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Chapter 4

Ice Planet Barbarians

4

MEGAN

I visit the healer later that day, absolutely positive that sheโ€™s going to give me bad news. That thereโ€™s

something wrong with my body now, and that I canโ€™t carry a baby. That the aliens that got rid of my

last one did something to me and thatโ€™s why I havenโ€™t resonated. I brace myself for terrible news, but all I get are gentle smiles and reassuring pats. Maylak doesnโ€™t speak English, but even with our limited

communication, her answer is obvious.

Iโ€™m fine. It just hasnโ€™t happened yet.

Which is a relief. I leave the healerโ€™s cave feeling better about thingsโ€ฆand yet, still worried. I wonโ€™t relax until I resonate. Until Iโ€™m completely secure in my place here. Iโ€™m grateful Iโ€™m no longer a slave and that Iโ€™m โ€œfreeโ€ here on the ice planet, but at the same time, if these people get tired of me, thereโ€™s nowhere else to go.

So I smile and do more than my fair share of chores. I stay busy at all times, keeping a macramรฉ project in my hands so I always look as if Iโ€™m dutifully hard at work.

Who would have thought when I learned how to macramรฉ back in Girl Scouts that Iโ€™d end up finding it so damn useful? Yet here I am, macramรฉ-ing as if my life depended on it. Heck, it just might.

The day after I visit the healer, Iโ€™m sitting in the โ€œbacheloretteโ€ cave with Josie and the others, working on my latest project, when Cashol wanders in, an enormous dead animal slung over his shoulders.

โ€œDid someone ask for fresh dvisti?โ€ he calls out, grinning in my direction.

โ€œThatโ€™s definitely fresh,โ€ I admit, since he seems to be looking at me for a response. What, does he want a pat on the back for hunting? I offer him a faint smile. โ€œThank you, I think?โ€

โ€œThe chief said I should bring this here to your cave.โ€ He tosses the enormous, dead thing down onto the floor with a whump . โ€œSo you can have fresh meat and skins.โ€

Josie looks at me, and I can see panic on her face. Iโ€™m feeling a hint of panic, too. Weโ€™ve helped out with chores before, but this is the first time weโ€™ve had to process a kill on our own from start to finish. โ€œYou shouldnโ€™t have,โ€ I say, putting the belt Iโ€™m weaving aside and getting to my feet. โ€œReally.โ€

Cashol is undeterred by my tepid response. โ€œYou do not look happy. Is this not a fine kill? Look at these flanks.โ€ He slaps the thingโ€™s backside. โ€œSo much meat. This will keep you busy for days, yes?โ€

Josie looks like sheโ€™s ready to cry. She picks up a skinning knife and then stares at it, and I know how she feels. That small knife made entirely of bone and rock seems wholly inadequate for the task at handโ€ฆyet the sa-khui do it all the time, without complaint. It can be done. It just feels like a lot.

I feel a bubble of panic rising in my chest and shove a lock of hair behind my ear. โ€œUmโ€ฆ.โ€ I wring my hands thinking. โ€œThankโ€ฆyou?โ€

As if Cashol can sense my hesitation, his blowhard expression softens and he glances at Josie, then at me. He gets to his feet, one of those goofy smiles curving his mouth as he leans in toward me. โ€œMay I ask a favor?โ€

Oh god, what now? Thereโ€™s more? Is he going to dump this dead animalโ€™s friend on our doorstep, too? But politeness makes me answer. โ€œSure?โ€

โ€œWill you females allow me to show off my prowess for a bit?โ€ He pulls a knife from his belt and postures, and I get a mental image of dudes flexing to impress the ladies, barbarian style. โ€œI would love to show you my skills at skinning and processing a kill.โ€

And he flexes again.

A surge of relief courses through me at the understanding look in Casholโ€™s warm eyes. He knows weโ€™re intimidated and heโ€™s being a dork deliberately to make us smile. And heโ€™s going to help out. Iโ€™m filled with such a rush of gratitude that my heart flutters in my chest. I smile warmly at him.

Then, my heart flutters again.

It jumps in my chest so hard that I immediately go still, clutching at my chest. What theโ€”

It does it again, and then I hear it. Purring. Not gentle or sweet or hesitant, but loud and violent and demanding. My cootie is awake, and itโ€™s resonating.

I push my hand into my tunic, press my palm against my skin. Thereโ€™s no mistaking itโ€”my cootie is on fire.

And when I look up, Cashol is staring at me with a dazed expression, his hand on his chest, too.

So.

This is my mate.

Iโ€™m stunned with the realization. This alien man right here is my partner, my mate, my forever. Iโ€™m both relieved and utterly terrified.

This is what I wanted, right? This is my safety net. This is my ticket to getting to stay with the tribe forever.

Soโ€ฆwhy am I so terrified?

I hide my terror, though. I let out a squeal of giddiness and fling myself into Casholโ€™s arms, feigning happiness. In a way, I am happy. I am. โ€œItโ€™s you,โ€ I say to him, beaming, and I try not to think about the worry

and terror worming its way through my system.

I thought so much about resonance, and how much I hoped for it.

I just never stopped to think about what happened after .

And now Iโ€™m going to have to deal with a whole lot of after. But I press a kiss to Casholโ€™s mouth and squeal as if Iโ€™m the most delighted woman ever.

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