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I’rec scratches at his furry chin, sighing heavily. “I just resonated and would rather stay near camp, but if it must be done, it must be done.”
“I am not leaving camp.” I shake my head at them. “Resonance still has its hold upon me and R’slind.”
“Finish first, then duties,” R’hosh says, as if it is as simple as that.
And…what? Leave my mate and go exploring every cave in the mountains with Set’nef? Abandon her on the beach with people that are strangers to her? While she has nightmares every night? “Not until R’slind is comfortable in her new home. We are not taking the other newcomers out, are we?”
I’rec kicks a bit of sand by his boot, his tail thrashing. “Only if you wish to babysit them. They are…a lot of work.”
I am curious what he means by that. “In what way?”
K’thar scratches at his pet, gesturing at one of the males lumbering past. “That one cannot keep a khui alive.” With another hand, he points at another. “That one stiffens up in the cold and cannot function well. The one with the cat face wishes to fight everyone. Another has resonated. And then there is J’son.”
“The human,” I’rec huffs. “Trying to prove his cock is just as good as everyone else’s.”
“He will get killed trying to prove himself,” R’hosh agrees. “They must stay for now. They are as foolhardy as the a’ani were when they arrived.”
Ah. I remember V’dis and T’hrand making fools of themselves to impress a female. It was, as Leezh calls it, a “damn mess.” “What of the females?”
“Scared. Frightened. Helpless. No hunters amongst them,” R’hosh says.
K’thar shrugs. “Yet.”
If they are anything like R’slind, they are unhappy and struggling with nightmares. “It would not be fair to push them too hard. If they are like my mate, they have been through much already and need time and a gentle hand to guide them.”
Now I’rec straightens, his shoulders practically puffing with pride. “F’lor has been helping the new females. You should bring R’slind to spend time with her. She is good at making people comfortable. Everyone loves my F’lor.”
He is clearly very proud he resonated to her. It annoys me even as it makes me happy for F’lor, because she is my friend and she deserves the best of mates. But my R’slind knows that I have a tricky history with F’lor. “Not F’lor.”
“Perhaps my L’ren, then,” K’thar offers. “I am certain she will befriend her.”
Twenty-Nine
ROSALIND
I poke at the fire in our hut, trying to keep it going. R’jaal told me he had to check in with the others—Set’nef and the ancestors—to make sure they are doing all right. I should probably be doing the same, but R’jaal insisted I stay inside where it’s warm, and well…I stayed in. I know I can’t stay in forever, but I want to hide away for just a bit longer. Some strange, unreasonable part of my brain feels like the moment I get friendly with the others, they’re going to lob some other bombshell on me. Not only am I kidnapped from Earth, not only am I a clone, but there’s probably some other nonsense they’re just waiting to foist onto me. Maybe clones can’t get pregnant. Maybe clones are made of spare parts. Maybe clones fall apart at year five…
I whimper at my own thoughts and press my hand to my brow. “Happy thoughts, idiot. Think happy thoughts.”
“Hello?” calls a voice outside the hut.
I jump to my feet, alarmed. Are they talking to me? I put down my fire-poking tool and tiptoe over to the heavy skin that covers the front of the hut. Sure enough, there’s a cheerful brunette waving at me a short distance away. She stands with another woman, this one with lighter brown hair pulled into pigtails and a stocky frame. Both of them are wearing fur-edged tunics with a long skirt and leggings underneath, and furry boots. Near their legs, two toddlers squat in the sand, staring at something.
“Um, R’jaal isn’t here,” I say, gesturing at the hut. “He’s checking in on the ancestors. I can tell him you guys came by?”
“Actually we came to see you,” the smiling woman says, pushing her dark hair back from her face. “My name is Lauren and this is Hannah. We’re part of Strong Arm clan.”
Hannah helpfully holds up four fingers and wiggles them, mouthing “four arms.”
Right. Strong Arm are the ones with the extra limbs, like the ancestors. “Yes, of course. Hi.” I manage an awkward smile and curl my toes against the wood. “Did you guys want to come in?”
Lauren glances over at the children playing nearby, then back at me. “Actually the boys are playing with a couple of crabs and the weather’s nice. You want to come out and chat for a bit? We promise we won’t bother you for long.”
