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.”

“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 close 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.”

“But she is female,” one of the red a’ani says, confusion on his face.

The dark-skinned human female sitting next to him scowls. “Do not start that shit here.”

“What?” the a’ani says, bewildered. “Female fighters and male fighters are kept separate in the arena.”

“You’re not in an arena any longer!”

As they bicker and Mardok steps in, a small hand touches my knee. I look down to see blue skin and a golden mane—one of Liz and Raahosh’s young. She sucks her thumb, rubbing my knee, and then looks up at me. “You’re soft, like Kate’s kitten.”

I do not know who Kate is, but I nod slowly, not wishing to scare the little one. “I am.”

“Can I sit on you?” Without waiting for a response, the girl-child immediately crawls up my leg, moving onto my knee. Willa takes the bowl out of my hands as the girl tucks her small body against my chest and pets me. “Very soft.”

Willa chuckles, glancing up at me. “Should I be worried about competition?”

“No,” I tell her, even as the child pets my jaw.

“Aayla, don’t bother the nice man,” Liz calls out. “He’s trying to eat.”

“I’ll feed him, Mommy,” she says. “Just like Kate’s kitten.” And she takes a piece of fish from the bowl in Willa’s hand and offers it to me.

I have no choice but to take the fish from her, though I do so carefully. “My thanks.”

“Shhh,” Aayla tells me. “Be a kitten.”

Willa just giggles and holds the bowl out so the child can feed me again. And…I let her. I have never been touched by a child before, and this one is not afraid of me. It is a nice feeling. Her little hands are sticky and not entirely clean, but I eat what she offers anyhow and try to listen to Mardok.

“For the next moon, Cashol is going to be working on replenishing caches around the encampment. I want everyone to learn how to spot one and to set traps, so he’s going to be taking different people out with him every day. Salukh, Taushen, and Raahosh will be helping you build more permanent bases for your tents so you do not have to worry about side-walkers and sand creatures in your boots.”

“Hooray!” someone calls out, and there’s a rolling chorus of laughter.

“Because Liz and Harlow have their children with them, they’re not going to have as much free time. You’re going to need to work more independently, but they’ll be happy to help out and offer advice. Once their kits come, they’ll have even less time, so keep that in mind.” Mardok crosses his arms. “I’m not saying this will be easy, but you’re all smart and hard workers, and you’ll have help. If everyone pitches in, this will be an easy brutal season.”

“What about Hassen?” someone asks.

“I will be guarding Gren and Willa’s cave to make sure they are safe and have supplies,” the big mesakkah says. No, I realize, eyeing the differences between him and Mardok. Mardok is mesakkah. Hassen is sa-khui. They are the same…and yet not. And the little one in my arms, shoving a piece of fish between my fangs fearlessly, is something else. She is human and sa-khui.

I wonder what my child will look like. Willa’s curly mane and my fur? Her speckled skin and my teeth? I hope it is as perfect as her.

“That won’t be necessary,” my mate says, and squeezes my knee with her hand. “We’re staying here with y’all.”

“We are?” I look down at my beautiful Willa, surprised. I know she does not trust these people. But I do not see mistrust in her eyes. They shine with the firelight and with joy as she looks up at me.

“We are,” she tells me softly.

“Is the speech finished?” a human female with dark hair and a pregnant belly says. She touches her stomach and pants. “Because I think my water just broke.”

Everyone is distracted after that.