The hunters parted, and she squinted. When she saw Mayhem and me, her eyes widened, and a smile lit up a face with skin as dark as night. Lore took after his mother, I thought.
Mayhem tugged my hand, and we walked to greet the woman. I smiled brightly because first impressions were important and because, unlike the others, she appeared harmless.
On the way there, Mayhem whispered, “Baby, what’s a twat?”
Dewlyn, the girl from the pod, had called him that as she rattled of landing instructions. “In your case, it means obnoxious.”
“I like the word. Twat. Twat. Twat.”
“Okay, you can stop now.”
Lore’s mother, Hasel, looked from me to Mayhem, then back. “You caught a girl? You don’t trust me to have plenty for you?” She looked me up and down. “Scrawny little thing. Needs to eat. Come inside.” She turned on her heel.
Say what? “I eat plenty,” I mumbled. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Reagan,” Mayhem said and didn’t follow behind her. “My mate.”
Hasel spun around, took another look at me. “My sister would say she is perfect, however scrawny she might be.”
“She would say that,” Mayhem said.
“The girl will give us heirs. This is a blessed night.” She walked past Mayhem and shouted, “Whatch ya all standing there for? We shall breed heirs this night! Secure this place.” She turned to me. “Come with me.”
Mayhem winked at me and joined the group outside while Hasel led me straight to the kitchen. I guessed she really wanted me to eat.
Chapter Eighteen
Reagan
Hasel took over my “care” while Mayhem got busy with the males. She rushed me into a kitchen the size of the bottom floor of Mayhem’s home, pulled up a chair at one small table in the corner, and pushed my shoulders down. Not having much of a choice, I sat, and rubbed my shoulders to warm up my arms against the chill.
Hasel plucked a ladle that hung on the wall by a hook, dipped it into a giant metal pot still on the fire, and scooped up a ladleful of stew, then served it to me with a spoon. The steam traveled up my nose and straight into my stomach. It cheered loudly. Hasel smiled. “Eat, little one. Eat.”
I picked up my spoon. The doors swung open, and a girl wearing a pale blue dress walked inside. She carried another bowl and put it on the counter. When she turned to walk back, our eyes met. Hers widened, and I fought my reaction. Sienna. She’d run from Men of Earth and ended up with the hunters. Poor thing couldn’t catch a break. I looked away when Hasel turned around. “Sienna, dear, prepare the big room.”
Sienna nodded but didn’t leave. She just sort of stood there, swallowing.
My stomach growled again, so I dug into the stew. Meat, potato, and little bit of parsley. Some cubed carrots, the veggies probably there for the color more than for nutrition. “Mmmm. It’s really good.”
“Thank you. I’m too old to hunt, but the boys bring me with them for the cooking.”
I ate another bite, then looked up at Sienna who vigorously shook her head.
Hasel turned around again, and Sienna froze. “Girl, did you need something?”
Right before Sienna turned the corner, she paused and stuck her finger into her mouth, then bent at the waist as if throwing up. Then she left. I looked down at my bowl at the same time as Mayhem joined me at the table. Hasel served him the same food, and he dived in. Hasel watched me, and I realized this must be some sort of a test. She was fond of Mayhem. Still, I couldn’t presume anything. “Did you serve me a person?” I asked.
Mayhem put his spoon down and leaned back.
“He was not a good person,” Hasel said.
“I eat animal meat. There’s livestock here.” Outside, I’d heard pigs grunting.
“The cows give us milk. The chickens give us eggs. The guy in the stew gave me two sick women to worry about. Besides, humans are always on the menu for our people. Aren’t they, Mayhem?”
Mayhem didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up the bowl and chugged the entire thing down his throat. Liquid spilled onto his chest and trailed to his middle. He slammed the bowl down. Mayhem the Barbarian, I thought. He felt at home here among his people. The big candle on the table illuminated his brutally handsome face as he awaited my response.
Mike had died. I would mourn him after I lived through all this.
If Hanna lived, I doubted she’d stay with me.
Mayhem would’ve given his life for mine, and now, in his own arrogant, obnoxious, brutal way, he asked that I accept our differences. Don’t show them fear. The hunters believed I would give them heirs, so, in a way, I would become their queen. What kind of a queen would a barbarian race follow? Not a squeamish one.