Willa's Beast: Icehome - Book 3

by Dixon, Ruby

  The pregnant woman gives me a weak smile. “How about a chocolate bar, a cup of coffee, and a jacuzzi tub?”

  “I can make some weak-ass needle tea,” I offer instead.

  “Sure.” She keeps smiling, but her uneasy expression is on Gail and the fussy child in her arms.

  “We haven’t really had a chance to talk,” I tell Gail as I put the tea pouch over the coals. “I’m Willa.”

  “Oh, I know who you are, honey.” She grimaces as the baby grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks. “We’ve all heard you.”

  “Heard of?” I ask.

  “No, heard. The valleys around here carry sound.” She winks at me and then hisses in pain when the four-armed baby tugs hard. She carefully detangles his grasping fingers from her hair. “Z’hren, baby, you’ve got to leave some hair on Gail’s head.”

  He responds by screaming outrage in her face.

  Even I wince at that. “Um, you want me to take him for a second?”

  “No, it’s all right. We’re just getting used to each other, him and I,” she says, and even though the child is screeching at the top of his lungs in her arms, she gives him a look of such love that I can’t help but smile. “We’ll figure it out. It’s been a few years since I’ve had a baby, but I know sometimes there’s nothing to do but let ’em fuss it out.”

  “But he’s an alien baby,” Angie pipes in as I find the small basket of needle-like leaves that’s always near the fire and add a few to the pouch. “What if he doesn’t act like regular babies?”

  I glance back at her to see her touching her stomach, worry on her round face.

  “Babies are babies,” Gail says confidently. “They’re simple enough once you figure out what sets ’em off. They want food, a clean diaper, and love. Everything else is secondary.”

  “Mmm.” Angie doesn’t look convinced.

  “Speaking of babies, I guess congratulations are in order,” Gail says, and it takes me a moment to realize she means me.

  I blush. “It’s early yet, but thank you. We’re still figuring out a lot right now.”

  “Like whether or not you’re gonna stay?” Gail asks, and when the baby reaches for her hair again, she gives a small sigh and lets him grab a fistful, wincing. “I heard you weren’t a big fan of the people here.”

  “Everyone’s really nice, actually. I just didn’t like our…welcome, for lack of a better way to put it. Gren was tied up and treated like an animal.”

  “Yeah, some of these men, bless their hearts, don’t really know how to handle humans. Did they tell you how I got here? Some fool bought a bunch of human slaves because he wanted us to be their mates.” She rolls her eyes. “Elly had to explain slavery to him real distinct-like because it wasn’t going through that thick skull of his.”

  I blink at her, surprised. “So you weren’t brought here with the others?”

  “Oh no,” Gail continues. “Bek”—and she rolls her eyes—“decided that he was lonely and needed a woman, so he told Mardok’s old crew to buy him some. Long story short, here we are. But it’s turned out all right. I met Vaza and this little man.”

  I decide I like Gail. I sit down next to Angie while the tea steeps and put my hands on my knees. “And you don’t resent them? For what they did?”

  “Bek was real sorry once he figured out what he did,” Gail says, her gaze focused on Z’hren as he squirms in her arms. “And I prefer this place compared to the place I was before.” Her mouth firms and she shoots me a wary look. “I didn’t come straight here from Earth, if you catch my drift.”

  I don’t, but it must be bad. “I see. And you…trust these people?” The question comes out of me almost as if pried out, I’m so reluctant to speak it, but I need to know. “After what happened to bring you here?”

  “There are all kinds of people in this universe, Willa,” Gail says, and bounces Z’hren on her lap. She’s constantly adjusting the baby, trying to find the right way to hold him to make him stop squirming, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “You meet some good and some bad, and you judge people by their hearts. Some of these people aren’t good with human stuff, but they have real good hearts, and that’s what’s important. You have to look deeper, sometimes, to see intent. And at some point, you have to trust that not everyone is going to hurt you.”

  That’s the part I keep sticking on. I keep worrying that I’m going to mistake smiles and pretty faces for rotten cores, like Mama. How she’d be so very sweet and loving, and then turn around and make me go sit on Uncle Dick’s lap because he wanted to “hold me” even though I was twelve. How every time I desperately wanted to believe her, to love her, she’d disappoint me all over again. I look at Lauren, and Gail, and Liz and their alien mates and I wonder if I can trust them. “How do you get past it?”

