Barbarian’s Taming by Ruby Dixon

3

HASSEN

From my vantagepoint up on a snowy cliff, I watch as Taushen wrestles to pull one of his nets out of the water in the valley below. He grabs a handful of the net, tugs, and then bobs and slips on the muddy banks. I stifle my laughter. How much sah-sah did Taushen drink last night? I saw him and Hemalo splitting one of the skins while sitting around a fire. At least he’s alert enough to have remembered to toss the soap-berries into the water before pulling his nets, or there would be fang-fish chewing on his boots right now. He picks himself up off the slushy ground and rubs his forehead. And tugs again.

And falls down again.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my laughter silent. Taushen is too young yet to know when to stop drinking sah-sah, though Hemalo should have known better. I wonder why they were drinking, then decide I do not care. I feel a stab of jealousy. It should have been me drinking with them, enjoying myself. Now I am nothing. A bitter fool who must hunt endlessly for fires he is not welcome at.

I try not to let it eat at my gut, but I cannot help it. The tribe was all I had, and now I have nothing.

Now I am moping like Taushen, I imagine. I cannot do this. An exile must always work. While they whine and drink, I hunt and feed the tribe. I ran across Taushen’s trail this morning, and decided to follow him after I saw the wildly weaving pattern of his footsteps into the snow. I have been watching over him to make certain he does nothing foolish or risky, but Taushen is smart. He stays close to the caves and checks traplines and nets instead of fishing while his head is aching and his reflexes slow.

I suspect Taushen is not the only one that drank too much last night and is moving slow this morning. I chuckle to myself as the young hunter tugs at his net again and then thumps down onto his bottom like a kit, staring out at the water. This is turning out to be quite entertaining.

I am so focused on Taushen that I almost miss the snow-cat that stalks nearby, slinking from the twisty leaves of a bush to a snowy overhang. I ready one of my bone knives, studying the creature. It is emaciated, fur matted, and the khui glow in its eyes is weak. Its movements are slow. Diseased, then, or riddled with worms and so far gone even its khui cannot keep it healthy. I watch it study me, then it slinks away. It is too weak to challenge for territory, and I relax my grip on my knife. A fresh snow-cat would make a decent meal for those back at the cave, but this one is not good to eat.

As I watch it retreat, a long, straight bone wobbles through the air and drops to the ground a short distance away.

I narrow my eyes, squinting at it. Am I seeing things? Is Leezh or Raahosh nearby? Was that one of their arrows? I have seen them hunt with the weapon, though, and trained with it myself. I know how to aim and hit my prey with one of the slim arrows, but that shot…it was not good. It would not kill the snow-cat even if the creature remained entirely still.

The snow-cat limps away, and in the distance I can hear a female letting out an angry string of strange human words. Curious, I get to my feet and crouch low, remaining in my hiding spot amongst the intisar bushes. Their spines pull at my clothes, but I nudge the leaves aside carefully, gazing out.

A figure swathed in many layers of furs moves through the snow. The form is small enough to be human, and curvy enough that I can guess which one it is. What is Mah-dee doing out here? Alone?

She wanders away, scooping up her arrow and then heading down into a nearby valley, presumably to chase the snow-cat she is hunting.

I glance back at Taushen. He is clearly not fit to be hunting this morning, and I worry I cannot leave him. At the same time, Mah-dee is alone and out in the wild. She will get hurt…or worse, if she corners the sickly snow-cat. I am torn.

I move back to the ridge and look over at Taushen again. To my relief, he has given up on his nets and is heading back in the direction of the tribal cave, a long, heavy fish slung over one shoulder. Good. That leaves me free to go and rescue Mah-dee from herself.

I turn back toward her and see she is already down in the valley, chasing after her prey. Her steps are slow and awkward in the snowshoes, and she uses the end of the bow as a pole to guide her. As I watch, she stumbles forward, planting face first into the thick snow.

I sigh and head down the side of the hill after her, stifling my irritation. Humans are painfully unaware of just how dangerous it is for them to be out in the snows. Mah-dee is more unaware than most, but she is also newer than the others. If this were Jo-see or Claire, I would have harsh words for them, but I suppose I must be forgiving when it comes to Mah-dee.

I hike down after her.

All thoughts of forgiveness and understanding disappear when she pauses in the snow again and draws her bow, and I hear a metlak’s warning cry, followed by the snow-cat’s howl. Worry thuds in my chest. How can one small human find so much trouble so quickly? I speed up, drawing my knives.

