It’s crap.

I must be frowning, because Ereven gets up from the gift-giving and comes to my side, standing where Bek was not a few moments ago. “What is it, my heart?”

“It’s nothing. Really. I’m just in a bad mood.”

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

I gesture at the group by the fire. “You’ll miss the last holiday event. Are you sure?”

“I would rather spend the time with my mate.” He smiles at me and offers me his arm, something he has learned after a discussion of human courtship rituals.

I link my elbow in his and show him the blanket. “Bek gave us a present for our kit.”

“That is kind of him. He is a good male.”

There is that ‘good’ word again. Why does someone have to be good or bad? Why can’t they just ‘be’? I frown as we leave and head down the main street in Croatoan. The laughter in the longhouse trails after us, at odds with my thoughts. Asha has missed all of this, and I wanted her to get some of the credit for all of the work we put in. Instead, everyone seems to think I did it all by myself and somehow ‘took on’ the burden of Asha to boot.

“You are very unhappy,” Ereven says, wonderingly. “What is causing my sweet Claire to glower so?”

“Just something Bek mentioned.” I bite it back, but it keeps gnawing at me. “The tribe keeps going on and on about how I’m being such a good friend to Asha and taking the time to befriend her, and it bothers me. They act like it’s such a big chore to be her friend, but Asha’s never been anything but helpful and kind to me.”

“To you,” my mate agrees. “Do not forget that she has been unpleasant to many of the other human females since they arrived. They are allowed to feel differently about her.”

He’s not wrong, but it feels disloyal to even think it. “It’s just that…she worked hard on the holiday celebrations, too, and she hasn’t been here to see any of them. She hasn’t gotten any of the credit, and she hasn’t gotten to see any of the fun.”

“If she resonated to Hemalo again, I imagine they are having their own kind of fun,” Ereven teases.

“Ha ha,” I say glumly. “I just worry about her. They’ve been gone a while.”

“You want everyone to see her for the person she is, not the person she has been,” Ereven says, pausing to brush a lock of hair off my face. “You have a kind heart, my Claire.”

“Oh stop—”

“You can have a kind heart and it does not mean that Asha was difficult to befriend. They can be two separate things.” He taps my cheek with a finger. “It does not mean anything at all, except that perhaps your example showed people that they should have tried harder to pull Asha from her shell. They are grateful, because not only did they have a good holiday, but they will have an old tribesmate back. Asha is more like herself now than ever, and you are a big part of that.”

“I guess.” I still think Asha is the only one to take the credit for Asha’s recovery, but any way you look at it, I’m glad the tribe no longer tiptoes around the whole ‘Asha’ topic. Everyone does seem to be excited for her and Hemalo to come back. “I’m just a worrywart.”

“I do not know what that is.”

“It means I won’t be happy without someone or something to fuss over,” I tell him, squeezing his arm tight as we walk. “You might get the brunt of it for the next few days.”

“I will gladly take the brunt of your attentions,” Ereven says, and he makes it sound filthy and funny at the same time. “But until then, can I show you my present for you?”

I stop in my tracks, my jaw dropping. “You didn’t!”

His eyes twinkle with devilish delight. “I did.”

“But, Ereven, babe, we talked about this! We said we weren’t doing gifts.”

He leans in and touches his nose to mine. “I lied, my Claire.”

“Oooh, you’re the worst.”

“Do you want to see it?”

“Well, I’m curious now,” I grumble, but I can’t stop smiling. I’ll have to make it up to him…in a lot of different ways. He’s going to be in for a few sexy surprises over the next few weeks, I think. What a sweet man. I have no idea why Bek’s presents feel awkward but I’m tickled at Ereven’s thoughtfulness. I suppose because I know Ereven’s heart, and Bek is still a mystery to me.

Ereven is grinning with excitement as he leads me to one of the abandoned huts in the back of the village. It’s one that no one ever goes to and is used for storage—or so I thought. Inside, there’s a baby crib. It’s very much a Not-Hoth crib, made of carved bone instead of wood. The rockers on the bottom are two sa-kohtsk ribs, and the inside of the cradle is a leather sling and lots of furry white blankets. It’s a complicated, thoughtful present, and Ereven must have had one of the other humans sketch out to him what a crib was, because it looks just like a human one. “It’s so amazing. How…”

“Many, many hours,” he says. “Many hours imagining your smile when you see it.”

“It’s so much work,” I tell him, awed. The crib is put together with dozens of bones, and each one is smoothed out and carved to perfection. “But how—”

“Bek helped me.”

I turn to him, shocked. “He did?”

He nods. “He wanted me to know there were no hard feelings. He wishes to be your friend again—and mine. I think he has finally moved on.”

His expression is tentative as he looks at the crib and then back at me. “Do you like it?”

I turn and fling my arms around his neck. “I love it!” I press a kiss to his face. “And I love you. So much.”

As I move to the side of the crib and run my hand over the smooth railing along one side, I think about all the gifts I’ve been given—every single one unasked for. Maybe I’ve been interpreting the giving spirit wrong. All I’ve wanted to do with organizing the holiday was bring a little bit of joy to the monotony of the brutal season and to make people smile. To give them something to look forward to.

Maybe that’s all Bek wanted to do for me. Make me smile. Give me something to look forward to. He helped my Ereven make me a crib, wanting nothing more than to brighten my day.

It’s the thought that counts, and I feel like I have the most thoughtful mate—and the most thoughtful friend in Bek—out there.

I can’t wait to show this to Asha.

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18

ASHA

Days Later

“I see the gorge,” Hemalo calls over his shoulder. “We are almost home.”

After days of travel in the ice and cold, I am relieved. The thought of my warm, snug howse with its stone walls, cozy fire, and my thick furs is enough to make me beam with pleasure. I have enjoyed the time with him, though. It has brought us closer together and taught us to communicate. We have no one else to talk to as we journey, and so it forces us to speak to each other, even when he is prone to be silent and I am likely to be annoyed. To my surprise, speaking to Hemalo balances my mood, and I find that I can pull what is bothering him out of him with a mere question. It is like we are learning to be mated all over again.

The travel has been so slow—and so cold—that we have not had a chance to pursue our resonance. By the time we stop most nights, we are both so tired and half-frozen that even khui-induced mating does not appeal. Our khuis have been mostly silent—perhaps realizing our bodies are too tired—but there is a low hum of energy inside me at all times. It seems to be rising the closer we get to the vee-lage, and I watch him as we walk. I am fascinated by the way his shoulders move as he strides, and the slow, steady flick of his tail. Though most of his body is covered with thick furs, I spend a lot of time mentally pulling those furs off and admiring him. Underneath his leggings, his buttocks would be taut and deep blue, thighs thick with muscles. His hands under his protective mitts are big and strong, and I love the lines of his back. Dreamily, I imagine yanking off his tunic and finding him completely naked underneath.