"So you choose to stay?" Ereven asks. "I mean you no harm if it is me you are afraid of."

"Safe," I tell Bek, and he nods slowly. He doesn't touch me, either, and I am grateful. Maybe it's not the wisest idea to stay out here with him, but I want to. What's the worst that can happen? I ask myself. He'll betray me? He'll collar me and put me in a cage? I've been there before, and I lived through it. All I know is that if I go back to the village, I won't have this big warm hand to hold, and this safe feeling will go away. I hadn't realized until now just how hungry I've been for the feeling of shelter, of having someone to fall back on.

I don't want to let it go. I don't want to let his hand go, either. Maybe it's the exhaustion, but the thought of leaving his side and returning to the village holds zero appeal to me.

Ereven leaves, and then it's just me and Bek. He turns and faces me, his expression thoughtful. "Should you go back to the village, Ell-ee? Are you feeling unwell? My sister is the healer, and she can help. I promise she will not touch you more than she has to."

I shake my head, resisting the urge to hide under my dirty curtain of hair. I don't want to go back. I'm tired, and I like my hand in his.

"I worry about you," he chides me. "You fainted."

I swallow hard and then make an eating gesture with my free hand.

"Not eating?" There's a rumble in his tone like disapproval. "You are too thin as it is. Do you not like the food?"

I stare mutely at the ground. I tug on his hand. Can't we please just go to his fire and sit? I can't explain why I don't eat certain things. He'll think I'm stupid. Just like he probably already thinks I'm stupid because I smell bad and am dirty.

For the first time, I wonder if he's...disappointed in his cootie picking me as a mate. I hate that I'm even wondering that. I shouldn't care. It's not like I want him to touch me or kiss me.

But I do like his hand in mine, an awful lot.

He doesn't seem to mind that I've gotten all quiet on him again. He just squeezes my hand-which startles me-and doesn't press. "My cave is this way. Are you well enough to walk?"

Am I? I don't know. I keep my hand in his and take a few steps forward. I do think I'm strong enough to walk, but I'm so d.a.m.n tired. It's like all of my energy is gone, and there's two feet of snow on the ground to wade through. Lifting each foot feels like ma.s.sive effort.

"You are tired," Bek says, and his voice is gentle-gentler than I've ever heard it. "Let me carry you. I am strong." When I hesitate, he continues. "I will never drop you, Ell-ee. Never." The fervent tone in his voice has me believing him.

I nod, pulling my hand from his and then waiting.

Warm arms go around me, one sliding under my thighs. I'm startled at the contact, and it's like I can feel his touch all the way through my leathers. My gaze flicks to his, and our eyes meet for a long, awkward moment.

My pulse starts beating between my thighs again, and I feel flushed and hot. My cootie is so loud that my entire body feels like it's vibrating along with it. Oh. I press a hand to my chest to try and calm it.

"Ignore it," he tells me with a wry voice. "That is what I do." And he scoops me up and tucks me against his shoulder as if I weigh nothing.

And...okay. It's been years and years since I've seen a movie, but I remember the hero always grabbing the heroine and picking her up as if she weighs nothing. That's what I feel like right now-a princessy heroine who's just been rescued.

Even if it means I was rescued from my own silliness, it's kind of nice. And he's warm, and safe. I lean a little closer to him and notice that when I do, I can smell the spicy, clean scent of his skin and hear his heartbeat through the purr of his cootie. It just makes me want to snuggle closer.

G.o.d, to think I'm even contemplating snuggling with Bek. Bek, of all people. The mean one. The one that tackled me to the ground so unforgivably after the sa-kohtsk hunt. The one that grabbed me and brought me back to the s.h.i.+p. The one that bought slaves.

Except he hasn't treated me like a slave yet. Maybe that's why I'm all confused. I keep waiting for a collar, a slap, something.

But he only holds me close.

We're both silent as he carries me across the snow, but it's not an awkward silence. At least, it doesn't feel awkward to me. He seems content to not fill the air with mindless chatter, and of course, I have nothing to say. Even if I was comfortable enough to chatter endlessly like Josie, I'm not sure I'd have anything to say anyhow. Silence is easier, because the other person will rush to fill it. You can learn more about someone when they volunteer information. But Bek's as quiet as I am.