Mah-dee is brave. She swings her bow toward the metlak’s call, not backing away. Her form tenses, and in the distance, I see a metlak’s dirty, yellow fur against the snow. It crouches low, then calls again.

Mah-dee fires at it, but her arrow flops to the ground close to her feet. She mutters something in human again.

The metlak charges.

I bellow a response, leaping forward. I cross the short distance between myself and Mah-dee in a matter of moments. As a hunter, my duty is to protect, and I surge in front of Mah-dee even as she fumbles for another arrow. Blades drawn, I snarl at the metlak, daring it to approach.

Its snarl turns into a screech of fear. It turns and scrambles away, as I suspected it would. They are cowardly but vicious, and tend to run if confronted or cornered. It did not run from Mah-dee, and I shudder to think what it would have done to her if she had stayed in place and continued to try to fire arrows. The thought makes my stomach clench, and anger bursts through my mind.

Stupid human.

I chase the metlak a bit longer, taking out my rage on it. The creature continues to hoot and screech its fear, and I do not stop until I am certain it will not circle back to Mah-dee. I slow my steps and then turn back, scanning for the snow-cat or other dangers that Mah-dee might have stumbled into. I sense nothing, however, and relax enough to sheathe my blades.

Mah-dee is still standing where I left her, mouth open. The bow is in her hands, half-raised, an arrow resting. “What was all that?” she asks me. “And where’d you come from?”

“Did you not see my tracks?” I snarl at her. “Did you not see the tracks of the metlak before you charged into this valley?”

She blinks at me. “Tracks? I…oh. I didn’t think about that.” She looks back behind her, at the churned-up snow left from her snowshoes. “I guess that should have been obvious.”

My irritation swells even greater. Even the youngest of kits is taught to look closely at churned snow. “Who is with you?” I will knock that hunter on the head for being such a fool as to let Mah-dee run off by herself.

“No one is with me.” She lifts her chin defiantly. “I’m alone.”

“What? How?” There is no one protecting her?

Her brows go down and she gives me an incredulous look. “I put one foot in front of the other and walked out?”

“And no one was there to stop you?”

“Last I checked, it was a tribe, not a prison. And I don’t know if you noticed, but people are a little busy lately. No one’s got time to hang out with a bored human.” She says it in a casual voice, but there is a tension on her round, funny-looking human face.

An arrow slides out of the quiver she has on her shoulder—her shoulder, of all places—and I absently pick it up. “Why is everyone so busy?”

“There was a party the other day, which I know you know about, because I saw you there.” Her cheeks flush pink. “And then Maylak had her baby, so a bunch of people set off to hunt one of those really enormous creatures—”

“Sa-kohtsk,” I say absently, moving forward and untying the quiver from her shoulder. “This goes at your hip, not over your arm.”

“Oh. A sa-kohtsk, right. Anyhow, they need cooties for the baby. They gotta parasite him up. You know how it goes.”

I do not understand payr-uh-site but I do know how a sa-kohtsk hunt works. The delicate khui are removed from the creature’s heart and given to the newborn kit so he may live. Sa-khui children are born without a khui – they are native to this world and we are not. The khui burrows into the chest and wraps around the heart, lighting the eyes of the host. It keeps us strong and healthy…and gives us resonance. The humans are still not comfortable with the idea of such a thing living inside them, but those without a khui perish in a handful of days. “A khui is a good thing.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.” She shrugs. “And my sister and a few people are also going out to the fruit cave to go harvest and scope the area out. Cave’s gonna be pretty empty for the next while.”

“I see.” I tie the quiver at her waist and then adjust where it hangs. Mah-dee stands there like a kit, oblivious to how close I am. My head is full of warring thoughts. I am angry that the tribe has gone on not one but two hunts and I was not included. Of course I was not. I am exiled. I am not welcome until I have been punished enough that Vektal is happy. The thought burns in my gut.

I am also still angry that Mah-dee is out here, alone. No one thought to protect the human? To see that she is kept busy? Give her something to do? “And so you came out here because…” I trail off, waiting for her to finish the thought.

Mah-dee’s cheeks are bright red with emotion. She finally slaps my hands away and scowls at me. “Like I said, because it’s not a prison?”

“I do not know what this ‘pree-sawn’ is.”

“Never mind.” She sighs. “Probably wasting my breath trying to explain to you how I feel.”

“But it is acceptable to waste my time and endanger yourself by trying to hunt?” I give her a curious look. “Is this a human thing I do not understand? Do you enjoy endangering yourself?”

