Sam's Secret (Icehome)

I…kind of wish he would.

It might make everything a hell of a lot easier if Kvasaht just disappeared, but it doesn't fix the problem that his appearance creates for us. He'll die if he doesn't have a khui in the next few days, but I trust him less and less as time passes. Waking him up was a mistake, and he's my problem now. I'm just glad he's nowhere near Icehome Beach, because there are far too many vulnerable people there.

I glance over at him, and sure enough, he's chewing on a piece of fruit, lounging in his furs and watching me with slitted, avid eyes. My skin prickles. He makes me so damn uncomfortable, and I'm not sure what to think. I don't trust my instincts—not after Brad—but I asked Sessah and he doesn't like how fixated Kvasaht is on me.

Then again, Sessah's been kind of growly and possessive due to resonance, so maybe it's all in our heads. It's so very hard to tell.

"So you and the big guy, huh?" Kvasaht practically purrs, his voice low and rumbly. "Did he buy you? Is that how he ended up with a human?"

This isn't the first time he's asked about me and Sessah, and it's obvious he's trying to catch me in a lie. I told him we were both prisoners on the ship already. "Like I said before, we were both in the cargo hold of the ship when it crashed. We were the only survivors."

"Both slaves?" Kvasaht inquires.

I shrug, pounding more fruit. We kinda drank all of the sah-sah so I feel obligated to create more for the next group that comes to the cave. It's a lot of work, though. Sessah is his father's son, and he's very particular about the recipe. He swears it'll be the best sah-sah ever, but the next time I come to this cave, I imagine I'll be pregnant. It's a little strange to think about, but I'm getting used to the idea. I think of Sessah's excitement at being a father, of him touching my belly as it swells with child, and I'm starting to anticipate the next chapter instead of dreading it.

"So how'd you two get out of your pods?" Kvasaht asks. "Because I happen to know that slaves are shipped in stasis. It's easier for everyone that way."

I freeze, holding my pestle tight. Wait, what? I go back to smashing fruit, not looking up from my project. "Not sure what you mean."

Kvasaht stirs behind me and I hear the rustle of the blankets. I hope Sessah's climbing back up here soon. My skin prickles with awareness, like I'm being watched, and it's a deeply uncomfortable feeling. A moment later, something brushes against my tunic. Kvasaht's tail. He's standing right over me like a creep, and I clench my teeth, determined to ignore it. If I turn around, I'm going to be crotch height, and I'm not sure if that's part of his plan.

I press my hand to the knives hidden into the stitching of my tunic. If he tries anything, I'm going to pull one free and stab the fuck out of him.

"I mean," Kvasaht says, leaning over and brushing a lock of my hair off my shoulder. "Your story doesn't add up, human. If you were both in stasis pods—as prisoner or slave transport—who woke you up? Is someone else here or did you kill them? That's what I'm trying to figure out."

I flick his hand away, determined to keep calm. Casual. "You're one to talk about liars. Who did you say dropped you here again? Remind me of her name? Mardok's friend?"

He's silent.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I say. "She didn't send you. You lied about that. You want to tell me what that flashing metal band is on your leg? Because it looks to me like a cuff of some kind."

He laughs. "Why, it's jewelry. You're so suspicious, human." He touches a lock of my hair again.

This time, I look over at him as I slap his hand away. I glare a warning, but he only grins, raising his weird, claw-tipped hands into the air. "If it's jewelry, prove it. Take it off."

"Can't," he purrs. "I made a vow. You know how it is." He slinks over to the fur bedding and sits down again.

"Bullshit." I grind with my pestle harder, wishing it was his face. My skin is prickling with alarm, but I'm determined not to show it. Kvasaht worries me, and I don't like that he was touching my hair. He's been here two days. How bold is he going to be tomorrow? The day after? I'm suddenly glad I'm knife-happy. In addition to the ones in the front of my tunic that look like seams under my breasts, I have three more knives in easy reach hidden behind vines. "Just do me a favor and stay away."