All right. I’m ready to cheer on this display of testosterone.”
When we get back to camp, everyone’s gathered by a specific spot on the beach. Days ago, Sam and Penny lined a large circle with rocks and then smoothed out the inside, making our wrestling “arena.” People are seated around the edges, and there’s barely a spot to sit down as we approach. I see two men wrestling in the center of the ring, their bodies gleaming with sweat, color rippling as they grapple at each other.
“Who’s fighting?” I ask, fascinated at the way they move.
“I’rec and T’chai,” S’bren says, watching them. “I am glad to see my clan brother is feeling better. I was not sure if he should participate, but he is looking strong.”
Mardok and Farli stand in front of me, and so I have to crane my head to try and see anything when they move. I squint at the two men, looking for bands. I can’t see their faces, but T’chai is obviously the thin-looking one. When he flexes, I can see his ribs, and I remember how skeletal he looked when he first began to recover. There’s no chance he’s going to win against I’rec, who’s on our team, but no one seems to care. When I’rec pins him to the ground, he immediately offers T’chai a hand up and they slap each other’s shoulders.
“Good fight,” S’bren says, pleased. “T’chai did well.”
I’m glad that everyone is so happy for him. That’s one great thing about these people—they band together. Even if I sometimes feel like “that weird dinosaur woman,” I know that people here care about me. Everyone cheers as the two men leave the ring, and I clap my hands, searching the crowd for Mari. I want to see her reaction to T’chai’s fight for some reason. She’s there on the sidelines, completely pale and terrified, but she manages a timid smile when T’chai turns in her direction.
I guess I’m rooting for them to be together on some level, but seeing her smile at him makes me happy.
“Okay, that’s one point for the red team,” Tia calls out, dropping a stone in a bright red woven basket. “Who’s going to challenge each other next?”
S’bren steps forward.
Before he can speak, though, A’tam pushes his way through the crowd. “I will fight N’dek.”
I choke back a gasp. What the fuck?
Bridget groans. “Please, A’tam
, don’t start.” She sounds weary, as if A’tam’s constant attention is beating her down. “Let’s just have one day without dick swinging, all right?”
A’tam ignores her and points at someone on the sidelines. I can’t see who it is, and I bounce, trying to see over Mardok’s shoulder.
A man steps forward. An alien. Four arms. Barrel chest. Long, recently cleaned braid. Scowl on his face.
N’dek.
I gasp, my hands clapping to my mouth. He wore his leg out in front of everyone! And he’s standing just as tall and proud as any other. I’m so proud of him I could burst. I’m also utterly terrified that A’tam’s going to be an asshole.
I push my way forward, because I have to see this fight. I move to the front, standing next to Bridget, and N’dek’s gaze focuses on me. He gives me a long, hard look and then crosses his arms over his chest, all of them.
He’s utterly breathtaking. A’tam is pretty, sure, and all of the Islanders have great bodies, but there’s just something about N’dek that hits me on a visceral level. I can’t stop staring, from the tiny bit of red tied on one wrist to the lock of hair that strays from his braid and waves against one of his horns. My mouth waters as I look at his rippling chest and down to impossibly thick thighs that look utterly biteable. My gaze locks onto his leg, where he’s double-strapped it and wrapped the bone in leather to reinforce it. He stands on it solidly. Confidently, as if he’s done this all his life.
I’m so fucking proud.
“KICK HIS ASS!” Bridget calls out, cupping a hand to her mouth. Her voice bellows in my ear and I wince, even as the men launch into action. I remember that he’s not mine, he’s going to be Bridget’s. It doesn’t matter that I kissed him, or that he wanted to kiss me again, all that matters is that a symbiont with a mind of its own is going to step in and make how much we like each other irrelevant.
A’tam surges toward N’dek and everyone gasps. I bite back one of my own, because I know he’s not fragile. I know he doesn’t want to be treated any differently than anyone else. I fight back another surge of pride as N’dek twists out of A’tam’s grip and bounds away. He makes it look easy, but his prosthetic wobbles ever so slightly and I imagine it smacking against his sensitive stump and wince in sympathy. I know he keeps adding padding, but I worry it won’t be enough and he’s going to hurt himself.
He’s a big boy, Devi, I remind myself. He can handle this.
“Kick his ass, N’dek,” Bridget calls again, pumping a fist. The crowd ripples with laughter and I try to smile, when all I really want to do is grind Bridget’s face into the sand for encouraging this.
I put my hands over my eyes, unable to watch. It’s not that I think N’dek will fail—he’s bigger and brawnier than A’tam in every way. It’s that I want him to succeed so badly that it makes me hurt. And even if he does succeed? It’s for Bridget. “I can’t look.”
S’bren puts a hand on my shoulder. “I will watch for you.”
I didn’t even realize he moved to my side. I continue to hide my eyes, wincing with every slap of bodies, every grunt, every foot that skids in the sand, every groan of the crowd. The people crowded around are totally into it, and when the beach erupts in cheers and Bridget belts out another cheer, I peek through my fingers.
N’dek stands over A’tam. His opponent is covered in sand, his skin sweaty. N’dek’s sweaty too, but he doesn’t have a bit of sand on him. A’tam never got the upper hand. My lips part with wonder, and a laugh bubbles up out of me.