It feels as if he's been walking forever, and I wonder if I should protest and walk the rest of the way to help out, when he says a quiet, "We are here. Can you walk?"

I nod and slide out of his arms, though I feel unsteady on the ground. He puts an arm around my waist automatically, and I stiffen.

"I am not going to let you fall," he tells me in a firm voice. "You need support, and I know you do not want to be touched, but I am not going to let my mate land on the ground when I can help out."

He's right, of course. I'm being skittish. If it was anyone else, I would have gone after them with teeth and nails already...but Bek is safe. I don't know how I know that, I just do. So I let his arm stay as I wobble a few feet, trying to get my balance. When I'm good, I push at his arm.

Bek lets me go, but gives me a fierce look and hands me his spear. "Stay right here. Use this to support you. I am going to clear the cave to make sure it is safe."

Is there a chance it's not safe? I worry about that, but he disappears inside and then comes back out again within moments. "It is safe." At my expression, he continues. "Sometimes a creature will come inside seeking shelter from the cold. I did not want to risk your safety."

Oh. That makes sense. Using his spear as a crutch, I wobble inside after him.

The cave itself isn't huge. When I think of caves, I think of one that I visited with my parents when I was a child-full of stalact.i.tes and stalagmites and walkways for tourists. This one's just a mere nook in the side of a snow-covered hill, long and thin and not very wide. As I step inside, Bek crouches near a firepit and sparks rocks over tinder until a small flame starts. He builds it up while I stand awkwardly, and then he gets to his feet and begins to move around the cave. As I watch, he unties a few rolls of fur, spreading them out near the fire and indicating I should sit. From there, he puts away his weapons, sets a pouch for hot water over the fire, and then kneels next to me, gesturing at my sodden boots.

Right. Leaving my feet in soggy fur boots will only make them turn into blocks of ice. I reach for the laces that crisscross up the calf, and my fingers shake.

"Let me," he murmurs in a low voice. "You rest."

I fight against the urge to slap his hands away. He's trying to be helpful. It's just...hard for me to accept help without thinking there is something else that is going to be asked for in the future, a favor called in. Obedience demanded. I let my hands fall away, and then he takes over, carefully undoing the knots and making sure he does not touch me more than he has to. There's no sound in the cave except for the crackle of the small fire and the endless singing of our khuis.

And then my boots are off and my pruney toes are free. I wiggle them and move nearer to the fire. I pull off my outer wraps, and I'm not surprised when Bek moves to my side and helps me. One thing I've learned about living on the ice planet, it's that when you go outside for any length of time, there's a constant removing of sodden layers of clothing to exchange them for new layers of clothing. I remove my outer layers and then huddle closer to the fire, because it's warm enough inside the cave that I don't need to throw more blankets on until the suns go down and the temperature drops.

"You should not have come after Erevair," he tells me as he takes my fur wraps and spreads them out to dry. "Bravery is ill-placed when one is as weak as you are."

Oh, is it time for the lecture now? Lucky me. I snort to let him know I heard his words and extend my hands to the fire. My stomach rumbles and hurts, but I'm paying more attention to the cootie in my chest that's humming non-stop. It's making me feel strange, like exhausted and turned on at the same time. It's really not a fun combination.

"It is true," Bek insists, and then goes to one of the storage baskets at the back of the cave and pulls out a pouch. He moves to sit next to me by the fire, folding his legs under him with incredible grace given his size. His tail flicks on the furs, close to me but not too close, and he offers me the pouch. "Trail rations. It is not much, but I am not leaving you to go hunting until I know you are well."

I stare at the pouch, torn. I'm starving and still shaky, and I know that eating will help, but my stomach twists into a knot just thinking about it. What if...what if this is a trick?

Bek's jaw clenches when I don't reach for the food. He shakes it at me and then gives me an exasperated look. "Do you not like trail rations?"

I would eat cardboard right now. My stomach growls, betraying my thoughts, and Bek narrows his eyes at me. "Eat."

I swallow hard, because my mouth is watering. Everything in me wants desperately to eat, but I can't force myself to reach for the food.

"Ell-ee," he growls in his throat.

I know. I know I'm being ridiculous and scared. I fight back tears of frustration. Does he think I want to starve myself? I want to tell him off, to point out that I'm not stupid, but the knot in my throat won't let me speak.

