It hits me so hard that I stagger, my knees going weak.

This is how my Ell-ee lived every day. She is showing me. She is showing me how much it hurt her, how scared she was. How helpless and out of control. No wonder she does not trust. No wonder she covers herself in dirt and does not speak to anyone.

I crouch low on my feet, my head hanging with shame. I bought her. I bought her and all the other humans like they were boots. Like they were nothing. They did not ask to come here. I realize now why Ell-ee burns with resentment. Why Chail and the others look at me with hard eyes. Why there is such disappointment in the faces of Claire, Shors.h.i.+e, and the others.

I have made Ell-ee and the others...things. Things, not people. Things that do not matter.

My stomach churns again, and I vomit in the snow, sick.

I understand now. I understand, and I am sick at heart. I wanted a mate so badly I did not stop to think about what anyone else wanted. Ell-ee and the others came here, when they might have been taken home or taken to another place where they would be treated kindly. They were given no choice, just like they were given no choice when they were taken. It does not matter that my intentions were good, only that I have done the same thing to them that so many others have done.

I straighten, feeling tired and sad. I broke my mate's trust long before I even knew she was my mate. How can I ever expect her to forgive me? I turn to go inside, to face Ell-ee's anger.

Her back is still to me, her form small under the thick blankets, her mane a sticky, filthy mess clinging to her head. I watch her for a long moment, trying to think of what to say...and then I realize her shoulders are shaking. She is crying.

My spirit hurts. I move forward, back into the cave, and I kneel at her side. "Ell-ee. Do not cry, please."

She is silent, her body trembling with the force of her m.u.f.fled sobs. "I don't want to go back. Ever. No cages."

"No cages," I agree. "You will never go back. I will die before I let anyone take you from my arms."

Ell-ee looks up at me, her eyes huge and s.h.i.+ny. "Safe?"

"Safe," I agree, meaning it with every bone in my body. No one will ever harm her as long as I am breathing. "Always."

She watches me for a long moment and then emerges from the blankets and puts her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek to my chest as she tries to control her weeping.

I am stunned. She wants me to touch her after all she has told me? After spitting angry words at me and showing me her hurt? I hesitate, then gently put my hands on her shoulders. Ell-ee burrows closer against my chest, and I hold her close, stroking her hair.

"Safe," I tell her, and I mean it.

I hold my mate for hours. Neither of us speaks, and Ell-ee cries quietly against my chest for a time as I stroke her back. It does not matter that we are both covered in mud and filth, or that I am naked, or that our khuis are resonating wildly. This moment is about comfort. I hold her close until her tears turn into soft hiccups, and then silence. And I touch her, because even as much as she hates strangers touching her, my touch seems to calm her. It is as if my hand on her skin reminds her that she is not alone, not a slave. So I keep my hands on her at all times, stroking her arm, or rubbing her back, caressing her cheek. I do not make it about mating. For me, it is all about comforting my Ell-ee and making her heartache ease.

"Can we go sit under the stars?" she whispers after a time. "I need to see them."

"Of course." I am reluctant to let her go, but when we detangle our limbs and stand, she keeps her hand on my arm, as if wanting to keep our connection.

I grab a blanket and then follow her outside. She does not go far, just a few steps out from the mouth of the cave, and looks up. A sigh of pleasure escapes her, and then she moves closer to me, her hands going back to my leathers and holding on.

I sit down and pull the blanket around my shoulders, then gesture for her to join me. I expect her to sit next to me, but she crawls into my lap and settles against me, and I cannot escape the surge of joy-and l.u.s.t-I feel with her body pressing against mine. I wrap my arms around her, coc.o.o.ning her in my warmth and the blanket, and she puts her head back on my shoulder and we gaze up at the skies. To me, they are just stars, but to her, they are something more, so I try to see them with her eyes. Is it the colors she enjoys? The immense yawning sky? What?

After a time, Ell-ee sighs, her gaze fixed on the stars above. "My first owner kept me in a cage for a long, long time."

I frown at this, wanting to ask questions but biting them back.

"He had a zoo," she whispers. "That's a place where you collect live animals and keep them to look at them."

She pauses, and I wonder if she is expecting a response. "It sounds...strange."

"I guess it is. It's not fun for the animals." Her fingers play along my arm, feeling the protective ridges of my plating. "The cages were much too small for most of them, and mine wasn't big enough for me to stand up. They never turned the lights off, and we were kept in this big enclosed area that was always a little too warm. It smelled like dung and p.i.s.s and it was noisy." She shudders. "I hated it. I thought it was the worst thing possible until he got rid of his zoo and sold me to...someone else."

She grows quiet.

I stroke her arm. "What happened?"

Ell-ee exhales slowly. "My new owner was...mean. He liked to torture his humans. He liked to see our reactions."

I struggle to bite back my anger. "This is the one that fed you bad food?"

She nods. "Bad food, and that was just the beginning of it. Sometimes...I did not feel human at all." She goes silent again. "I don't like to think about it."

