I nod sagely. “Even now, you give me shit. I approve.”

“No. I just—you know what? Never mind.” She shakes her head and grips the straps of her pack tighter. “It’s not worth the argument. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You said you have no family memories, but you seem more…with it than I am. You’re not freaking out about being a clone. You’re taking it all in stride. Why is that?”

I shrug. “Because I have memories of being a clone. I have always known I am one.”

“Is that what your memories are? Of being a clone? What does that entail?”

“Battle. Battle rules.” I pause. “Preparing for battle. Resting after battle. Training for battle.”

She makes a face at me. “Really? That’s all you have memories of?”

I do not know why she seems so displeased. I think they are perfectly good memories. Very useful for any upcoming sorts of competitions. “What else is there?”

“People? Do you remember anyone?”

“I remember ripping the head off of a particularly fierce opponent.” Ah, that was a good moment. How the crowd roared as his blood sprayed over my skin. It is my favorite memory, I think.

But Vivi makes a sound of distress. “I meant like a friend, Skarr.”

“Oh, do not be so concerned. He was very much not a friend. It was a good thing to rip his head off, trust me.”

The look in her eyes is soft and confused, as if she does not know what to make of me. “Have you ever had friends?”

“Like a partner in battle? I am a solo fighter.”

“No, like friends. Companions. People you enjoy being around. People you have good times with.”

“Bah. I do not need such things.”

“Everyone needs friends.”

Do they? I smile at her, because all the things she described are things I expect in my mate. A person I wish to be around? A person I wish to spend time with? It is Vivi. She is the answer. “I have you.”

She flinches at my response, though, as if she does not like it. “Oh boy, lucky me.”

“And lucky me,” I agree, adjusting my cloak over my hands again because they feel like ice. I nearly stumble but manage to catch myself before she notices. My foolish, poor knees are locking up in the cold and making it harder and harder to move. “But it is not luck as much as it is skill and our khuis acknowledging that we are the best specimens on this planet, and so we must make strong offspring together.”

She looks over at me. “You okay?”

“I am incredible. I am strong. Powerful. The best gladiator.”

“Mmmhmm.” She pulls a layer of fur off from around the inside of her cloak, one she had wrapped around her neck to keep it warmer. It is a thick, fuzzy square that looks quite inviting. “Here. Put this over your hands to keep them warm.”

Does she sense my weakness? I will not show it. Not to anyone on this planet. I eye the other males further up in the line so they do not notice me being handed furs. “Keep it. I do not need it. This weather does not trouble me.”

“Maybe you can just carry it for me, then.” She folds it in half and then drapes it over my hands.

The thick fur immediately blots out the bitter wind and my fingers immediately feel better. I watch suspiciously, waiting for her to call attention to my weakness, for her to point out that I have a flaw, so another will battle me and I will be forced to show my strength in front of her. After all, Vivi is the best of females, and she deserves the best of males, even if I must prove it time and time again.

But she says nothing. She has provided it simply for my comfort. A strange warmth spreads through my breast. She…she thought of me. She did something nice for me. Just because she wished to be nice. She does not mock me for my weakness and shares with me instead.

Vivi is my partner, as I’rec said. The realization humbles me. I did not imagine that a human female could be a partner to a gladiator, because our strengths are not equal. But this is not about strength.

This is about so much more.

I decide in this moment that if anyone else makes her eyes melt or makes her cry, I will destroy them. A protective feeling surges inside me so strong and fierce that my khui sings loudly in response, and my cocks nearly extrude from the sheath at my groin.

I beam at her, and I don’t even mind when she doesn’t smile back. She has already shown her loyalty. I do not need demonstrations. All I need now is patience, and she will fall into my arms.

I contemplate, instead, what other gifts I can give her to wear down her defenses.

Chapter Fourteen

VIVI

Skarr walks beside me for most of the day. I expect to hate it, because…Skarr. But it’s actually rather nice. He doesn’t try to talk to me constantly and is content to be at my side. And if anyone else tries to come up and talk to me, he drives them off. That suits me just fine, as I’m not in a chatty mood.

Dreams of my father—of someone’s father—are plaguing me. It’s making me crazy, because I keep dreaming about a man I’ve never met, and it’s making my head even messier. So I keep to myself and ignore the looks of pity that the others are shooting in my direction. Skarr and resonance are turning out to be part of a much bigger problem—how can I commit myself to anyone or anything when I don’t know who I am?

This thought bounces around in my head over and over.

If anyone else is having a mental crisis like this, they’re hiding it well. They gather near the fire—tended by someone else—and make camp, all the while talking. Some of the women are struggling with the cold and the activity, but most seem to be settling in well. Daisy chats with Sabrina and Dawn, making a stew from fresh meat, while others set up tents in the snow. We’ve picked a spot between a few bluffs to keep out the worst of the wind, and we’re told that tomorrow night we’ll be at Icehome Beach.

Our new home.

I don’t participate in any of this. I hover just near enough to the fire that it feels like I’m “there” and far enough that no one will talk to me. I listen to the others without really paying attention, and no one offers me soup and I don’t demand any for myself. Funny how I can stand up to Skarr and his preening all day long, but the moment I need to point out that no one passed the soup bowl all the way in the back to me and my mouth locks up tight.

As for Skarr, he is enjoying himself near the fire. He talks with Valmir about battles in the past, gesturing with an animal bone about stabbing something in the gut. Valmir looks as if he wants to roll his eyes, but there’s a smile on his face. O’jek listens nearby, shaking his head and butchering another kill.

“You just have not seen it for yourself,” Skarr says suddenly. “I know this. I have been near her ever since we resonated. She is stealthy but wise. Only a true fool would show all their strength at once. That is why she is quiet. She hides in plain sight.” The look on his face is nothing short of utter pride, and when he scans the group, I know he’s looking for me.

Oh no, not again. Not this weird crowing about how I’m the best just because his khui happened to pick mine. It’s downright embarrassing, and all the more so because it’s not true. I hunch my shoulders and try to look busy, fiddling with the straps on the pack I’ve carried all day (and now sits across my lap). Maybe if I shrink down enough, he won’t notice me behind Gabriela, because she’s tall.

“Vivi! Come forward!” Skarr says, a note of delight in his voice. “Let me show you off to Valmir! He does not believe me when I say you are strong and lovely!”

Oh god. The man is a walking, talking pile of cringe. I get up and quickly leave the group by the fire.

“Vivi,” Skarr calls again. “Vivi!”

I ignore him, hurrying a bit faster. I can’t go far—only an idiot would wander into the endless snows at night—but I want to get away, if only for a little bit. I head in the direction that we’re supposed to be using to go to the bathroom, pointing at a designated bushy area when I pass by the moden, who is on perimeter guard. If I pretend I’m hiding in the bathroom (so to speak) for a few hours, no one will come after me, right?