"This is ridiculous," he says, words biting with frustration. "Do I need to eat a bite to show you how to do so?"

My head jerks up and I give him a look of hope.

His eyes widen. "Is that it? You need me to eat it first?" When I bite my lip, he takes one of the ration cakes and takes a hearty bite out of it, chewing, then offers me the pouch.

I reach out and s.n.a.t.c.h the bitten one out of his hand and cram it into my mouth, chewing so fast that crumbs are flying down the front of my leather tunic. I don't care. I just want to eat. The taste of it is extra spicy, like the sa-khui prefer their food, but it's delicious. I try to swallow and cough on the mouthful.

Bek hands me a waterskin and then hesitates, takes a sip out of it, and then offers it to me.

I shoot him a grateful look even as I grab it out of his hands and take a big sip.

"Eat slower," he commands me. "It does no good if the food does not reach your stomach." He pulls another cake out of the pouch, takes a bite out of it, and then offers it to me.

It takes everything I have not to s.n.a.t.c.h it away again. I force myself to take it from him gently, to take small bites. No one is here to s.n.a.t.c.h it away from me. I can take my time if I need to. I sip more water and nibble at the cake. My stomach hurts from putting food into it, but I'm not going to stop eating.

Bek just watches me as I chew. When I finish my cake, he takes a bite out of another and gives it to me, and we repeat the process twice more until he puts the pouch away. "I would give you more, but if you have not been eating, you will get sick. We will have tea, and then more cakes when your stomach can handle it."

It makes sense. I don't protest as he gets up and puts fresh-scooped snow into the boiling pouch, then adds a sprinkle of leaves. "Is this why you are not eating, Ell-ee? Because you feel others must eat your food first?" He looks over at me, his gaze intense.

I don't know how to explain to him, to make him understand. My throat knots up again, and I shrug.

"Is it because you feel the food is bad?" When I don't respond, he continues to guess. "Something else? You do not trust the food?" At my tiny nod, he looks surprised. "Has someone given you food and taken it away before?"

I gaze down at my hands. There are still remnants of grease on my fingers, and I have to fight the urge to lick them, because my fingers are filthy. All of me is filthy.

Bek moves to my side and crouches low next to me. He extends his hand, and I look at him in surprise. He just sits there, waiting, and I know what he wants. I suck in a breath, trying to be brave, and put my hand in his. His fingers grip mine, and his hand is warm. Rea.s.suring.

"Did someone give you bad food in the past, Ell-ee? Is that why you won't eat unless I do?"

With his hand holding mine, the knot in my throat loosens a little. "Sick," I tell him in a near whisper. "To make me sick."

His nostrils flare, and I shrink back at his anger.

"Who would try to make you sick? Why?"

I lick my lips, trying to be brave. "They thought it was funny."

His expression grows tight. "What is funny?"

Oh, it's hard to use words after hiding away from them for so long. I shrink into myself, not wanting to explain. It's hard to say things aloud, because a small, hard part of me still worries that my words will be used against me. But then Bek's thumb strokes over the back of my hand, and I feel a little better. "Humans...when we get sick, we vomit or sweat. Make faces. I had an owner that...he thought it was funny to watch. He would trick me by giving me good food one day, and then something bad the next." I swallow hard, because I can still feel the burn in my throat from those days, the taste of vomit on my tongue. I want more water...but I also don't want to pull my hand from Bek's comforting one.

His thumb strokes the back of my hand again. "So you eat...only when someone else eats before you?"

I nod slowly. "Safe."

BEK.

Her words make my heart feel as if it is being ripped apart.

Who would do such a thing? Who would make a female sick just to watch her vomit? Give her bad food to make her ill? It makes no sense to me. I do not understand this at all, but I know Ell-ee does not lie. The answer is in her big, haunted eyes and too-thin face.

I want to crush her against me and stroke her hair. My mate has been hurt in the past. If she lived in a place where even the food was not safe...no wonder she does not trust. No wonder she is afraid to eat. No wonder she looks at everything with such fear in her eyes.

And yet...this makes her quiet strength all the more remarkable. Of course she tries to run away. I think of Trakan and his collar and feel sick to my stomach. I think of the way I leapt upon her after the sa-kohtsk hunt and held her down so she could get her khui. It was for the best...but will Ell-ee see it like that?