She blows out an angry breath and her eyes narrow at me. Her hands go to her hips. “Fuck you.”

I go very still. I have heard that human word before. They spout it from time to time, but I have dismissed it as babble. It was not one I learned when the Elders’ Cave taught me their words, but one I overheard Jo-see say to Haeden recently, in between kissings. Lust blazes through me, surprising in its intensity. I study Mah-dee. Under the furs, I know her form is lush and thick, healthy and solid. She is not built like tiny Jo-see, but strong and plump with good health. Her hair is a strange pale color, but her round face is appealing for all its human strangeness. I am surprised…and honored that she has chosen me as a pleasure-mate. “You wish me to fuck you? I accept.”

MADDIE

Mate with him?

“Wait, whaaaaaat?” I put my hands up as Hassen pulls me against him, and my palms slap against his hard chest. Oh, wow. He’s…really warm. I didn’t realize how chilly it was out here until I touched him, and now all I can think about is his scorching heating pad of a chest with the silky blue fuzz covering his body. My hands are on his pectorals and he’s hard all over, which is fascinating and makes my girl parts sit up and pay attention.

“I will make it good for you,” he says in a gruff voice. “Tell me how you like to be pleasured and I will do it.”

His confusing words jerk me right back to reality. “Wait, no, I was telling you to fuck off, not that I want to fuck.”

He tilts his head, and it’s clear to me that he doesn’t understand the distinction. Heck, with every moment he touches me, I’m starting to lose track of the distinction, too. He’s all muscly and sexy and warm and gosh, it really has been a while since I’ve had sex.

Actually, it’s been a while since someone has touched me at all. I’ve been so isolated and alone out here, and Lila’s occupied with her new man and I’ve felt…discarded.

I sure don’t feel discarded right now, not with Hassen’s glowing eyes burning into mine.

Slowly, regretfully, I give him another shove and push back, moving away from him. “I’m not having sex with you. That was a figure of speech.”

He frowns. “Fig-yuur of speesh? I do not understand—”

“It means I was saying something you took the wrong way.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“I meant you are being rude and annoying.”

He huffs at that. “Then why did you demand that I fuck you?”

Okay, seriously. The arousal I felt at touching him is quickly disappearing behind irritation once more. “I. Didn’t.” I grit out each word. “I was trying to tell you that I can do what I want. I don’t need to ask anyone if I feel like hunting. You don’t, right?”

Hassen gives me a puzzled look. “Why do you want to hunt?”

“Because I am bored. I am so damn bored.” I sling the bow back over my shoulder, irritated. “The other girls in the cave are all busy with raising babies or making babies. Everyone else is out hunting or gathering or whatever the hell it is you people do. Even my sister won’t let me join her because I’m too damn fat and out of shape.” I’m still stinging over that one. Since coming to the ice planet, I’ve been shedding inches like crazy because of all the physical activity. I thought I was actually looking pretty svelte, so to hear that I’m considered a burden hurts.

No, scratch that. It makes me angry. No one’s giving me a fair shake on this planet, all because I was a little temperamental when I found out my sister was stolen.

Hassen reaches out and straightens the bow on my shoulder, pushing one side back that probably would have jabbed me in the eye if I turned to the left. “I understand.”

That isn’t what I expected to hear from the big, muscly jerk that stole my sister and just tried to make out with me. “You do?”

“I understand boredom.” He gestures at the endless snowy hills around us, his face hard. “You think I do not get bored with no one to talk to? Hunting day in and day out with barely a word spoken to another? You think I do not long for company around the fire at night? I would gladly take Taushen’s snoring over the silence of being alone.”

“I…oh.” I suddenly don’t know what to say. That sounds awful, and yet at the same time, I can’t believe I’m having feelings of sympathy toward the douche that stole my sister. Because I know what it’s like to be ignored. I know what it’s like to feel like everyone in the world is against you. I know what it feels like to be on the outside and wanting desperately to be accepted.

I just didn’t think I’d be feeling kinship towards Hassen. I’ve been told over and over again that Lila was never in danger with him, that he only stole her because he wanted to take care of her and mate with her, but I’ve been holding on to a lot of damn anger over that, regardless. He tried to force her hand, and that was not cool.

But now I’m also seeing another layer below ‘cocky jerkbag.’ He still is, but he’s also…lonely and desperate. He saw my sister as a chance and he took it. I should hate him for that. Instead, I keep thinking about how warm his fuzzy, velvety chest was.