"Then say nothing." I hold her tighter. "I know you did not want to come here, but this place is safe. Cap-tan and Trakan says we are too far away from other worlds for most to visit. They tried to get us to go with them and said if we did not, we would never leave this planet again. We stayed, all of us. That means they are never coming back, and we do not have to worry about others. You are safe here. I promise this."

Ell-ee gazes up at the stars again. "You're sure?"

"I am certain." I remember how annoyed Trakan and Cap-tan were at having to return to give me the humans. I will never see them again. This I know in my heart.

She settles in against me. "I know the others think it's cold and ugly here, but...I like it. I like being outside so much. The stars are so pretty."

"We will come and spend time outside with the stars every night, if it pleases you."

"It does," she says softly, and I can almost hear her smile.

ELLY.

I've never noticed my own filth much, because I can't really smell myself. But mud? It itches. By the time I wake up the next morning, my scalp feels dry and scratchy, my head heavy with the mud in my hair, and my skin crawls with the need to get clean. The thought of sliding my dirty body back into a set of new clean clothes makes me shudder.

I peek over at Bek. He's normally quick to bathe, but after our stormy fight last night, I notice he's still wearing traces of the same mud. He's still down to nothing but his loincloth, and I'm wearing my blanket and nothing else.

Funny how I'm not scared of him. I ranted and railed at him last night about my time as a slave, something I haven't been brave enough to do in...well, ever. Normally I'm utterly silent because silence can't get you into trouble. But last night, I said so many things that my heart hammered in my breast even though I couldn't stop myself. I was both terrified and angry at once, and when it was all done, just...drained.

But I feel better today. So much better. Cleansed. I shared some of what's been bottled up inside me for so long and I still feel safe. Maybe it's time for me to get rid of some of my dirt. I can't remember what it's like to be clean anymore.

I touch my hair and look over at Bek, uncertain. His hair is pretty, for a guy. It's long and thick and black, and he has a few braids woven in at certain spots to keep it out of his face. I study his features. He's not the handsomest of the aliens, I think. There's something a little too harsh and unforgiving about the curve of his mouth, and the hard line of his jaw. His shoulders are huge, and so are his hands. He doesn't look cuddly in the slightest. But...I like that. I like that he looks so mean. It means people won't mess with him. It makes him safer.

It's also weird that despite resonance, I don't feel like I'm trapped or bound to Bek. Instead, it feels like I have a friend. Someone I can trust. If I have to spend every day of the rest of my life here in this cave with him instead of in the village with the others...I'd be perfectly okay with that. I trust him like I trust no one else.

And I still get that hot, achy feeling between my thighs when he stands and turns his back to me, his b.u.t.t flexing. I stare at it for a little longer than I should, fascinated by those bubbles of muscle above his thighs. He really does have a nice, firm b.u.t.t for an alien- He turns and catches me staring. "What is it?"

My mouth goes dry. My pulse is throbbing, and I can hear my cootie start up. "You have mud on your tail."

He grunts, accepting this. "I will wash soon enough."

"Can I come with you?"

"Of course. I would not leave you behind."

Oh, that wasn't quite what I meant. "Can I wash, too?"

He pauses, his gaze meeting mine. Then he gives me a quick, firm nod. "Of course. When do you wish to go?"

"Are we going to bathe...here? Or in a stream?" I know he normally bathes in a stream, but the thought of stepping into one with all those long-toothed fish makes me scared.

"Which do you prefer?"

"Here." I rub my arm and mentally wince when more dirt and mud showers off my skin. "I don't like the stream."

"Then we will do it here. We can check our traps later." He gets to his feet and moves to the fire, adding more fuel to it. "I will start heating water."

"Thank you," I murmur softly.

Bek pauses, tilting his head. "Do not thank me, Ell-ee. I am your mate. Anything you wish, I will make it happen for you. There is no need to be thankful. It is my duty and one I am glad to do."

Okay then. I curl up near the fire and watch as he puts the pouch on and works on filling it with snow. He makes several trips to fill it, and then gets out a small pouch full of what look like berries and small pieces of worn leather. None of it looks like soap, and I touch my filthy hair again, wondering if that will even work on my layers of dirt.

He offers the pouch to me, and I take it, hesitant. "Is this soap?" I should have paid more attention back in the village. At his nod, I pour a few berries into my hand and sniff them.

"That is not how you do it," Bek tells me.

I blink up at him in surprise. "What?"

"Was.h.i.+ng yourself. Rubbing them on your nose will not do much."

I stare at him. It isn't until his lips curve a bit at the corners that I realize he's teasing me. I laugh, because for a moment, I really thought he thought I didn't know how to wash myself. Which, given my appearance, wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility. "This really is your soap?" I ask, smiling.

"Yes. Shall I show you how to use it?" He fills a bowl with warm water, tosses in one of the leather rags to use as a towel, and then sets it down in front of me.

