Barbarian's Taming: A SciFi Alien Romance (Ice Planet Barbarians Book 9) (3 page)

Dude. She’s harsh. “I thought we were supposed to be roomies.”

“No one asked me if I wanted a companion.”

Well, she’s got a point there. I roll onto my side and ignore her, trying out the whole ‘wallowing’ thing. I have to admit, it’s pretty damn boring. I’m used to doing things throughout the day, not hiding. This isn’t going to work for me. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, and then I look over at Asha again. “So you’re basically telling me I need a hobby and that you already have the market cornered on ‘moping’ and I need to find something else.”

“Something of that nature.” Her voice is dull, tired. “Find something to amuse you.”

“Like what?”

She sighs heavily, as if the very act of answering me is exhausting. “The rest of the tribe helps each other. There is cooking, and gathering, and tanning…” Her voice catches and she takes a deep breath before continuing. “And there are kits to watch over while the others are out hunting.”

Oh. Hunting. I’m intrigued. I imagine myself with a bow and arrow, like Liz. She’s a badass. I’d like to be a badass, too. “You know what? I think you might be right, Asha.”

“Good. Now go away.”

F
rom my vantage
point 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.”

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.”