I must be an idiot. “Well, if you’re bored,” I say lightly, “then teach me how to hunt. We can keep each other company.” I twang the bow string that’s snugged between my breasts like a seatbelt. “I need to learn to be useful. Not just because I need to contribute to the food situation, but I need something to do.”

I don’t point out the thought niggling in the back of my mind: that I need to be able to take care of myself if I ever can’t take it and want to leave the tribe. I keep telling myself that will never happen, and yet I keep thinking about it. Because I don’t feel loved, or needed, or accepted, and I didn’t realize how badly I needed those things until now.

Hassen regards me for such a long time that I can’t tell what’s going on in that head of his. Is he thinking about teaching me? Is he thinking dirty thoughts about me? Is he…focused on the fucking? I shiver at the thought, because that’s another that won’t leave my head.

Stupid head, always holding on to the wrong stuff.

I fiddle with the bowstring again and his gaze goes there. I freeze, because now that means he’s looking right at my boobs. I hope he’s not wondering why they’re so much bigger than all the other girls here. None of the aliens are fat, and that would be a hella awkward conversation to have.

“I am supposed to be exiled,” he finally says, looking up at my eyes once more.

“That’s cool,” I say brightly. “I’ll just teach myself. No biggie.” I turn away.

He grabs my arm, and to my surprise, he growls—just like a bear. It’s weird…and it makes my body thrill just a bit more than it should. “You did not let me finish, female.”

“Pfft. Then go ahead and finish, male.” I turn back to him and gesture grandly. “Continue.”

Hassen crosses his arms over his chest. And okay, I really should not be paying attention to the fact that it makes his arms flex into the most incredible biceps, or that his pectorals are these amazing flat squares of muscle that are just begging to be petted again. “We cannot tell anyone that we are meeting. I do not wish for the chief to prolong my exile.”

Oh. Is that his only concern? I smile, relieved. It feels like he just agreed to be my friend, and it’s strange how happy that makes me. “Cool. So you’re going to tutor me after all?”

He gives a quick nod and studies me again. “But not with this bow.”

“Why not?”

“Your arms are not long enough to draw it properly. You are smaller than Leezh.”

That’s not something I hear often, and I preen a bit at that. I mean, clearly he’s not talking about our figures, because Liz just had a baby and I’m still larger than her, but I like hearing it anyhow. “Then what?”

He grabs my hand and studies it, frowning to himself.

“W-what are you looking at?” God, I sound all breathless. But him grabbing my hand has kind of thrown me for a loop. His hands are so freaking big, and I feel all dainty and girly next to him.

“You have small fingers,” he tells me, and it sounds like an admonition. “And small hands. Too small for my blades.”

“Are there extras somewhere I can borrow?” Part of me wants to pull my hand back out of his grip, and the other part of me wants him to stroke his thumb down the length of my upturned palm. Or kiss it. Yeah, kissing would work.

Oh, god, now I’m having weird sex fantasies about the guy that kidnapped my sister.

I snatch my hand out of his and he looks surprised, then seems to shrug it off. “The storage cave.”

I think of the layout of the tribal cave. There’s a room or two in the back of the ‘new’ wing—the area with all the rough-cut rock—where a lot of extra furs and bones and things are kept. “I think I know where that is. I’ll look.”

“We will meet there in the morning,” he corrects me. “I will pick out the appropriate weapons for your hand size and we will train on those.”

I want to object to his chauvinistic ‘I will pick for the lil’ lady’ attitude, but I actually don’t know if my hand size is going to affect things after all. Maybe I’m just being defensive. I look at the big knives strapped to his belt and try to imagine them in my hands. Okay, yeah, he might be on to something. “We can go back there now—”

“No. For now, I am going to take you home.”

Arrogant jerk. “Why?”

“Because there are metlaks in this area and it is not safe for you.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and slowly turns me back toward the direction I came. “So I am going to guide you home and then I am going to go and find Taushen and make sure that he made it back to the cave, too.”

Taushen? Huh? “Okayyyy. What time are we meeting in the morning, then? Because I have to warn you, my schedule’s pretty full,” I say flippantly.

“Schedule?” The way he says the word is funny, all drawn out and strange. “What is this?”

“It’s a joke,” I reply dryly. “Never mind.”

