by Ruby Dixon
Now there is no more warm at all.
I bite back the sadness and take a few steps forward, one hand on N’dek’s belt so he does not slide off. His big arm chokes my throat, but I flex my thick neck muscles and ignore it. My boots crunch heavily in the sand and then the wind shifts and I hear it.
The light sound of H’nah’s voice.
I pause.
N’dek lifts one hand, pointing over my shoulder. “The fire is that way, J’shel.” He sounds annoyed that I have stopped. Ironic, considering he did not even wish to go to the fire a moment ago.
H’nah speaks again, her voice low and throaty, and my khui sings loudly in response.
Instead of heading toward the fire, I turn and head toward the beach, where she stands far too close to O’jek. The Shadow Cat male scratches at his chest and glances at the waves, a discarded net behind him as if H’nah has approached mid-fishing. I am relieved that he does not look as if he enjoys her company; he looks as if he barely tolerates her and cannot wait to get away. He looks at me as I approach with N’dek, relief on his brow. “Here is your mate,” he says loudly. “You should talk to him.”
“He’s not my mate,” H’nah bites out, crossing her arms over her chest. “God, you men are impossible.”
Her khui hums boldly as I move closer, and O’jek picks up his net and casts me a wary look. “I said no,” he tells me, then heads into the waters.
H’nah purses her lips.
I watch her for a moment, trying not to notice that when her arms are crossed, they push her tunic against her body and emphasize her large teats. If she were back home with me, on the island, her soft, pale skin would be exposed to the air, gleaming with sweat. She would be pale pink everywhere, barely covered with the leaves that L’ren wore, and my cock gets hard at the thought of so much naked H’nah. Perhaps it is wise these females keep themselves so covered in furs. I try to focus my thoughts, and glance at O’jek’s retreating back. “He said no to what?”
“Nothing,” H’nah says defensively. “What do you want?”
N’dek gives a long-suffering sigh, but I ignore him. He can sit and do nothing by the fire soon enough. For now, I must speak with H’nah.
“Why were you talking to O’jek?” I ask. “What is it you need?”
“Nothing.” She lifts her chin, looking defiant and fierce and so lovely that my khui surges with song, growing louder by the moment. “Since when is talking to someone against the rules?”
I want to say that it is not against the rules. That she can talk to whoever she pleases, but that is not what comes out. Instead, I growl and say, “Because you are my mate.”
“Wrong again,” H’nah says in a fake-cheery voice. “I’m not your anything.”
“Let us go to the fire and get something to eat,” N’dek says from behind me, exasperated. “This is a foolish conversation.”
I ignore him and take a step closer to H’nah. “He said that he told you ‘no.’ What did you ask of him?”
She hesitates, the wind ruffling strands of her mane. It has been plaited in an intricate series of circles around her head, emphasizing her lack of horns and her very alienness. After a moment, she tucks a long strand behind one rounded ear—an ear I can still taste—and then answers me. “I…needed a favor.”
Her words sting me. A favor? “Why not come to me?”
H’nah throws her hands in the air. “Because you get all weird!”
“I do not!”
“You will if I ask you this.”
“Bah,” I say, waiting. I gesture with one hand. “Spit it out. I wish to know what you ask all the males in the tribe but not me.”
She looks at me uneasily and then glances over my shoulder to N’dek. “Is he going to get weird?”
“I do not care,” N’dek says, voice toneless. “Do not draw me into your games.”
She frowns at him, and for a moment I want to go and dump N’dek into the sea. “Do not be rude to H’nah,” I snap at him. “She has done nothing to deserve your words.” I turn back to my mate and force myself to remain calm, to gesture politely. “Ask me.”
H’nah looks uncertain. She says nothing.
I am suddenly tired of all of this. I am tired of N’dek and his apathy. I am tired of H’nah’s secrets. I am tired of the cold and the ache in my chest…and my cock. “Have I ever been cruel to you?” I ask H’nah. “Touched you with anger? Been unkind?”
