I toss the scale into the fire.

Someone snickers nearby.

This doesn’t deter Skarr. He crouches near the fire and warms his hands, and I go back to ignoring him, stabbing at the coals. They’re burning just fine, but I need something to do, so I pick up a frozen cake of dung and wedge it into the ash at the bottom so it’ll burn slowly.

“You are good with that,” he tells me.

I glance over, not certain if he’s speaking to me. “I’m sorry?”

He nods at the dung on the fire. “That. You are good with it.”

“It’s literally a piece of shit.”

“Yes, you are excellent with shit.”

Again, someone snickers nearby. I can hear Dawn mutter under her breath. “Dear god, this is painful to watch.”

“Your hands are big and strong for a puny female,” he continues. “You should be pleased.”

“At my man-hands?” I eye him. “Can you just stop? Please?”

“I am complimenting you. I am giving you game.” His smile is encouraging. “And I would love to pleasure you.”

Dawn snort-giggles, and again, I find myself wishing for a sinkhole. “Please be quiet, Skarr.”

“I am merely pointing out how capable you are,” he says. “What is wrong with that? You are my female. Is it so wrong to point out all the ways you excel?”

If he is, he sure has a funny way of doing it. I get to my feet, putting my stick down. That’s enough fire tending for me today. Skarr gets to his feet, too. “You want to play a game? With me?”

His eyes gleam. “I would love nothing more.”

“It’s called ‘keep away,’” I tell him. “You see how long you can stay away from me, and I with you. Whoever holds out the longest, wins.”

And I turn and walk away. I pray that it works, because if he keeps following me around and complimenting me on handling shit with my man-hands, I might have to murder someone.

Chapter Thirteen

SKARR

I am not a fan of this “keep away” game. It goes on for far too long.

We “keep away” from each other for the rest of the night. We “keep away” in the morning as camp is broken and we set out for the beach village. I went there with I’rec upon the drakoni’s back, and I know how far it is—not very. But the large group is not moving very fast. There is much to carry and the females take their time, wading through the snows. The wind is cold and biting this day, and ice pellets hit my exposed skin, making it a miserable experience. I wait for someone else to point out that this weather is terrible, that we should not go anywhere.

They do not. They walk on toward the village, and I have no choice but to go with them. Bah.

As the day stretches past, I grow impatient with the “keep away” game. I do not like to lose at anything, but I also do not like keeping away from my female. Vivi walks at the back of the rambling, spread-out group, talking to no one. I am at the front, because of course I am. They can admire my form as I saunter past, and I hide from no one. But it occurs to me that Vivi again is wiser.

She is at the back because she watches everyone else to learn their weaknesses. Clever. Very clever.

The winds grow colder and my fingers stiffen up, along with my exposed tail. It grows more difficult to keep my form loose and easy, especially when the frigid air rips at my leathers. I do not wish to show the others that I am suffering, though, so I make a great show of looking for my mate and drop to the back with her.

“I have decided I cannot lose this game if I do not play,” I announce.

“What game?” She doesn’t look at me, her tone defeated.

“This ‘keep away.’ It is a foolish game.”

“Mmm.”

When I continue to walk at her side, Vivi tries to ignore me. I keep watching her, because I notice everything about her, and today she seems…less herself. There is no spark in her gaze, no defiance in her shoulders. Her posture is slumped. I do not like this. “Something troubles you.”

Her mouth quivers. “Please, can you just leave me alone today, Skarr? I’m not having a good day.”

That is easily fixed. I grin at her, and it is so cold it makes my teeth hurt when my lips pull back. “Then your mate is here to make it better.”

Vivi says nothing. Her expression turns to one of despair and she swipes at her eyes. It takes a moment for me to realize they are dripping water.

“Vivi, you are leaking. What happened? What broke?” I stop her and grab her by the shoulders, peering into her face. “Are your eyes melting?”

She pushes away from me, her distressed sounds changing to ones of laughter. “My eyes aren’t melting! I’m crying!”

Someone glances back at us, and at my scowl, quickly turns away again. I focus on my mate, reaching for her face again only to be swatted away by her hands. I have seen the other females crying, of course. They sob and wail and make disgusting wet noises with their misery at being on this planet, but I did not realize that their eyes watered and leaked. It is all the more distressing that Vivi—strong, canny Vivi—is now falling prey to weeping. “You should stop. I don’t like it.”

Another incredulous laugh escapes her and she swipes at her eyes again. “Heaven forbid I do something you don’t like.”

“It distresses me,” I admit. “Are you in pain?”

Vivi shakes her head. “What, you don’t cry when you’re upset?”

“Bah, of course not. I am a gladiator. I do not get upset. I get revenge.”

She makes a face at my words. “Tears have nothing to do with being a gladiator. They’re because I’m feeling emotional.”

“And are you emotional because of me?”

Her mouth twists and she wipes at her eyes again. “For once, no.” She gazes off at nothing. “I dreamed of my father again last night.”

“Your father,” I echo. It is not the thing I expected.

Her expression grows defensive, her mouth pursing as she gives me a defiant look. “I know what you’re going to say. That I’m a clone. That he wasn’t truly my father…but the dreams feel so clear. So real. They felt like my memories.”

Truly, does she think so poorly of me? “I was not going to chastise you. I am envious of such things. My memories have no father, no family.”

“Oh.”

We walk in silence, and I tug the fur wraps closer to me as the wind seems to grow more aggressive with each step. My fingers ache, cold and exposed to the open air, but I cannot wear mittens, not when the other males are carrying spears to protect the females. I cannot hunt in mittens.

But Vivi seems less angry at me this day. Sad, yes, but not nearly as challenging. Perhaps she is seeing my worth after all. I continue to walk at her side, thinking she has picked a poor day if she wishes me to showcase my talents to impress her. My tail is half-frozen and my steps stiff. Hopefully no one else has noticed this. I glance over at her and she is still lost in thought. “What does your father do in your memories?”

“Hm?” She turns to me, as if surprised I am at her side.

“Your father. You say you dream of him. Doing what?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks are bright spots of color, but it is from the wind, I suspect. Even so, it makes her eyes sparkle and I much prefer that than the crying. “I dream about us going camping. Of us being in the outdoors together. And we argue, but it’s fun arguing, you know? Like we’re giving each other shit because that’s our way of showing affection.”

“You give each other shit?”

“Not like that.” She chuckles, and the sound is so lovely and unexpected that it staggers me with the beauty of it. She is oblivious to my awe, though, and continues. “When I say we give each other shit, we’re teasing. Giving each other a hard time.”

“Like how you give me shit,” I agree, pleased. I knew she was not immune to my appeal.

Vivi looks horrified at the thought. “What? No, that’s different.”