* * *

I fart aroundin the tribal cave for the rest of the day. Really, there’s nothing for me to do and everyone else seems so preoccupied that I feel awkward asking if anyone needs help. And really, there’s not much I can do to help with a lot of stuff. I don’t know anything about babies, or skinning, or fletching arrows, weaving, or any of that stuff, so I mostly end up sitting around the fire looking bored. Normally there are a few people sitting around shooting the shit, but today the cave feels incredibly empty. There are a few elders sitting around, and I can hear a baby crying in the distance. The fire keeps burning down to ashes and so I have to keep stoking it, which is…not something I’m good at. I end up shoving a lot of the big dried dung chips onto the fire and hoping for the best.

Which means that I’ve got a huge blaze going by the time someone drops by.

“Jeez, cold?” Stacy swings back through with her papoose and gives me a curious look. “Do you need more furs? Because stoking the fire that high won’t do more than just burn a lot of fuel—”

“It was an accident,” I say, feeling defensive. “I didn’t mean to make it so big. It just kept going out.”

“Oh. Well, you have to stack the chips really close together to get it to burn for a long time. That’s why some of them are bundled together.” She bustles over to the fire and uses a couple of the poking sticks to shove all the fuel into a tight, tidy little pile. The flames die a bit and settle back to a less-than-blazing roar.

“Thanks,” I say, and try to sound like I mean it. I hate that everyone’s constantly correcting me on how to do even the most basic of things.

“Of course,” she says, and the expression on her face tells me she is contemplating a strategic retreat from the fire. Damn, am I that unpleasant to be around?

I smile at Stacy, a little desperate for company. I pat one of the nearby stools, encouraging her to stay. “So what are you up to?”

The tension eases from her body and she relaxes. She doesn’t sit in the stool next to me but pulls up one across the fire and produces her frying pan from her satchel. “Josie’s been sick all afternoon, so I thought I’d make her some cakes. They’re easier on the stomach than raw meat. Or cooked meat.”

“Or that peppery dried meat stuff.”

Stacy wrinkles her nose. “Yep. So I thought I’d make cakes.” She pulls out her little pot of grease and rubs down the surface of the skillet, and I watch her. The skillet itself is pretty junky looking—a square with bent-up edges to form a lip, soldered onto a long metal handle with a bone grip. Where they got the solder, I have no idea. Stacy’s the only one with a skillet though, and that kind of makes her the unofficial cook of the group, just like Tiffany’s the unofficial gardener. They both have skills they’re putting to use.

I have nothing practical to offer, which is a real bummer. A bartender on an ice planet is about as useful as a runway model.

Stacy takes a chunk of the fleshy white root, dices it, and then adds a bit more grease and a few other ingredients I don’t recognize before patting it into a cake and then puts it on the skillet over the fire. “How’s your roommate?”

“The same.”

“She like the cake I made for her? Should I make her more?”

I shrug. “I can take her more if you make them, but I don’t know if she’ll eat them.” I don’t point out that she didn’t eat the last one. Someone’s here and actually talking to me, and I don’t want to scare her off. “You seen Farli lately? She usually hangs out with me.” The teenager is my best buddy in the cave, it seems.

“She went with the others for the sa-kohtsk hunt. Pashov went with them. Georgie, too.”

“Are they going to be hunting?” I try to picture the chief’s wife and teenage Farli attacking one of those things.

“Probably just going to help out and get out of the cave for a while before the brutal season hits.”

Right. Because winter is coming, yadda yadda. I’ve been hearing a lot about it for weeks now, but I don’t see how it can get much worse than it already is.

Stacy looks up and smiles at someone behind me. “Hey, Josie. How are you feeling?”

I look up as Josie drops onto the stool next to me. There’s a pale cast to her face, and her hair is limp and sweaty. “Awful. Did I say I wanted morning sickness? Clearly I’m insane.” Her hands go to her stomach. “Please tell me this doesn’t last long.”

“It doesn’t last long,” Stacy parrots.

“Liar.”

“You didn’t ask for the truth,” Stacy retorts. “Here, I’m making you cakes. Maybe you can keep them down.”

Josie puts a finger under her nose as if to block out the smell. “I guess. I wish Haeden was here.” She blinks back huge tears. “I hate that I’ve been sick all day and he’s off hunting. I need him.”

“Oh, honey,” Stacy says, voice soft. “You’re hormonal. He went with Maylak’s hunting party. They’re getting a khui for that cute baby of hers. You know he can’t stay in the cave and stroke your hair all day.”

“Can’t he?” she says wistfully. She looks over at me as if noticing me for the first time. “Did you not go out with the others, Maddie?”

