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The male snarls above, and I hear Sam chuckle as she nips my ear again.

It is not the last time the male asks about weapons. He suspects something. He watches us as we swim and eat fruit, but never makes a move to join us near the pool. He goes out into the snow several times and returns with pieces from his pod. He throws them down on the floor, his expression one of disgust as he watches us eat fruit and curl up together. Sam has been keeping very close to me all day, and as we eat, she sits on my thigh, her back pressed to my chest as she offers me slices of fruit.

"Can you two fools answer me something?" Kvasaht asks. "Where's your escape pod?"

"Far to the north," Sam immediately answers, and shoves a piece of fruit into my mouth so I have an excuse to be silent.

"Did you strip it?" he asks. "What about the distress beacon?"

"Broken." Sam shrugs.

His strange eyes narrow at us. "And you were going to be sold as slaves, right? How'd you break free of your collars?"

"We didn't have collars," Sam says.

The male just laughs. "You two are terrible keffing liars." He waves a long piece of metal at us, a piece scavenged from his pod. "I'm going to figure out your story and the truth behind it."

Sam just gives him a smile. "Look, you're safe, okay? We don't mean you any harm. This is a good place and we're happy to share it with you. We'll share everything we have with you."

"Oh, we're friends." He grins at my female, and there is something about his manner that I do not like. "I'm just trying to figure out your story so I know the kind of friends I have. That's all." He studies Sam thoughtfully and ignores me. "Though I do like the idea of sharing."

There is something about his words that makes me think he does not mean food. I get to my feet, carefully setting Sam behind me, and pick up one of the plucked fruit. I hold it out to him, a challenge in my gaze.

He just smirks at me with his strange snow-cat mouth, then turns and walks away.

I like him less by the day.

21

SAM

Being around Kvasaht makes my fingers twitch. There's something about the way he watches me that makes me feel hunted, makes me want to reach for my knives. They're all squirreled away in the cave except for the ones I have in my boning and the back-up blades I have wrapped in the hard soles of my boots. I touch the hard corset-like surface of my tunic as a reminder that my weapons are close and ready to party.

Maybe it's my imagination, but having Kvasaht around takes me right back to the Brad days. I feel hunted, and I could swear every time I turn around, he's eyeing me like I'm a particularly juicy piece of fruit. I should be freaking out. I think of the days past back on Earth, of hiding in my closet, sobbing, knowing he was coming to kill me. Instead, I'm calm but wary. Like I know the snake is going to strike, and it's just a matter of when.

The reason that I'm not panicking?

Well, two reasons.

One is that I'm not the same person I was when I was kidnapped from Earth over three years ago. In that time, I've learned how to use weapons. I've learned how to hunt. I've learned how to create my own weapons and take care of them. I know how to sharpen a blade and how to hold it to be the most effective. I'm prepared in ways I wasn't before. I'm tougher and stronger.

And I have a big, burly mate at my side.

Sessah shadows me at all times, giving me little touches to let me know he's nearby. His tail rubs against my leg when we sit close to one another. He keeps me company and just his big, calming presence relaxes me. I know I'm safe with him nearby, and he won't let Kvasaht try anything. His presence (and my knives) makes me feel like things will be fine, no matter what happens. That strange, unrelenting fear that has dogged me since Daisy arrived has evaporated. I'm actually looking forward to getting back to Icehome Beach and seeing everyone again. Of showing Sessah my hut and seeing if he wants to squeeze in with me or if we need to make a new one.

Maybe we'll go visit his parents back at Croatoan. I've never been. I've been too afraid.

For now, though, we have to stay put until we figure out what to do with Kvasaht. I sit above, on the main ledge in the cave, and pound a bit of fruit in a bowl with a mortar and pestle, pulping it for the next round of sah-sah. Sessah is down by the pool, washing out some hollowed gourd-like containers so we can re-use them. Kvasaht is in his regular spot—the pile of furs—and just watches us. Occasionally he questions us, but it's never about this planet or what we're doing here. It's always about who dropped us off here and how we escaped. I get the impression he's trying to figure out how to leave.

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