As I watch, N’dek offers a hand to A’tam, who scowls and takes it, jerking a little harder than he should to get to his feet. I know it’s all a ploy to unbalance N’dek, but the four-armed alien is as sturdy as could be and acts unruffled by A’tam’s actions. They both nod at each other, and then N’dek turns and scans the audience. His gaze locks on me, and I feel my cheeks flush. The smile curving his mouth disappears, his eyes locked somewhere over my shoulder.
Oh. S’bren has his hand on me.
I swallow hard. It feels like I just messed up somehow, but shouldn’t N’dek want Bridget’s attention? Not mine?
“You did amazing,” Bridget crows, shooting a triumphant look at A’tam as she bounds forward to N’dek’s side. He’s enveloped by people slapping his back and congratulating him, and disappears from sight.
“Another point for red team,” Tia calls out. “Who’s up next?”
8
N’DEK
I linger with my “team” as long as possible, my leg throbbing. I ignore it for as long as possible, because after so many days of sitting, I do not want to be the first one by the fire again. Never again. When the group moves toward the fire for food and relaxation, I am glad, and I do not mind being squeezed onto a rock next to V’rdis and A’nshee and their kit. I do not feel as if I am alone in the tribe, an outcast despite my seat at the center. Now I sit on the fringes of the group with the others and I have never felt better.
The ache in my leg spreads up my tired thigh and throbs all the way up to my jaw. I continue to ignore it, because the healer is busy. J’shel and H’nah returned to the camp this afternoon with B’rukh and her mate T’shen. J’shel’s arm is terribly wounded and I do not want the healer distracted away from healing him because I have sore muscles. That would be selfish.
R’jaal and R’hosh murmur quietly with M’dok and F’rli, their expressions worried. T’shen has brought back tales of a massive sky-claw, one big enough to swallow others. I know what sky-claw this is—Old Grandfather. The legends are true, which is interesting enough, but I am too tired to listen to the others plan on how to take care of this newest problem. Sky-claw will always be dangerous, and a hunter must always be on the lookout for many dangers. Whatever they decide can wait until morning. For now, I want to take my false leg off and rest.
Once I approach my hut, though, I realize there is a problem.
J’shel is back with H’nah…and this is not my hut. He built it to impress her, when all of the males on the beach were in a frenzy to build huts and impress females. Now that he has finally won her, he will want to be in his furs with her…and I do not want to sleep next to that. I do not want to listen to the sounds of them mating, because it will make me ache for Devi.
Ache more for Devi.
So I take my furs and bundle them into a pack. I take my gear, and I take Devi’s precious skins and carefully wrap them up and haul my things to one of the supply tents near where L’ren and K’thar have their tent set up. Here, I will not be bothered. No one will come looking for food or unworked skins this night. They are too busy celebrating having fun with the games. The mood around camp, which was so surly days ago, is light with joy. For all that these games are not much like the hunters’ challenges back on the island, they were a wise decision.
I unroll my furs in the chilly darkness of the supply tent, and then sit down, easing my weight off my stump. It is cold in this tent with no fire, but that is fine. I would rather be alone than surrounded by people right now. I undress and stare up at the top of the tent, rubbing my aching thigh and thinking about today.
Today has been both a good day and a bad day.
I did not sleep much last night. I thought of Devi and her mouth. Devi and her tongue. Devi and the little moans she made. I want to impress her. I want her to be proud of me. It is Devi who has brought me back from the bleakness that threatened to swallow me whole. The false leg was my idea, but Devi never made me feel strange about it, or as if I am to be pitied. That helped me realize that she saw no reason why I could not walk again. Her confidence in me made my confidence grow.
She was also not afraid to tell me I smelled, which brings a chuckle to my lips.
I do not want B’shit, I realize. It is Devi I want. It is Devi I dream of kissing again. When I go out to join the others, I want Devi to give me that proud, confident look on her face, as if she knew I could do this all along.
Because of Devi, I stay up all night, practicing walking on the beach. I s
tumble many times, slipping on the smallest bits. My body shakes with exhaustion and sweat coats my limbs, but I practice, because I want to show Devi that I am a hunter like any other.
When I wear my false leg as I move toward the fire that morning, I hear gasps and excited murmurs from people as I slowly make my way toward the firepit. A few hunters clap me on the back—nearly knocking me off balance—but I search the faces by the fire looking for one in particular.
Devi was not there.
It was good to walk amongst the others on my own. Good to feel their approval. But it was not perfect because Devi was not there.
I thought perhaps she avoided me after our kiss.
Then the games began and A’tam challenged me. My irritation grew, because I knew why he challenged me. He thought I was his competition for B’shit. I wanted to turn him down…but then I saw Devi watching, and I accepted.
I beat him thoroughly, as well. Winning that match filled me with such joy, such a sense of power that I wanted to laugh and shout with happiness all at once. I turned to look at Devi, to share my moment with her—
And saw S’bren’s hand on her shoulder.
It was like a punch in the gut.
Was she with him this morning? Has she gone from my arms to his? She avoids me by the fire all night and I am utterly weary of all of it. Now I just want to rest and relax my throbbing, aching leg and try to forget how close S’bren likes to stand to Devi.
She is not mine.
B’shit is supposed to be mine.
I rub my silent chest, wishing my khui would give me a signal, an indication that B’shit is my mate. I wish I was half as interested in her as I am Devi. She does not have that same enthusiastic sparkle in her eyes that Devi does, though. She does not look at the beach as a place of wonder, of opportunity, of fascinating things to learn about.
Devi is so filled with joy, with a love of life. I need that. I want that. I feel whole when I am near her.