“Didn’t feel like it,” I lie. Obviously Josie has been in her cave enough that she doesn’t know that I wasn’t invited. I’m not going to disabuse her of that notion. “Thought I’d stick around and hang out here.”

“It’s boring without my Haeden,” Josie says, sighing gustily.

Stacy just rolls her eyes.

“Having a hard time staying busy?” I ask. God, I know how that feels.

“Not in the ways I want to be busy,” Josie says with a pout.

“Overshare,” Stacy says, flipping a cake and then sliding it onto one of her plates.

“Oh, come on. I’m pregnant. Sometimes you get an itch and it really, really needs to be scratched. You weren’t horny when you were pregnant, Stace?”

Stacy holds the plate out to Josie. “I’m sure I was, but I’m also pretty sure Maddie doesn’t want to hear about your sex life.”

Josie takes the plate from Stacy and looks over at me. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s all right. At least one of us is having sex.” And for some reason, the moment the words come out of my mouth, I think of Hassen.

You wish me to fuck you? I accept.

I suddenly feel very restless. I think of the way his skin felt under my hands, the warmth of his body, how big and strong he was. How good he felt to touch. I shouldn’t be noticing these things about Hassen of all people. And yet. And yet.

I’m attracted to him, and I haven’t been attracted to anyone else on this planet. I couldn’t get past the horns and the fangs and the tails—dear lord, the tails. But with Hassen, I’m not thinking about that. I’m mostly thinking about pectorals. And how velvety soft his skin was.

You wish me to fuck you? I accept.

Is it…wrong to want to tap the ass of a man that kidnapped my sister?

Probably.

Am I thinking about it anyhow?

Oh, yeah.

“I didn’t think I’d be this bad when I was pregnant,” Josie is saying. “Like, I thought once the baby was in, I wouldn’t want Haeden to touch me until it came back out again. But oh, man.” She sighs dramatically and wraps her arms around her torso. “Being pregnant just means I need sex all the damn time.”

“We know,” Stacy says dryly, putting a new cake on the fire. “You’re noisy.”

“Don’t care,” Josie’s voice is cheerful. “It’s just that sometimes you gotta scratch an itch, you know? And lately, man, have I been itching.”

Stacy just laughs, but I say nothing. What Josie is saying is hitting me right in the feels. I’ve been restless and lonely ever since I got here to the ice planet. Is that what I need, too? Someone to scratch my itch? Josie looks so damn content and she’s been barfing all afternoon.

You wish me to fuck you? I accept.

Maybe…maybe I should have taken him up on that. The moment the idea crosses my mind, I don’t hate it. I don’t hate it at all. It can’t be a ‘real’ mating because we’re not resonating. I can’t get pregnant.

There’s no one to judge me, either. The aliens are pretty open-minded about sex. Heck, I’ve seen couples making out in the public bathing pool, leaving little to the imagination, and no one nearby batted an eye. I’ve heard people having sex in their caves at night. It gets someone a little teasing and that’s about it.

And to make it even more convenient?

Everyone’s gone. They’re out hunting or fruit gathering. The cave’s practically empty and will be for probably another week.

This would be the perfect time to get my ‘itch’ scratched.

Plus, there’s a bonus in that Hassen is exiled. He’s not supposed to be around. If things get awkward, it’s not like I’m going to have to face him constantly. He’s not going to be around the fire at breakfast. He’s not going to be hanging out during the afternoon gatherings. He’s exiled.

The more I think about it, the more I’m intrigued by the idea. I’m not opposed to a one-night stand. I’m sure not opposed to scratching the itch that’s been plaguing me lately. I mean, if I get laid and I relax? That’s a win. There’s zero strings attached.

Of course, I need to find out how he truly feels about my sister before I decide to claim him for my selfish needs. If he’s hung up on Lila, I’m not touching him.

But if he’s not…I cross my legs tightly, squeezing my thighs together. Maybe it’s wrong to focus my attentions on him. He’s probably the wrong guy.

But he’s so right in so many other ways that I can’t help it. I toss around other ideas in my mind. Taushen didn’t go with the others. Warrek didn’t, either. Hemalo. A few of the elders. None of those even come close to making me think about wanting sex. The moment I think of Hassen, though, it’s all that’s on my mind.

I could wait for the other parties to come back from hunting, but…I like the thought of the cave being so empty. It’ll give me the freedom I wouldn’t normally have to.

It’s right now or never. I glance at the entrance to the cave, but it’s empty.

Okay, it’s tomorrow morning or never.