I can do it myself, of course. I'm sure I can figure out how to smash a few berries and make a lather of some kind. But there's a strange kind of appeal to the thought of him doing it, so I nod.

"Do you want to keep your blanket on?" he asks, moving to stand behind me.

It'll get wet, and I don't want to ruin a perfectly good blanket. I toss it aside and stand in front of him, waiting. I'm naked, but a naked body is nothing special.

At least, it's not to me. But as I watch, his jaw tenses a bit and his eyes flick over me before going to rest firmly on the bowl that he picks up. Is my nakedness bothering him, then? I watch him, curious. His cootie sings loud to mine, and I realize why he won't look at me. It's resonance. He's attracted to me, and my nakedness is making him think about...mating.

Funny how flushed that makes me feel.

Bek sets an old fur down on the floor at my feet. "To soak up the water," he tells me. "We will wash you from the mane down."

"Okay," I say softly, clasping my hands in front of my b.r.e.a.s.t.s so my arms stay out of his way.

"Close your eyes."

I do, and in the next moment, I feel warm water dribbling down my scalp, along with the wash-towel. He moves it over the muddy clumps of my hair, loosening the dried mud, and when it's damp, he tells me to hold still and begins to work the biggest lumps out of my hair. I remain still, keeping my eyes shut, and I pay attention to my senses. I can feel his warmth as he stands close to me, his chest bare. I smell a hint of leather and sweat when he moves, but it's a good smell. I like it. The rumble of his khui washes over me as his hands move through my hair, gently detangling, and every so often, his skin brushes against mine. It's like he's covered in velvet, and it feels good. I want to rub up against him...of course, I should probably wait to do that until I'm clean.

"I am crus.h.i.+ng the berries to put in your hair," he tells me, voice soft. "It forms a lather that is good for cleaning, but your hair is so dirty it might need more than one was.h.i.+ng. After that, I will comb it for you."

He will? Why do I like the sound of that? "Thank you."

Bek grunts. "Do not thank me. You are my mate. I do this because I enjoy it."

"So...no thanking, and no apologies."

"Correct."

I think for a moment and then squeeze one eye open. "Move faster, slowpoke."

He shoots me a look of astonishment, and then a slow grin spreads across his face. I'm smiling, too, because I can joke with someone for the first time in what feels like forever...and it's okay. Gosh, what a good feeling.

"Eyes closed unless you want soap in them," he commands, and I obey. A moment later, I smell the thick scent of something fruity, and then his hands begin to move through my hair again. His fingertips rub against my scalp, and I can feel the foam growing thick, sliding down my forehead. He swipes it away with a finger and goes back to ma.s.saging my head, and I want to moan with how good it feels.

I love this.

"Are you all right?" Bek asks. "Tell me if it is too much for you."

"Fine," I tell him shyly. My nipples are getting hard, and I want to cover them for some reason. He's seen me naked, but we're standing so close I don't want them to brush against his chest. Actually, I kind of do, but I don't know how that's going to make me feel. I get all s.h.i.+very just thinking about it.

"Tilt your head back," he murmurs to me, so close that I can practically feel his breath on my skin. "I will rinse your hair, and then we will wash it again."

I do, and I feel the water splattering down my hair and my back. It's getting all over the floor, but Bek doesn't seem to care, so I don't either. My head feels lighter, and by the time he finishes was.h.i.+ng my hair a second time, it smells fruity and clean. He gets more water and then takes the cloth and carefully wipes every inch of me with the soapy rag, going over my skin repeatedly to get it clean. I keep my eyes closed, just enjoying his touch and the rare sensation of someone caring for me. He goes over my face, my neck, my arms...but then he swipes the towel over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and my body breaks out in gooseflesh. I can't stop the gasp that escapes me, and I open my eyes.

Bek's intense gaze meets mine. "It is just to get clean," he says, voice hoa.r.s.e. "I will never touch you without permission."

I nod, because I'm not sure what else to say. Is it bad that I want to rub up against him again?

Hours later, I'm so clean that I feel like a different person. I can't stop touching my soft skin, and sometimes I see my arm move and it's so pale I'm not even sure it's mine. Some of the worst snarls had to be cut out of my hair, and so we used Bek's knife to chop it to my shoulders, but the result is baby-fine, soft reddish-brown hair that I vaguely remember from my childhood. I like it. It feels so light and airy that I run my fingers through it, scarcely believing it's my own hair.

And Bek? Bek can't stop staring at me.

I notice it as I slip a clean tunic over my head and go to sit by the fire. He busies himself around me, mopping up the floor and tossing out dirty water, but every time he glances in my direction, he seems to stare for an extra long time, studying my face.

"What?" I finally ask, uncertain and shy. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," he practically growls at me.

Nervous, I start to pull my hair over my face, to hide it.

"Do not," he says quietly. He moves to my side and squats down beside me. With gentle hands, he brushes my hair back from my face and tucks it behind my ears. "I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I only stare because...you look different."

"Oh."