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Barbarian's Bride (Ice Planet Barbarians)

Page 10

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She nods. "Everyone's here. Okay, guys. It's just a short hike. If you can't walk, someone will carry you, all right? Don't be afraid to speak up if you're having trouble. If we're all good, then let's get moving." She gives us all a bright smile, as if it's taken care of, and then starts walking.

I stare after her as she heads down a rocky, snow-covered slope. "She's joking, right?" I whisper to the woman next to me. "I hope she's joking."

"I don't see a trail," the brown-haired gal next to me agrees. "But it beats staying here, right?" She shrugs and walks forward.

I'm not so sure it does. As I hesitate, I watch the brown-haired woman follow after them. As she does, one of the aliens peels off from their group and moves to her side. She stumbles a little in the snow, and he's right there to offer her a hand. Ah. So that's how it is. Even if we wanted to stay behind, I'm not sure they'd let us. Someone would “help” us move along. I purse my lips, watching as a few of the more injured women—including the cougher—are scooped up and carried forward.

"Do you need to be carried?"

I yelp in surprise, turning as a big alien suddenly appears at my side. It's the one wearing the furs, the guy that stares a lot. He's dressed more than any of the others, bundled up in layers. His long black hair is pulled back in a tight, long braid at the back of his head, but he has a nice enough smile…for an alien. He's smiling at me right now as I stare up at him.

"Should I carry you?" he asks again when I don't speak up. "Are you injured?"

"No," I admit. "Just cranky."

"Crank-ee?" He thinks for a moment. "I do not have this word."

"It means I'm in a bad mood."

"Why?"

I shoot a look over at him, wondering why he's so chatty. "I mean, you wouldn't be thrilled if you were in my situation. Look at where we're at. And the whole parasite thing? I'm not sure—"

"Ho," barks one of the other male aliens. He glares at the one trotting next to me and gestures that we should move up. "The female needs to join the others."

"I'm going," I mutter, wrapping the furs tighter around me as the wind rips at my face. The guy at my side melts away without a backward glance in my direction, and the one yelling at me scowls until I jog up to reach the others.

Some saviors. I feel like a cow being led to the slaughter.

4

DAGESH

Raahosh and Vektal cast me suspicious looks all through the hike toward the valley where the sa-kohtsk was spotted. I do my best to keep my head down and to steer away from the others, all the while my khui thrums and throbs in my chest, so loud and insistent that surely everyone must know by now that it is me that sings.

I must stay away from the females, lest I be sent away. So even though it is difficult, I force myself not to look at my female, the one that is crank-ee, the one with the sharp tongue and bright eyes. I want to talk to her more, but I tell myself there will be more time once she has her khui.

The females are gathered near a cluster of thin trees as if it will somehow provide them shelter, and only one or two males are left behind to guard them. The rest of us go to hunt the sa-kohtsk, to herd it into the valley and close to the females. The largest, strongest creature in the land, it is tradition for a sa-kohtsk to be brought down for a new birth, and the heart pulled free. Only a sa-kohtsk has many, many khui inside it, and we will take the strongest for a new kit…or in this case, the twelve females.

I glance over at the females even as we harass the sa-kohtsk with our spears. I look for my mate's soft brown mane—No-rah the others called her. No-rah. No-rah. I catch a glimpse of her, that stubborn, unafraid look on her face even as she braces herself against one of the useless, bendy sashrem trees. A female clings to her for support, and—

The sa-kohtsk pauses in its slow gallop, and Zolaya gives me a push, shoving me out of the way moments before the creature can flatten me with his foot. I roll in the snow, righting myself, and my face stings with embarrassment. A kit is hunting better than I am this day. I cannot concentrate, and I do not miss the irked look that Vektal sends in my direction. I am normally the reliable one, the sturdy, capable one that he can count on to do the job without fuss. He will suspect me now, but it does not matter.


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