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“My maman,” I replied, accepting the bowls of food he offered me. Two at first, since he was unaware that I was fetching Maman’s as well. I was grateful that he fed Simon without complaint, even with Simon’s surly attitude not making him any friends thus far.

“Is she sick? Do you want me to bring her meals to her instead?” Patrick asked. He was a good man, kind and thoughtful, and he’d taken over for Yamileth in making deliveries of meals to tributes and those too sick to join the clan after he began working alongside her.

“I am not sick,” Maman carped, stepping into the tent. I sighed heavily, and she poked me in the side in retribution. “I am not so old that I cannot fetch my own meals. Do not make it seem otherwise.”

“You should not have to,” I argued. “You need your rest.”

She and Yamileth both gave me dirty looks, and I had no choice but to back down. I would not win with both of them there.

“We will discuss this later,” I said, to end the argument. Perhaps I could convince Simon to eat with her. She enjoyed his company, and he seemed to like spending time with her as well. That wouldn’t work in the mornings, since Maman rose as early as I did and Simon liked to sleep in, but for other meals, I might be able to get her to rest more.

“Go. Feed your tribute,” Yamileth demanded, shooing me away. “When will you introduce him to the clan?”

My face gave away my distaste, and Maman laughed.

“He does not wish to. He is not wrong to keep Simon close. He is a little devil with a sweet face. His snark will upset any who take him seriously.”

Yamileth raised her eyebrows, curious. “Truly? Why have I not met him yet?”

They continued to discuss introducing Yamileth to Simon. I did not admit out loud that it was not Simon’s attitude that made me keep him apart from the clan. I was being selfish. I wanted more time with him without anyone else luring him away. Each time I introduced my tribute to the clan, they left. I didn’t want to lose Simon, too.

SIMON

Waking up after really good sex put me in a better mood than usual when I got up the second time. The first time, I had intended to just roll over and go back to sleep, but I was cuddled against the gorgeous giant, and I needed to test my theory. I thought maybe I’d reacted so strongly to him because I was worked up after a week without sex. That would explain why I came untouched. But even without foreplay and a quick prep on my part, it happened again the next morning. I was stunned at how quickly I came, too. I could last hours if clients wished it. I was only ever quick if that’s what they requested. But a few minutes being fucked with that gorgeous dick, and I was coming like a virgin riding their first cock.

It was embarrassing.

I had been having sex for more than half my life. I didn’t react like this. I enjoyed it, I had my fun, but I didn’t lose control like that. And I never came untouched. What was it about this barbarian that set me aflame?

A little disgruntled with my reaction, I almost didn’t notice that Feigrind was not in the tent with me. There was a bowl of food on the table, he’d cleaned up our clothes that had been scattered everywhere, but he was nowhere to be seen. It stung alittle. I knew my place. Men were only interested in me for sex. But I’ll admit, I’d thought Feigrind would be different. At least kind enough to pretend that wasn’t all I was good for.

The sated, happy energy I’d woken up with disappeared and, in a petulant protest to his actions, I snagged the bowl of food and brought it back with me to the furs to eat. He wasn’t around to chastise me, so I could do what I wanted.

I was halfway through my meal when Feigrind came back. He carried a heavy pot that had steam coming out of the top. I was still mad at him, so I didn’t ask, but I was curious.

He set the pot aside, raising an eyebrow at me. “If you make a mess, you’ll regret it.”

“Unlike some people, I don’t eat like an animal,” I snapped. “Where did you go?”

I didn’t want to sound so hurt, but it came out that way, and Feigrind’s face softened. He gestured to the pot.

“You do not like bathing in the river. I worry when your lips turn blue. So I heated water for you instead. I do not have your fancy products for bathing, but at least you will be warm.”

Surprised, I sat a little straighter. “You warmed water for me?”

It was a thoughtful gesture, one I didn’t expect, and I wasn’t sure how to react. I’d been so determined to be angry with him, but he’d been gone only because he was doing something sweet for me. What did I even say to that?

“Your happiness is important to me,” he replied, and my heart stuttered in my chest. No one had ever cared much about my happiness before.

The rush of fluttery emotions that exploded in my stomach made me uncomfortable, and I had to look away from the earnest expression on his face. I mumbled a quiet thank you and moved to put my food down so that I could get clean before the water cooled too much. Feigrind gave me a cloth and a freshbar of soap, moving a rug out of the way so the water wouldn’t make a mess. I took my time cleaning every inch of me and sighed happily as the warmth sank into my skin. It was chilly this far north, and I only ever felt truly warm buried in the furs or wrapped in Feigrind’s arms. I didn’t want to get too used to that feeling either. I didn’t want him somehow convincing me to stay.

Fifteen

SIMON

Feigrind was pulled away a little after lunch by another warrior. He left me with Maman, like usual, and she immediately started chattering about the work that needed to be done. I was getting better at pot making, so she demanded I help her. I didn’t mind, since it was better than just sitting around questioning myself. I was spending too much time in my head, wondering if I truly wanted to go back or if I wanted to stay here with Feigrind. I wasn’t going to let him sway me. This wasn’t where I belonged. And a beautiful cock wasn’t going to make me abandon my home or my creature comforts. Any more bar soap in my hair and it’d dry out. Then I’d really have something to bitch about.

“Why are you scowling?” Maman demanded from her seat next to me. “If you are too rough on the clay, it will get air pockets.”