LAUREN

T’chai’s not okay. I knew he wouldn’t be, but I also didn’t know how bad it’d be. His midsection is completely torn up, and he’s unconscious and losing blood. Both Mari and the infamous R’jaal work on T’chai, sewing up his wounds and cleaning them and making him comfortable in one of the huts. To my surprise, Mari’s been extremely calm. It’s like the moment she saw how bad her mate was, something snapped in her mind and all the hysteria went away.

Whatever the reason, her calm is good, because there’s so much to be done at the beach camp. Two of the other aliens—M’tok and S’bren—are badly wounded and covered in blood. M’tok limps and S’bren is favoring one of his arms, clutched against his chest. They’re still doing their best to work, carving up the carcasses of the dead animals so they can be dragged away from the beach. They can’t stay because every scavenger known to mankind—or alienkind—is going to show up to get a free meal. Even I know that.

My K’thar pitches in to help the others immediately. Despite their differences, it’s K’thar that helps R’jaal carry the gravely wounded T’chai back to the hut. Then, he helps the two others in hacking up the creatures, even though they all look exhausted and want to do nothing more than collapse.

But they can’t. There’s no one else to do it.

The realization strikes me hard. The work never ends here on this planet, because there’s always going to be more that needs to be done. If you’re in danger, all you’ve got is your own two hands and that of your friends. It’s a sobering thought and it makes me step forward to help. When the next hacked-up hunk of creature is cut free, I head forward before the badly limping M’tok can move to take it. “I can grab this one,” I say.

“L’ren,” K’thar says, a question in his voice.

“I’m okay,” I promise him with a smile. Of course, the smile hurts because Mari busted my lip, but what’s a split lip compared to what the others have going on? I’ve got four good limbs at least. “I know where you guys are taking this. I can do this.”

He hesitates and then nods.

It’s easier said than done to help, though. There’s no handhold on dead animal flesh, so I grab it as best I can and haul it down the sand. The thing’s heavy, slippery, and unwieldy, and I end up dragging it most of the way. The huts are located at the edge of a tiny cove, and we’re dragging this stuff to the other side. If predators come by looking for a free meal, they won’t be close to the huts and the wounded. I drop off my bundle and grab more, and then it seems like the rest of the day turns into hauling chunks, over and over again.

I’ve never been so relieved when the last one is done and there’s no more to drag away. K’thar takes me to the water’s edge and we both splash ourselves clean of the worst grime, and I check his wounds. His are mostly scratches. A few gouges look nasty, but when I try to fuss over him, he reassures me with a few words and gestures that he’s all right.

We head away from the beach to check in on the others. They look just as wrecked as I’d thought, and T’chai is unconscious and burning up. Mari holds his hand tightly in hers, unmoving from his bedside. The three others in their little tribe look grim and battered.

Out of all of them, K’thar and I came out of this the luckiest. It’s also clear to me that Mari isn’t going home with us.

It’s also clear to me that if we leave these guys, they’re going to struggle. Mari and T’chai are inside one hut. R’jaal has moved out and checks on the other two men, but they all look ready to fall over exhausted. I feel the same, and I’m hungry and thirsty to boot, but it feels wrong to ask for something like that.

A wounded arm and a bad knee are one thing, and I’m sure that the guys will manage to survive. But T’chai is going to need a lot of help, and I know from my time with K’thar that there’s a lot to be done around every camp. What if they need water boiled for T’chai’s wounds? That’s a fire and water to be retrieved before it can even make it to his bedside. What about food? Drinking water? There’s so much work ahead of them that my heart hurts.

“We can’t leave,” I murmur to K’thar. I don’t know how to say it in his language, so I try again with the few words I do know. “K’thar, L’ren no go? Help?”

He studies me and caresses my face again. “Go back Z’hren, J’shel, N’dek.”

I understand what he’s saying. He’s going to get the others. This tribe is going to need everyone’s help to survive for the next while, and we’re all stronger together. I nod at him. “L’ren stay here. I can help.”

R’jaal moves toward us and studies K’thar. He says something to my mate and they speak in low, hushed voices. I don’t catch most of what they’re saying, but the occasional word slips in. Here. Food. Females.

Both of them glance at me, as if trying to figure me out.

“I’ll stay here,” I say again, gesturing at the beach and the huts. “I can help with Mari. Help with food. I’m strong.” I lift an arm, flex a muscle, and pat my bicep. “Strong.”

R’jaal’s lips twitch as if he’s doing his best not to laugh.

K’thar just looks proudly at me. He steps forward and cups my face in his hands. “K’thar Llo,” he murmurs, voice husky.

Oh gosh, now I’m getting all worked up and it is not the time. “All yours,” I whisper back to him. “I won’t forget. Lo belongs to K’thar.”

He looks over at R’jaal, then back at me, and then leans in and gives me the fiercest, most toe-curlingly amazing kiss I’ve ever had. It’s a possessive, branding kiss, his tongue stroking into my mouth as if he’s claiming it for his own.

I’m left breathless and panting when he breaks away. He glances over at R’jaal again, touches my cheek, and then storms towards the trees.

I feel a bit like a fire hydrant that’s just been marked as territory, and I can’t stop laughing at the thought even though I want to cry at the sight of him leaving. So soon?

But I know it’s necessary. I know he can’t leave the others for long and he can’t stay here. The only thing to do is to bring the two broken tribes together and hope we can all support each other.

Doesn’t mean I won’t miss him, though. I touch my throbbing mouth and sigh.