Page 52 of Corvak's Challenge

I'm really not—the thought of eating meat makes me queasy all over again, but I don't want Corvak to have another thing to worry over. "Doesn't matter. There's nothing to eat in the cave and I don't want you leaving again."

"I am absolutely not leaving your side. Not while he's around."

"It's not that he seems dangerous. I just don't like it when you're gone. I miss you too much." The last few days have felt endless. I can deal with him leaving the cave for hours every day as long as I know he's coming back. I live for the quiet nighttime swims in our heated pool, the cuddling under the blankets, the foot rubs he insists upon giving me, but more than anything, I miss our conversations.

Corvak shakes his head, rubbing my arm to reassure me. "It's all part of his plan, I'd bet. He'll disarm us with his poor attitude and then wait until our guard is down before he strikes."

"You're the expert."

He releases my hand, and then a moment later, something hard, cold, and lumpy is pressed into my palm. It takes me a moment to realize it's a root. A second later, a few more are pushed into my grip, all of them small and oddly sized, but enough for a meal. "I pulled a few of these for you while we were traveling. I didn't like the thought of returning to you empty-handed."

I could cry. Not because I'm hungry, but because it's so thoughtful. Even when he's gone and busy trying to take down the enemy, he's trying to think of me, trying to take care of me. "You're incredible."

"Just don't let the snow-people see. I want you to eat these, not them." He rubs my arm. "I'll get the soup served to the ones waiting outside and see what information I can get out of our guest. I can make a fire in here, too. You stay back and roast your roots and swim, yes? You look tired, and I can handle this."

He might be trying to keep me away from Valmir because he doesn't trust him, but I don't care. I'm suddenly exhausted, and a soak in the pool, a roasted root or three, and a nap suddenly sounds like the best evening ever. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure." Corvak kisses my forehead. "I will handle everything."

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

CORVAK

Aidy retreatsinto our room without complaint, and it only worries me more. She doesn't like to be seen as weak, or useless. The fact that we have a stranger here and she is not fighting to ask him questions tells me how poorly she truly feels. Surely she would say something if she was not fine…wouldn't she?

I cannot help but worry over her. Aidy is everything to me. I regret that I had the idea for the army. I regret that I've encouraged the snow-people in their worship. If I had not, Aidy would not spend her days cooking for them. Perhaps she would be less sick, less tired. I hate that I spent the last several days hunting down the stranger, only for him to annoy me with every word that comes out of his mouth.

Now that I am back at the cave, I can at least do my share and Aidy can rest.

With a glare at Valmir, I stalk over to the cookpot and scoop the battered bowl into the stinking soup. It smells foul and the contents look worse, but the snow-people don't care. They waitoutside hungrily for what Aidy cooks them, as if it is their right to demand food from us.

I'm growingverytired of them.

Bowl in hand, I move to the front of the cave and make a furious gesture. Kneel. The waiting males drop to the ground where they are, hooting and sniveling. The nearest takes the bowl when I hand it to him, and I head back into the cave to wait for him to be done. I crouch at the entrance, keeping one eye on the snow-people…and one on the stranger.

"Neat trick," Valmir says. "How'd you teach them how to do that?"

Should I tell him the truth of it or let him wonder? With a narrowed gaze, I watch my opponent and gauge him. "It is no trick. They worship me."

His brows go up. "How did you manage that?"

"I am sure you would like to know." Does he take me for a fool? Does he think I will spill everything if he asks in a friendly tone? I am not an idiot and this is not my first fight…well, it is, but he doesn't have to know that.

Valmir shakes his head, closing his eyes once more. There is strain on his face, and his ears are flat with pain. He rubs his knee as if that will somehow help his foot, making a face as he does. "I guess I'm more curious why you'd want to spend all your time with a bunch of crazy metlaks instead of heading out to the beach with the others. All the gladiators have gotten a little soft since arriving, but they're friendly. And there's always things to eat, people to help out." He opens his eyes and pointedly stares at my crude clothing. "People that can teach you how to take care of yourself and your mate."

He implies I am not taking care of Aidy, that I have not done everything I can for her. He doesn't know what we've been through. He doesn't know that her illness is destroying me inside because I can't help her. He doesn't know that I would take on allof it, that I would be sick instead, if it would only make her feel better. He's just trying to get under my skin.

It's working, too. I hate that most of all. I force myself to be calm, because Aidy wants answers from him. "Metlak," I say slowly, turning the word over in my mind. "Is that what they are called? The snow-people?"

Valmir rolls his eyes. "They're not people. They're wild animals."

"They are people." Not reasonable ones, not clean ones, but theyarepeople. They have their own language and their own beliefs. But if he dismisses them as non-threatening, it is better for me. "You do not have metlak on the beach?"

He huffs. "Not at all. They avoid that side of the mountains because we're there. The only reason I've come this far on my hunt is because"—he stops immediately and then rethinks his words—"because of curiosity."

Interesting. There's something he doesn't want to tell me. "Are you alone?"

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