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"Maybe they're waiting for us to drop scraps."

Oh no. I hadn't even thought about the food issue.

Now that I consider it, we haven't seen them eat anything all day long.

That's not good. They've just trotted around behind us like stray dogs.

We've got a dozen people clustered just outside our makeshift tent and I'm going to feel like a huge jerk if I eat and they don't. I pull out the bag of jerky we've been picking at as we travel, and eye Corvak. "How do you feel about sharing?"

He just raises an eyebrow at me. "If I tell you no, is that going to make a difference?"

The way he says it is kind, almost amused. It makes me smile, and I pull out several pieces of jerky and the cooking pouch we stole from the supply cave. "We can make a broth go a lot further."

So I make broth out of jerky, and shove some of the root vegetables into the coals.

It's only been about a week since we got stranded here—dear god, how has it only been a week?

—and yet I'm adapting. We picked up a little baggy of real salt from the supply cave, and I season the soup with it, then add a few flakes of vegetables.

"By the way," I say to Corvak, "if I haven't said thank you yet, I'm saying it now. "

"Thank you? For what?"

I shrug, feeling a little shy that he's calling me out on my comment. "For being kind when you don't have to be."

"Kind?" He looks surprised at my words, practically offended. "What makes you think I am kind ?"

"It's not an insult?—"

"I am a gladiator. I am created to be a fierce warrior. "

Why do I feel like smiling at how indignant he is? "And you absolutely are."

"Which means I am not kind. "

"You're kind to me."

Corvak's expression softens, and I could swear that he hums a little louder as he watches me. "Yes, but you are mine."

"Just for the record, we haven't established anything of the sort.

" But now I'm thinking about touching him.

This morning was so nice, being able to just reach over and casually grab him, and I loved that he touched me back.

I was looking forward to doing more, but with a dozen strangers hovering just outside our tent, sex is honestly the last thing on the menu.

"And you're being kind to the people out there, feeding them and all. "

"That is for you, too." He leans back, regarding me.

Oh. How sweet. "Well, thank you. I know it's going to be a hardship if we keep sharing our food?—"

Again, he snorts. "Hunting is not a hardship. It is what I am born to do."

Right, right, because he's a big fierce warrior. I fight my smile and hold my hand out. "Of course. How silly of me to doubt you. Pass me a bowl and I'll get started doling out the food."

For the next while, I stand at the fire and distribute food.

We brought two of the strangely made little bowls with us for our use, but when I hold one out, it's snatched from my hands, the contents slurped down before I can say anything.

The snow-people immediately begin to fight amongst themselves, pulling fur and hooting wildly, and another male attacks the one with the bowl, even as he gobbles the steaming food.

"Calm down," I call out, hating that they're being so loud. "We'll make sure everyone gets fed!"

They ignore me and keep on hooting, another one snatching the bowl and licking it clean.

Corvak gets to his feet and steps out of the tent, and immediately the chaos dies. He scowls at them, crossing his arms over his chest, and one by one, they drop to a low crouch, in the subservient pose.

I don't know how I feel about that, but at least they're not trying to kill each other over beef jerky soup?

I retrieve the bowl, fill it again, and offer it to a mother with a child.

She sniffs the soup, offers it to her baby, and then gives me a hungry, pitiful look while the baby eats.

I turn to Corvak. "You stand out here and keep the peace.

I'm going to see if we have something else for them to eat. "

He doesn't get mad, which makes my heart warm.

Most guys would probably lose their shit, insisting that we save our supplies for ourselves.

Not Corvak. He's confident enough in himself to share, all because I want to, and it makes me appreciate him even more.

I snag coal-roasted roots from the fire, holding them with a bit of fur to act as an oven mitt, and when I bring them out, the female gets excited.

I offer her a root, and she takes it, devouring it despite the fact that it's probably burning her hands.

That's how it goes for the next while—I scoop a bowl of food and supervise as someone eats, and if they refuse the soup, I offer a root.

By the time we get everyone fed, it's late, the bowl has been gnawed on and licked by half the tribe, and all of our roots are gone.

There's nothing but scraps left for myself and Corvak, but we've eaten as we traveled so I don't mind not having much for dinner.

I wash my hands and scrape the last of the soup out of the cooking pouch into the clean bowl I kept back for Corvak.

"Did you notice the women didn't eat the soup? Just the vegetables."

Corvak shrugs. "Perhaps they save the meat for the hunters."

"Maybe." It makes me wonder how we're going to feed everyone tomorrow though. "I'm sorry we went through so much food." The jerky pouch is emptied out, the last bits and flakes shaken into the stew an hour ago.

"We will get more tomorrow." He shrugs and takes a bite of the leftovers and then offers a bite to me. "Are they still out there?"

I peek out from the tent flap, not entirely surprised to see that our crowd is indeed still there. They curl up together in the snow, piling on to share warmth, and as I watch, one grooms a knot out of another's fur. "Still out there."

"At least they are obedient."

"When you're around," I tease. "They like you more than me."

"They know you are the soft one and I am the warrior."

Why does that make me blush? It should be an insult, but…

it doesn't sound like one. He makes it sound like a caress.

I still need to tell him that I don't belong to him, but it's lower on the priority scale right now.

My feet hurt and I'm exhausted, and all I want to do is wash my hands a dozen times (I will never get used to the smell of the snow-people) and go to sleep.

Corvak continues to hold the bowl out to me, waiting for me to eat, but I wave it away. "Not hungry. I just want to clean up."