  “You have to believe in the good in people again or you’ll die miserable and alone. I’ve been miserable and alone. This is much better.”

  “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  Gail just smiles.

  Angie shifts on her pillow, and when I glance over, her face is contorted in a pained grimace as she rubs her back again. “How about you?” I ask. “You have just as little reason to trust as I do.”

  The pregnant woman’s expression grows sweet, dreamy. “I believe in love,” she says softly. “And I see a lot of it here on this planet. Even if the cootie’s picking, the results are the same, you know? Everyone’s in love and happy. Maybe I can have that someday.” She rubs her belly and looks thoughtful. “Maybe someone will love me and whatever comes out of my body.” For a moment she looks so sad that my heart breaks for her, and then she smiles, the moment gone. “But most of all, waking up like this—with this belly, on this planet—makes me realize I can’t do this on my own. This isn’t Earth. The rules are different and maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe this is the universe telling me that it’s okay to start over completely. Does that make sense?”

  I find myself smiling. “Actually, yeah. That makes a lot of damn sense.”

  Maybe me and Gren can start over, too.

  29

  WILLA

  The day passes surprisingly pleasantly. I forgot how nice it is to be around other women. Gail and I do our best to keep an extremely fussy Z’hren occupied, while Angie tends the fire. A group of the others return after a time, with baskets full of plants and seeds, and they sit down near the fire pit to shell the food.

  Brooke sees me and immediately gravitates over. “You need a fresh braid. You do my seeds, and I’ll do your hair.”

  I take her basket and Liz shows me how to pop open the seeds to extract the nutty kernels inside. They’re a lot like peanuts, so it goes easily enough, and Liz’s cute little daughters snack on the food while we work.

  “I don’t see why we have to be stuck doing the girly stuff,” Hannah grumbles as she works on her basket. “I swear, this planet is setting back women’s rights by a hundred years.”

  “Don’t start that shit,” Liz says, then taps her toddler’s hand. “Aayla, baby, don’t eat all the seeds. Save some for the rest of the tribe.” She turns back to Hannah. “I hunt. Farli hunts. Nadine’s learning, and so is Penny. You’re welcome to get your happy ass out there with a spear if you’re not wanting to do women’s work.”

  Hannah just makes a face at her.

  “Ignore her,” Devi says with a cheery smile and a teasing look at Hannah. “She’s mad because she’s not getting any from J’shel.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Hannah grumbles, but her face turns bright red.

  “J’shel?” I look up from my seeds. “The one with the braid?”

  “Someone’s playing a little too hard to get,” Devi continues merrily. “I think our boy doesn’t know what to do. It’s so cute. You should see their faces when they’re together—”

  Hannah abruptly gets to her feet and storms away.

  “Whoops.” Devi glances at the rest of us. “Guess she’s a bit sensitive about it.”

&n
bsp; “Cootie hormones,” Liz says. “She’ll be a beast until she’s getting the good dick.”

  The group titters.

  “I’m going to tell Papa you said a bad word,” Raashel tells her mother smugly.

  “Little narc,” Liz mutters, but gives her girl an affectionate tousle of her blonde hair, clearly proud. “Speaking of beasts and dick, how’s it going, Willa?”

  Somehow I suspected the conversation would come back to me. I ignore Sam, Devi and Flordeliza’s giggles and just smile. “It is great dick, thanks for asking.”

  More laughter. Brooke twists my hair with little tugs, chuckling, and the discussion turns toward when Harlow’s going to have her baby (any day now) and how Bridget caught Tia with a handful of playing cards trying to get Sessah (the new, lanky barbarian from the old tribe) to play strip poker in their tent.

  “He didn’t grasp the concept,” Flordeliza says, chortling as she shells quickly. She shakes her head. “He just wanted to strip down and show her the goods whether he won or lost.”

  We all laugh at that, because nudity is not a problem for these people in the slightest.