I rub my thumb over the back of her small hand. So soft. So fragile. Even this small touch feels like a gift. Every whispered word, a treasure.

No one will ever hurt my Ell-ee again. That she is here with me is enough for now. We will take it slow.

"Would you like some tea?" I ask her. When she looks hesitant, I get to my feet and take my favorite bone cup out of my pack, the one my mother made for me when I was a small kit. It is one of the few things I have left of her, and I have never let another touch it. I scoop it into the hot tea and then lift the cup to my lips, taking a sip before offering it to my mate.

She gently takes the cup from my hands and puts it to her lips. Her eyes close, and her expression is one of such pleasure that it makes my c.o.c.k swell even as my chest aches. "Good?" I ask, voice husky. At her little nod, I mentally note the mixture of tea leaves and decide I will make sure she has it every day for the rest of her life.

Ell-ee finishes her tea slowly, and I refill her cup (after taking a sip of it myself). The pallor is gone from her cheeks, and they seem to be rosy underneath the layer of dirt. At first, I thought she was dirty because she was slovenly, but now I wonder. Is the dirt another thing she has learned because of her past? The other humans are quick to take advantage of bathing, but Ell-ee does not. I vow to find out, but it will take more time. And I will not rush her. She can have all of the time she needs, my sweet mate.

I will be at her side making sure she is safe and protected through all of it.

After she drinks her tea, she seems reluctant to talk more. That is fine; she has said more words to me than she has said to anyone else in all of the days she has been here. I take a bite from another cake of trail rations and offer it to her, and she devours it eagerly. I try not to stare at her as she eats, but it is not easy. I want to devour her features, want to memorize them for every small detail. Will she smile if she eats something sweetly pleasant, like the hraku the other humans are so fond of? I decide I will get some for her, along with fresh meat. Not today, though. I am not leaving her side.

She finishes the cake and fights a yawn.

"Lie down and rest," I tell her, picking up my spear and settling across from her, the fire between us. "I need to sharpen my weapons for tomorrow's hunting."

Ell-ee pulls the furs close to her and props her head up on one arm. Her eyes close, and I watch her for a moment before picking up my sharpening stone and running it along the thin bone edge of my spearhead.

"Can I go with you? Tomorrow?"

Her words are so soft I think I imagine them for a moment, but when I look up, she is watching me.

"Hunting?" I am surprised she asks.

Ell-ee nods. "I like...outside."

"Then we shall go together, if you are strong enough."

She nods again and closes her eyes.

I do not sleep much that night. I am too afraid that I will wake and Ell-ee will be gone. That this will all be a dream and when I open my eyes, I will be as alone as before. But she stays, and in the morning, she awakens, her eyes a little brighter than before. I smile at her and do not even mind her ripe scent because it tells me that she is here. I do not mind that her dirty fingers brush over mine, because we are touching.

I make Ell-ee tea, and we have more cakes for breakfast. She seems stronger this day, her expression more alert, and once we finish eating she pulls on her boots and begins to lace them to her calves, readying to go out.

"You are strong enough?" I ask her. "Not feeling faint?"

She gives me a firm little nod that tells me she's fine, and so I put the fire out and ready my weapons.

"Ho," someone calls from outside the cave.

Ell-ee stiffens. I want to groan in annoyance. It is my chief. If he has come to steal my mate away from me, I will... I look at her small form, her eyes wide, and I blow out a breath of frustration. I will let her go, I suppose, because I do not wish to alarm her. "Wait here," I tell her. "It is Vektal. I will see what he wants."

She gives me a little nod and remains in the furs, waiting by the firepit.

I emerge from the cave and head out to greet my chief. Vektal has a pack on his back and his oldest daughter, Talie, with him. I am happy to see that-it means this visit will be both friendly and brief. "My chief," I greet him.

"Bek," he greets me evenly. "I should like to speak to you for a moment."

It is on the tip of my tongue to ask if he is not shunning me this day, but I do not wish to be unpleasant in front of a kit. "Of course." I smile at Talie, who looks more like Shors.h.i.+e than her father today, her brown curls tied up in two twists atop her head. "Ell-ee is inside the cave. Will you go say h.e.l.lo to her?"

"Of course," Talie says in that direct, firm tone I have heard from Shors.h.i.+e so many times. She smiles up at her father, then releases his hand and races toward the cave entrance, all kit once more.