“You have touched her?” N’dek asks, suddenly interested once more.
H’nah’s face flares bright red, reminding me of camouflage, and she looks uncomfortable. She is not running away, though, so I consider this and speak boldly. “I have touched her,” I tell him. “And she did not hate my caresses.”
“Well, well,” N’dek says, a rumble of amusement in his chest. “The truth reveals itself.”
H’nah averts her eyes, shifting on her feet. “I didn’t hate the caresses, no, but you said some wildly inappropriate things.”
“Like what?” N’dek gives my braid a tug, trying to get my attention.
I think of what I said. My thoughts are all of her softness, her slight weight in my lap, the taste of her skin…
Taste. I remember now. I told her I wanted to taste her everywhere. “I did not know these words were not allowed. All I want is for you to be happy, H’nah. It was not meant to hurt you.”
Her pink mouth trembles a little, and she nods.
Perhaps when she is not so angry at me she will tell me what words are allowed. For now, I will simply wait.
“I’m sorry,” H’nah says, putting a palm to her forehead as if it pains her. “I’m not trying to be difficult.”
“You are not?” I ask gently, adding a teasing note in my voice.
H’nah looks up at me, startled. For the first time, she smiles in my direction…and her cheeks have strange, adorable little indentions in them. I am entranced at the sight, and I vow to see them more often. I must find ways to make her smile.
N’dek yanks on my braid again and I realize I am staring at H’nah like a besotted fool. I do not care. I am too happy she is speaking to me. That we have come to a truce of sorts, her and I.
“I’m just…really unhappy here lately,” H’nah admits after a moment. She bites her lip and studies me, then continues. “Everyone’s pissed at me and I need to get away. Not for forever, just for a few days. Just long enough to let things quiet down and everyone can forget that I like to count things and take tallies. Brooke and Taushen are leaving for a few days, going to some sort of fruit cave, and they said I could go as long as I bring a companion. Someone that can help me hunt and keep up with them, you know? I’ve been asking the other guys if they’ll go with me and I can give them insights on the other women, but I must be more of a jerk than I originally thought because no one will even consider it.”
It is because they know she is mine, and they will not show any interest—even friendly interest—in a claimed female. I am secretly pleased, even if I know she is frustrated. “I see.”
She glances at N’dek, who still hangs onto my shoulders, and then looks at me. Her eyes brighten. “Will you…go with me? Just as a friend? We can talk about our situation.”
Go with her? Away from the camp, just the two of us? She looks at me hopefully, and my body stirs, full of longing. Go away as friends? I choose to ignore that part…and the part where she asked me last of all the men in the tribe.
If I go away with her, I have a chance to talk to her. To touch her. To win her. I know I can.
N’dek shifts his weight on my back, and then I remember.
N’dek.
I cannot leave for days on end. N’dek needs me. It is my fault he is in this situation, and so I must help him out. The realization is a frustrating one.
“I cannot go,” I tell H’nah softly. “I am needed here.”
Her face, so full of hope, falls. “Of course. Sorry I asked.” She gives me another smile, but this one has no indentions, and walks a
way.
I watch as she leaves, my heart heavy. I hate that I have disappointed her. She has only ever asked me for one thing, and I have said no. That does not sit well with me. With a sigh, I turn toward the fire in the distance.
“You are an idiot,” N’dek says flatly.
I clench my jaw.
“Why did you say no? You have been moping for days upon days that H’nah will not speak to you. That H’nah ignores you and pretends you do not resonate. Now she asks you to go away with her and you refuse?” He slaps the side of my head and my ear rings. “Why did you say no?”
I push his hand away. I am trying to be patient with N’dek, but it is difficult. “And if I am gone, who will carry you when you need to go to the fire? Who will carry you back to your furs? Who will carry you anywhere?”
“Does it matter?” His voice in my ear is bitter. “I will be some else’s burden. All I know is that if you wish to mate with H’nah, you will never do so at this rate.”
I storm toward the fire, his weight on my back irritating and unwelcome.
