I freeze. "What?"

He just shakes his head at me and gets to his feet. He grabs the thickest fur off his sleeping pallet and holds it out to me. "You jump every time I speak. I will not hurt you, Ell-ee. Never."

I swallow hard and take the fur from him. "Sorry."

"Quit apologizing."

"Sorry."

He gives me an exasperated look. "I almost preferred your silence."

Is that so? I stick my tongue out at him.

Bek chuckles and points at me. "That is much better." He turns his back and waves a hand in the air. "Now strip. I will not turn around."

Strip? Out of my clothes?

"I can hear your teeth chattering still," Bek says with his back turned to me. "Strip and wrap the blanket around you. You will never get warm otherwise."

Oh. His words make sense. I drop the fur, tear off my frozen clothing, and then wrap the blanket around me. Immediately, the cave feels warmer, and I settle in near the fire. Long moments pa.s.s, and Bek remains standing with his back to me. I wonder what he is waiting for.

"Tell me when I can turn around," he says after another long silence. "I will not look at you naked, I promise."

Is that what he is worried about? I want to tell him that he is the only one that has ever bothered to clothe me. "Now."

He turns slowly and gives me a little nod of approval then moves to the fire. I watch him as he feeds more fuel to it, his big hands graceful and sure. For some reason, I am fascinated by his hands and the way they move. Maybe because they are enormous and strong, but he does not use them against me. At least, I correct myself, not since the sa-kohtsk hunt. Even then, he looked horrified at my bruises. I watch his hands move for a little longer and then tilt my head at him when he pauses, watching me.

"I liked your smile today," he tells me. "And your laugh. It was beautiful."

I say nothing, though I feel my face flus.h.i.+ng with uncomfortable heat. They are words I like hearing, but I don't know what to say back to him. That I like his smile? His hands? That I like the way he is warm? They seem like terrible compliments.

Bek lifts his chin and gazes at my head. "Your hair is still mud and ice."

I touch a hand to it, and it's a hard, nasty mess. I wrinkle my nose.

"Do you want to wash?" he asks me. "I can get you water. I promise I will not look."

"Why?" I shrug at him.

"Why? Because...some of the humans do not like it. They are shy." His eyes narrow. "And you are shy. I thought..."

"Most owners do not give me clothes," I tell him.

"Owners?" He scowls. "I am not your owner."

I shrug. "You bought me. Who do I belong to if not you?"

"To yourself."

I make a little 'hmph' noise. It will take a while before I believe that one.

Bek frowns mightily at me then. "I do not understand why you are so focused on belonging to someone."

Me? Is he serious?

He cannot be serious.

I stare at him. It occurs to me that here, on this sheltered planet where people hand stuff over if you need it, that they have no concept of money. Or slaves, for that matter. Georgie and the others were on their way to be slaves, I'm told, but none of them have had to live as someone's thing. Someone's possession. For the first time since getting here, my fear gives way to anger.

Real, intense anger.

I pick up my muddy boot and throw it at his head.

He ducks it-as I knew he would-and the look of astonishment he gives me would be comical if I wasn't so angry. "Ell-ee! What do you do that for?"

"Do you even know what you've done?"

Bek looks as surprised at my bellow as I am. "What have I done?"

"You bought slaves! People!"

He squints at me. "I had you brought here."

"You bought us! There's a difference!" When it's clear he's not getting it, I grit my teeth and try again. "Okay. How do you think I got here, Bek?"

"Cap-tan and Trakan brought you."

Those must be the other two blue guys. The jerks that had the collar on my neck. "Where do you think they got me?"

His expression grows uneasy. "From..." He pauses, thinking. "Other aliens?"

"And do you think I went with them willingly?" Under the blankets, my fist clenches, in and out, in and out. I can't believe I'm spitting so many words at him. I can't believe I'm so mad.

I can't believe he doesn't get this.

He hesitates, and I see a flash of understanding on his face. "They stole you," he says after a moment. "I remember Shors.h.i.+e saying this."

"Yes. Stolen. I was stolen when I was twelve. I've been a slave ever since."

He scowls again. "You are not a slave, Ell-ee."

I gesture at my boot. "Ask my shoe if it wants to be thrown in the fire."

Bek's jaw clenches, and he stares at the flames, not answering me.

"Ask it," I repeat firmly.

"You are not a boot-"

"Just ask it."

His nostrils flare, and he gives me an angry look and then glances down at my boot again. "It cannot answer, Ell-ee. It is a boot."

"That's right. It is a thing. It cannot decide. You own it, and so if you decide you want to take it and toss it into the fire, you can do that and no one will care. It's a thing." I gesture at myself. "Now, ask me if I want to be taken from Earth."