  People start to trickle back into the camp as the suns move through the sky. I watch the groups of returning hunters with anxious interest, hoping that Gren won’t return with a scowl…or in ropes. How is he doing without me at his side? Are the others treating him fairly? Why am I so worried?

  “It’ll be fine,” Gail murmurs to me with a pat on my shoulder. She gets to her feet to put a sleeping Z’hren down for his nap. “My Vaza will take good care of him. Just you wait.”

  Waiting’s all I can do. Harlow and Rukh bring another group of women back, these with nets full of tiny fish that cook up crispy and oily. A bit like bacon, someone tells me, and then I’m drooling, waiting with excitement. Bacon fish? Yes please. Rukhar, Harlow’s little boy, sits down by the fire next to Raashel and Aayla, and Liz’s daughters promptly boss him around, which is adorably cute. He’s a quiet little thing, Rukhar, like his stern father.

  A second fire pit is started near the main one and a multi-pronged spit rigged, along with a couple of strips of a seaweed-like plant spread on the rocks. Harlow explains that when it dries, it’ll catch the spatters from the cooking fish and be a nice treat. The shelling group grows, and one of the hunting groups returns with a dead snowcat. I wrinkle my nose, determined to avoid snowcat—I’ve had enough of it for a while. The red twins set down their kill, leaving an annoyed Cashol and a very confused Nadine behind.

  One of them immediately approaches Angie and kneels at her feet. “You look uncomfortable today.” He touches her knee, concern on his face.

  She blushes, looking around helplessly at us. “Just, you know, pregnancy bloat and aches. The usual.”

  “I do not know,” he says gravely. “But I would like to help.”

  “I would, too,” says the other, moving to her side. “Shall I get you food? Drink?”

  Brooke murmurs, “Rut roh,” as she finishes off my braid.

  The first twin—I swear I can’t tell them apart—scowls at his brother. He turns back to Angie a moment later. “Shall I rub your feet to ease them?”

  “Oh, uh, that sounds really nice.” Angie’s face looks as if it’s on fire, but she extends one foot and I can see even through her boot that they’re swollen.

  He takes her foot reverently and begins to unlace her boot.

  “I can do your other foot,” the second twin begins, moving forward.

  “What the hell?” Nadine sputters. She storms toward the second twin and grabs his arm. “You can clean your damn kill is what you can do.”

  “But Angie,” he begins, looking at Nadine in confusion.

  “Is already getting a foot massage.” Irritated, Nadine gestures at a waiting Cashol and the dead cat. “Do your damn job.”

  “Are you jealous?” he asks, astonished. A smile crosses his face. “I can rub your feet as well, though you are not carrying young.”

  “How about you rub the damn feet of that cat with your skinning knife,” Nadine mutters, batting away his attempts to touch her. “Idiot. Damn.”

  The second twin just watches her with a confused expression, scratching at his chest. After one more glance at Angie, he reluctantly follows Nadine back over to Cashol and the waiting kill.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Brooke whispers. “Methinks there’s trouble in twinland.”

  I watch as one kneels reverently in front of Angie and begins to rub her foot. What a mess. I thought my relationship was complicated, but maybe not so much. I’ve never doubted Gren or how he felt. I’ve always been utterly secure in his love for me. Watching Angie, I feel…blessed. Happy.

  Content.

  And I miss my man dreadfully, even though I know he’s just going to be gone for a few hours.

  My anxiety continues to ratchet up notch by notch as other groups of hunters trickle in and more meat is put on to roast. Delicious scents fill the air, and when Brooke is done with my hair, Farli drags me away and helps me into a new, dress-length tunic with pretty, red-dyed quills woven along the neck in a sunburst pattern. It fits better than my last tunic and it’s the prettiest thing I’ve owned since we arrived, and I admit to giving her a teary hug or three. I feel positively glammed up with my new braids and tunic. Brooke’s wrangled my messy curls into two French braids that curve my scalp and have several smaller decorative braids feeding into them from the sides. There are no mirrors here, but she gave Angie the same hairstyle and Angie looks fantastic.

  I wonder what Gren will think, and I feel a flush of pleasure as I consider how he’ll react.