“Perhaps I will ask to talk to A’tam,” N’dek says. “I will tell him to snatch up what you have discarded.”
I say nothing. I know he is goading me. I know I should not fall for it. So I calmly walk up to the fire…and dump him off my back.
“Oh my god,” one of the females says, jumping to her feet. “Are you all right?”
I do not turn to check on N’dek. If he has twisted his arm…good. It will at least give him something new to gripe about. I head toward the beach. “I will be gathering firewood if anyone needs me.”
7
HANNAH
The next day, I am completely and utterly desperate. Brooke and Taushen have their bags packed and even though I haven’t yet figured out what I’m doing, they’re waiting on me. Brooke took me aside this morning and I swore to her that I’d find someone to go with me.
Now it’s been a few hours, the morning’s getting late, and Brooke’s casting me worried looks and pretends to check a non-existent watch every time I look in her direction. I know they’re ready to go. Taushen has paused to talk to Raahosh while Brooke braids Tia’s hair, but I can feel the time slipping away. If I don’t produce a buddy asap, they’re going to ditch me.
And I doubt this opportunity’s going to come up again.
I wring my hands, looking around the busy camp for a likely target. Normally the main fire area is quickly deserted as the suns get high in the sky, because everyone’s busy. People scatter to do fishing, or tanning, or hunting. Today, though, everyone’s loitering around camp and that’s a good thing. It means I have a bigger pool to pick from.
I just don’t know why so many people are hanging around camp. Did I miss a memo?
R’jaal is sitting with I’rec and S’bren near the fire, and they seem to be watching a conversation that Penny, Sessah, and Tia are having. Flor sits nearby on a skin, working on a construction project of some kind.
I decide there’s no time like the present to ingratiate myself into the conversation, figure out what’s going on, and perhaps win someone over with an enticing trip to the fruit cave. Maybe Penny would work? She hunts, after all, and Brooke didn’t say it had to be a guy, just that I needed a hunting buddy to keep up with. So I plop down on the other side of S’bren (not my favorite person, but desperate times and all that), smile widely, and lean in. “So what are we talking about?”
The group gets quiet, and I swear for a moment, I feel like the fat kid asking to sit with the cool kids at lunch.
But then Flor wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Everyone’s been all tense so R’jaal said we should have games.”
“Games?” I echo, my heart sinking. “What kind of games?”
“Fierce competitions,” R’jaal says. “We had many such things on the islands. They go on for many days. We will also take some of your human suggestions and incorporate them so all may have a chance to participate.”
“Ice planet Olympics,” Penny says, excitement in her eyes. She claps her hands and I notice that all of the alien men watch her with interest…or watch her jiggle, at least, since Penny’s pretty busty.
“Our sa-khui ancestors practiced such games,” Sessah adds proudly, his gaze locked on Tia as she gets her hair braided. “Games of skill so we can prove ourselves in front of the females and win a pleasure-mate. It is how it was done before the humans arrived.”
“Sounds fun,” I say flatly, but it doesn’t sound fun at all to me. If everyone’s all excited about games, no one’s going to want to leave camp with me. I glance over at Penny, but she’s casting an excited look at R’jaal, as if stupid ice planet Olympics are the only thing she’s ever wanted.
I look around the campfire for a sympathetic face, but the only one who looks as sour as I am is N’dek, who sits on the far side of the fire, alone. He doesn’t look as if he likes the idea of games much, either, and I can’t blame him. He’s going to feel more left out than ever.
“Well, y’all better stand back because I’m gonna kick ass and take names,” Flor says proudly. She’s also just about the tiniest person here, and that’s not lost on S’bren or I’rec, who smirk with amusement.
“One of the games is a horn-lock,” S’bren says proudly. “Your fragile human head will be crushed.”
“Nope,” Flor says. “I overheard that headbutting thing last night and I’ve got a plan.”
Last night? I must have missed out on conversation, and I frown.
“What do you intend, tiny human?” S’bren asks, all arrogance.
