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Her face falls, her lip quivering. She is no Elena.

A gust of cold lands, and a few of the women gasp. They’ll need greater protection from the coming cold.

Because there will be a lot of it. More than they could imagine.

Ulof approaches, his face grumpy and dour.

“You say these girls are strong in their own way, and yet nearly half are huddled on blankets.”

“As I’ve said: strong in different ways. Our own people are strong, and yet how many turns of the moon do they have left?” I reply. “These people, while slight, are prolific.”

“Did you see how they reacted to the ribbon? They won’t survive the coming cold. And…the long one.” He says the last part in a hushed whisper.

“Perhaps that is true. Perhaps not.”

“And if we were to mate them, are we to watch our children grow cold and die?”

I scratch my chin. “We can assume safely that any child born of Tempest and these women would be a mix of our traits, if their wombs quicken at all.”

Ulof’s gaze finds Fiona, the unmistakable glint of desire shining in his eyes.

“You should speak with her,” I say simply.

His head snaps in my direction. “A better idea would be to watch.”

“Fine. Go watch Gaerth or Orvell talk to her, because they’re eyeing her too.”

He grumbles, but stalks off towards Fiona, standing a little straighter than he normally would.

Movement from the tree line draws my attention, and I look over to see Ramsey and Elena walking toward the fire, dragging their kill behind them.

Elena immediately goes to her people, talking to each of them and assessing the situation. She will do well as chief.

“Weak as they might be, they are not so weak as to need my help with their kill,” Ramsey says, pulling back the cloth to reveal a giant bruntler.

“They took that down by themselves?” I ask, impressed.

“The three worked together, under my guidance, to fell the beast.”

I nod.

Ramsey’s eyes scan the camp. “It is possible that a few of these women are strong enough to survive.”

“Every moment that goes by, my faith grows.”

He gestures to the women lying around on furs. “Perhaps we should leave them behind when we go back to the tents.”

I shake my head from side to side. “If we bring the women, we bring all of them. They rise and fall on their terms.”

He snickers. “How can you say that when they use our medicine, tools, and eat our meat?”

“When we came to this land, we came with tools and medicine of our own. How long would we have lasted with nothing but shackled hands and slips of clothes?”

He shakes his head in frustration.

“Has one caught your attention?”

His mouth slants to the side. “None are as desirable as a Tempest woman…and their scent is…strong…it confuses me.”


Tags: L.J. Anderson Paranormal