  It’s just about dark and almost everyone is gathered around the fire—even a sleepy Veronica and a surly N’dek—when an unfamiliar voice calls out “Ho!” and Gail looks over at me. “That’ll be Vaza and your man.”

  I jump to my feet, excited, and race out to the edge of the camp to greet him. I’m both worried that he had a bad day and elated that he’s returning, and a brief vision of Gren tied up flashes through my mind. Please, no. I slow down as I see a trio of shapes emerging from one of the canyons, one hunter walking ahead of the others while two carry poles with no less than four dead animals hanging from them.

  “Are we too late for the feast?” Vaza calls out, all good humor. “Where is my pretty female?”

  I race past him, heading for Gren. He carries the front of the poles with J’shel taking up the back, and my breath catches in my throat at the look on his face. Gren is…smiling. No, more than smiling—he radiates happiness and pride. It’s obvious that he’s had a wonderful day, and all of my anxiety fades in a moment.

  He needs this, just as much as he needs me. He loves being included, being part of the group. He’s never had this before and he’s loving every moment of it.

  That decides me. I beam at my mate, wanting to hug him, but his arms are occupied. “Hey there, sugar!”

  “Willa!” His eyes light up as he sees me. “Come and see what we’ve caught.”

  “It looks like a crapload of meat,” I tell him, unable to stop grinning as I move to his side. They pause and I fling my arms around Gren’s neck even as he leans down to kiss me. “Y’all did great, sugar.”

  “Your mate brought down all but one,” J’shel tells me. “He is tireless.”

  “Oh, I know,” I say, and giggle when the look in Gren’s eye’s turns from pride to something sexy. “Come on,” I say, gesturing at the fire that Vaza is heading toward. “You’re just in time for the big feast.”

  And I slide in next to my beast and put my arm around his waist, because he’s mine.

  GREN

  Today has been an amazing day.

  It never occurred to me that hunting could be an enjoyable experience when shared with other hunters. J’shel was distracted for most of the day, but still good company for all that his hunting was poor. Vaza was a very patient teacher, and I learned how to use the bow rapidly. I like it, even though it does not mean getting c
lose enough to my kills to scent their blood. It is a distance weapon, but it requires precision and skill and I enjoy the challenge. When I brought down my first kill with a single arrow, Vaza clapped me on the back and praised my success.

  And I felt…proud.

  I cannot stop smiling for the rest of the day as we bring down more of the dvisti and learn how to chase the herd into shallow canyons, how to interpret from their footprints which way they move. I am tired by the end of the day, but happy, and when I see my mate approach, all smiles, I feel as if I can conquer worlds.

  We rest by the main fire as someone else butchers our kills for us, and Vaza tells everyone of our day. My mate prepares a bowl of tasty things for me, and I feel more powerful than even my most brutal arena victory when she smiles at me. I have provided for her and the others. I have made the other hunters proud.

  It is a strange, welcome feeling.

  Willa curls up next to me on one of the rocky seats and slips her arm around my waist as we eat. She picks tidbits from my bowl, nibbling and listening to the others talk. Someone brings out drums and a fermented drink and then the merrymaking gets rowdier, especially when the Shadowed Cat clan begin to dance. One dances directly in front of a fascinated female, his motions making it quite clear that he wants to take her to his furs. Raahosh steps in, frowning and escorting the male away from the open-mouthed human female, who does not look entirely pleased at the interruption.

  Mardok—the one who gave me the ability to speak to Willa—clears his throat and stands in front of the group. “While we’re all here, I thought we’d talk a little about some things. Vektal and a few of the others have gone back to Croatoan to be with their families. Those of us here with our mates will be staying behind to help you through the brutal season. With Ashtar’s help, Salukh, Pashov, Cashol and Hassen will be returning home in the next moon. That means there will be a lot for everyone to do for the next while. The weather is milder here on the coast, but much of the hunting grounds are covered in ice the farther you go into the mountains. You will need extra food supplies, containers for them, skins for clothing, fuel for fires, and weapons. The land will provide all these things, but we have to work for them, especially with twice as many mouths to feed.” He turns and looks at Farli, smiling. “Tomorrow, my mate will be leading an extended hunt for any that wish to go.”