“What God doesn’t provide, nature does,” Flor says proudly, and holds up the contraption she’s been working on. It looks like a leather hat with extra padding and a pair of short, spiky horns sewn to the top. “Tadaa.”
S’bren snorts with laughter.
“Go ahead, yuk it up,” Flor says, but she’s grinning. “I’m gonna kick everyone’s asses.” And she puts on the helmet, ties the strap under her head, and crosses her arms, staring defiantly at everyone.
I can’t tell if she’s being a clown or if she’s serious. Clown, I hope. These guys could break her with a hard sneeze.
“Dude, you look like you’re cosplaying a reindeer,” Tia calls out, all giggles, and then Penny and Flor both erupt in laughter. S’bren, I’rec, and R’jaal chuckle, too, though they don’t know what a reindeer is, and I glance around the group again. N’dek’s not laughing, but he is looking at Flor and her ridiculous helmet thoughtfully.
“Anyone not gonna be in the games?” I ask, keeping my voice cheerful.
They ignore me, of course. Sessah laughs and reaches out to tweak one of Flor’s “horns” and then the conversation moves on without me, discussing how best to handle relays and how to pick partners. I notice others are gravitating towards the merry group, and Raven leans over I’rec’s shoulder, listening in to the conversation—a touch that I’rec does not look unhappy with in the slightest.
Yeah, no one here is gonna go with me to the fruit cave. I wring my hands again and cast another desperate look around the camp.
Pretty sure it’s hopeless, though.
J’SHEL
I watch H’nah as she sits miserably near the fire. All morning, the camp has been abuzz with plans for the games R’jaal has proposed, and everyone seems thrilled about it except N’dek and H’nah. I understand why N’dek hates the idea—even as a young hunter, he was the most agile amongst us and now he must sit uselessly and watch as others show their strength.
H’nah does not look happy about the games, though. She looks miserable, and I suspect I know why. Everyone is excited to be in camp and will not want to miss this. That means that she will have no luck finding someone to run away with her to the fruit cave.
I hate that this pleases me so much. I should not want her to be miserable. I do not like the thought of her sadness, but I like the thought of her leaving with another male even less. So I stalk back and forth between the fire and the beach, as if bri
nging firewood is the only purpose I have in my life. My armfuls of wood are small so I can make frequent trips back, and I linger as I add more wood to the fire each time. Not that anyone notices—they are too busy watching the one called F’lor act silly. I have never seen R’jaal besotted over a female before, but I think he might like this F’lor. Or perhaps he just likes the thought of a female—any female.
I shove a piece of driftwood into the fire, and as I do, V’za comes to my side. The older hunter is sa-khui, from their village in the snowy mountains. He and his mate have taken on the duty of being Z’hren’s parents, and the kit is strapped to his chest in a leather contraption that holds him against V’za’s chest. Z’hren’s four little arms flail with excitement at the sight of me, and V’za surveys the encampment with his hands on his hips.
“What is all this?” he asks, curious.
“Games,” I tell him. “Tribal games of strength. R’jaal has proposed them.”
“Ahh.” V’za winces as Z’hren reaches up and grabs his gray-streaked braid, yanking on it happily. He merely pats the kit’s back and allows him to keep yanking, ever patient. “I remember such games when I was young. They were exciting. It is a chance to show off your skills to the females, yes? And perhaps win yourself a pleasure-mate for cold nights.” He grins.
“Foolish games,” N’dek says flatly, and a few of the others look at him with frowns and then turn back to the other conversation.
“Foolish why?” V’za steps toward N’dek, curious. “You do not enjoy them?”
N’dek clenches his jaw and I go still. Surely V’za does not mean to mock N’dek? “The humans cannot join in,” N’dek says after a moment.
“But why not? In my day, it was spear throwing and expertise with slings. Some horn butting, but that is mostly to solve disputes. Surely the humans can throw spears and hit targets?”
I relax slightly. If it is those things, then N’dek can indeed participate. “Our games back home were climbing and races of all kinds,” I say, poking at the fire.