I spend the next while scrubbing my hands with snow and then rinsing them with melted water.

I wipe them with the "cleanest" fur we have, and wish we had soap.

I'm trying not to think about all the germs we could be ingesting, but priorities are priorities.

Now that my hands are clean, I can relax.

I sit down in the spread furs near the fire, wincing when my feet give an unpleasant throb.

"I'd give my left tit for a good pair of hiking boots. "

He looks over at me, frowning. "Are your feet bothering you?"

"A little. I'm not trying to complain," I say, feeling defensive. "Just grousing a bit. I think I'd be able to keep up more if I had better shoes than just some furs wrapped around my feet."

I pull off the cords and furs—as always, soaked from the snow—and wince when the lines crisscrossing my feet show up bright red and unpleasant.

I have to lace the furs extremely tight so they don't slide off, but it's a little painful by the end of the day.

There are blisters on the sides of my feet where the cords have rubbed my foot raw, and old welts from the prior days.

Corvak makes a displeased sound when I reveal my feet. "You're hurt."

"I'm okay," I protest. "Really."

Even if they look like something from a horror flick.

He moves to my side and takes my foot in his hand, ignoring my fussing. "Let me see."

I bite back a litany of excuses and whining, all because I feel strange over him brooding over my feet.

He clucks his tongue, his gaze narrowed with irritation as he examines my blisters and abrasions.

"This is not good, Aidy. Why did you not speak up?

" His fingers caress the sole of my foot, unfazed that my foot is probably grimy and damp-wrinkled from a day of walking.

"I am supposed to take care of you, but I cannot if you do not tell me that you are in pain. "

I wriggle, trying not to jerk my foot out of his grip when his fingers accidentally tickle and send heatwaves shooting straight to my groin. "What are you going to do, carry me all day?"

"Yes."

Laughter bursts from me. He doesn't laugh, and it takes me a moment to realize that he's serious. Oh. "Corvak, you can't do that."

"I don't see why not." His fingers skim over the arch of my foot.

The air leaves my lungs. I can't breathe.

Can't think. My entire being is focused on the trail of his fingertip along my skin.

I'm full of yearning, wanting more of this sweet gentleness…

and wanting him to do more than just touch my dang foot.

He explores my heel, then traces up my sole to my toes.

I squirm with ticklishness again, but I don't pull my foot away.

I want him to keep touching me, keep exploring me.

Keep adoring me.

"I can smell your hunger," he comments as he touches my smallest toe. "You like it when I touch you."

"I do," I agree. I'm a little embarrassed but trying not to be. Surely after we've given each other handies, the embarrassment should be put away, right? "But I'm a little surprised you can smell anything with our neighbors around."

He chuckles, shaking his head. "They are rather…pungent. And overwhelming. If someone thinks to sneak up on us, I won't smell them."

"I don't think anyone's going to sneak up.

" As if agreeing with me, a snow yeti gives a soft, sleepy hoot somewhere in the distance.

It reminds me that they're just meters away, and we have no privacy.

"But I should tell you that I'm not interested in doing anything sex-wise with an audience out there. They're too close for comfort."

"I can fix that, you know." When I give him a confused look, he makes the neck-snapping gesture again, a smirk on his face.

I laugh despite how horrible it is. "Absolutely not."

He shrugs, smiling. "You are in charge."

Am I? That's kind of nice of him to think that, considering he's the one that's doing all the hard work. "We're partners," I point out. "No one makes a decision without the other. And speaking of decisions…what's the plan now that we know it's not a supply drop?"

He stops playing with my feet and just holds them, thinking. "We are low on resources, so we will need to hunt and find more fuel for fire." He glances over at me and inclines his head towards the outside. "And a lot depends on if they are yet there in the morning."

"Something tells me they'll be there."

Corvak gives me a wry look. "I think so, too. So we must consider that they are going to accompany us, unless we do something drastic to scare them away."

Scaring them seems cruel, but I also don't want a bunch of hungry, hooting aliens following us around if it means we're going to be caught by the other gladiators here. "I guess we'll see how tomorrow goes. Thank you for being patient with them."

"Why would I not be patient?" He cocks his head. "You have a very low opinion of me, I think. Do you expect me to rage and attack everything and everyone within arm's length?

"Of course not! I just…I don't know." I feel uncomfortable, because maybe I have been assuming things about him. "I guess I have a certain idea in my head of how a gladiator will act. Punch first, think later."

He rubs my foot again, digesting this. Then, he nods. "I can see that. However, I have learned that one of the greatest weapons is being strategic and thoughtful in how you proceed."

"Which is why you want a fortress and for the enemies to come to us instead of the other way around," I say slowly. "I get that, but why take me? I'm a liability, and we both know that."

Corvak just smiles. "No. You are my prize. My reward for succeeding."

I sigh. "We really need to have a discussion about that."

"Tomorrow, then. For tonight, I shall rub your poor mistreated feet and take care of you." And he kneads the arch of my foot, eliciting a groan from me.

Okay, well, if he wants to give me a foot rub, I'll stand my ground about this whole ownership thing tomorrow.

For now, I'm enjoying the pampering, even if it does make me incredibly horny.

I squeeze my thighs tightly together and hope that our fuzzy friends bail on us in the morning, because I'm itching to touch Corvak, and I can't with all of them hanging around.

The stink of them is definitely a turn-off. Imagining their fascinated gazes as I jiggle Corvak's balls? Horrifying.