"Ell-ee-"

"Ask me if I want to leave my family and friends behind. Ask me if I want to go live in a cage where someone can feed me bad food or whip me or put a collar on me just because I am a thing. I am a thing that does not matter." I'm so angry I'm shaking. My entire body is quivering. I need him to understand this. To really, really get this. "Ask me if I wanted to come to this planet."

He recoils as if struck. His hand goes to his chest, rubbing the hard plate there. His khui is humming-mine is too-but the look on his face is nothing short of anguished. "You would not be here? With me?"

"I didn't have a choice, Bek. No one did. Not me, not Summer, not Gail, not Kate, not Brooke. None of us. We're given no choice, because to the people that stole us, we matter as little as that boot."

Bek stares at the boot in his lap and then back at me. His expression is nothing short of incredulous.

"You don't know what it's like," I whisper. "Every day, unsafe. Every day, scared. Every day, no control, nothing. Given from one owner to the next. You don't know what it is like." A hot tear slides down my cheek. c.r.a.p. I brush it away, because I don't want to cry. No one makes me cry.

"Then show me," Bek says quietly. "Show me what it is like."

11.

BEK.

Her tears hurt me. Normally it makes me feel frustrated and annoyed to see a female crying.

But my Ell-ee? My strong, brave Ell-ee? This...hurts.

My Ell-ee spits words at me, fast and furious, and it is clear she is angry. More than angry-bitterly upset. She needs me to understand this, and I am trying, but I cannot wrap my thoughts around the fact that a person would be treated so. That her wishes would be ignored. I thought Shors.h.i.+e and the others...

And then I pause, because I have not given it much thought. They always seemed so happy, and I envied them and their mates. But I remember now, Salukh saying that Tee-fah-ni has bad dreams. And I remember Claire always weeping when the humans first arrived. I was impatient with her then, thinking she was weak.

But now I wonder. Was she hurting and afraid? And I did not understand and was cruel to her.

My stomach churns.

"Y-you want me to show you?" Ell-ee stutters. "What it is like to be a slave?"

I nod. "Show me. Make me understand."

She swallows, and it is clear from her expression that she is considering my words. "If you are my slave," she begins slowly, "you must do as I say. You are no more to me than this boot." She gestures at it again. "If you do not do as I say, you will get the shock collar."

There is no shock collar, but I understand what she is saying. I am to put myself in her position, to think of myself as if I were her, enslaved. I nod. I am ready. I want to see.

Ell-ee studies me. "Stand up. Take your clothes off. Slaves don't get clothes."

I hesitate. She is magnificent in her fury-even if my feelings are mixed at the moment-and my c.o.c.k has stirred to life simply at the thought of undressing at her command.

"Shock collar," she says flatly.

"Eh? Give me a moment to think."

"You are a slave. You do not need to think. Now stand. Undress." Her words are cold.

I start to get angry, but I remember the pain in her eyes. I surge to my feet, frustrated, and begin to pull my clothing off. When my loincloth falls to the floor and I am naked, I stand straight. I do not want her to be afraid of my c.o.c.k, or the fact that it is hard. I want to rea.s.sure her that I will never touch her unless she asks it.

But she only flicks her gaze over me, uninterested. "Make me tea."

Not a strange request. I move to the fire and set up the boiling pouch, then sprinkle leaves in, glancing at her as I do. She manages somehow to be filthy and beautiful at the same time, still caked in mud. I want to tell her to bathe, to let me feed her. But if she wants to do this first, then we will.

I wait for the water to steam, and then when the tea is ready, I pour it into my mother's cup and hold it out to her.

She doesn't even look at it. "Are there leaves inside?" At my nod, she continues. "Get them out with your fingers. Quickly. I don't want my tea to get cold." Her tone is imperious and unpleasant, and I realize she is mimicking how her owners talked to her. Is this what my fragile Ell-ee dealt with? Every day? For turns and turns of the seasons?

I...do not like it. The task is an easy one, but the way she treats me...

I stick a finger into the tea, then jerk it back out again quickly. Hot. "I am going to burn-"

"Yes," she says. "But I'm bored of this now. I would give you the shock collar and throw the tea aside."

I scowl at her words. "Ell-ee-"

"Over there," she decides, pointing at the entrance of the cave. "Go stand over there and put your back to me."

I cup the tea in my hands, frowning down at her. "For how long?"

"Shock collar," she says again. "And for as long as I want you to. You don't have a say in things. You are a boot."

This boot is getting angry. I put the tea down carefully and then storm to the front of the cave, my tail las.h.i.+ng. I duck out and stand in the entrance, planting my feet as I put my back to her.

It grows quiet.

I cross my arms over my chest as the moments pa.s.s, and I wait for her to say something, to continue with this foolish, irritating game. She is silent. Too silent. I let a few more moments pa.s.s before I glance back into the cave.

She is in her furs, lying down, her back to me.

My nostrils flare and my arms clench. This is not funny. This is ridiculous, to have me stand out here, naked, and to treat me like- Like I am nothing.