With a jolt, Molly awoke. The sky's dark red hue told her how late it was. Her butt cheeks complained of their abuse, before falling silent in a state of petulant numbness. She sat up, drawing his attention. His arms loosened with his hands lowering to grip her hips. Yup, at least the extra pounds were coming in handy ... pun intended. She shifted away, and he let her.

"Now is it safe to go down?" he teased her.

At his tone, her head snapped up and she found herself grinning in the direction of his voice. Thankfully, she had an excellent memory of where the branches were, otherwise, she would be panicking about climbing down in the dark. Molly slid off the branch.

"Wait!" He tried to stop her, but his warning came too late. She had released the branch.

She expected to land on the branch beneath it. There was nothing there. With an oomph, his body hit hers, falling with her. He spun in mid-air calling to Mother to help. He landed on his back on three branches that combined to catch him, like fingers pressed together. Molly sprawled on top of him, smashed against all his hard edges. She struggled to breathe, to draw in air against the vise squeezing her chest.

Futtering her fingers over his face and his ribs, she searched for injuries. "Are you all right? Anything hurt?"

"I am fine, temaar." His hands slid from her hips to above her ass, tightening to crush her against his body. Parts of hers melted into a pool of need that wasn't due to his warmth.

Dismissing her reaction to his dominance as nothing other than her misconstruing the situation, she used his chest and held herself off him. "Then what the hell were you thinking? You could've killed me, you ... us."

"Mother's branches move. It is why you have her blessing. If she hadn't wanted you to climb her, she would've retracted her branches." He rubbed his hands up and down her back, and she fought the urge to arch and purr like a friggin' kitten.

"That's ... incredible." Molly winced. What else could she have said? It was amazing, almost unbelievable that a tree had saved them. The glowing tree, Mother, was an unknown. Molly wasn't going to be an idiot and accidentally insult it ... her.

The three branches moved as one to lower them to the ground and as soon as Molly's feet touched down, she slid off Anzar to hug the trunk, pressing a kiss to the bark. It pulsed green in response.

"What is that?" Anzar gestured to her lips and the tree. He had held his palm to the trunk, and was thus close enough to see her kiss the bark.

"It's called a kiss. It can have many meanings." She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. "This means hello, or greetings. Bend down please." And he did without hesitation. She pressed an air kiss to each of his cheeks. "Also hello." Then she cupped his bearded cheeks to brush her lips across his mouth... "Thank you, for saving me." She lingered, liking the feel of his soft beard tickling her lips and chin. Where she found the nerve to kiss him, she would never know. That Anzar had stayed with her, been honest with her, saved her ... no man had done that before. "I kissed Mother to thank her for coming to our rescue."

"We do not know this," he rumbled.

"Oh? Then whoever won Amy is in for a surprise tonight." She chuckled, drawing the cool night air into her lungs.

"The yellow-haired female is called Amy?"

Molly nodded and glanced around, wondering why she didn't like Amy's name on his lips, spoken in his voice. He hadn't asked for her name ... just kept calling her 'female'. "Is there somewhere I can shower ... wash ... bathe?" she asked after he stood there staring at her. His chest had rumbled when she kissed his lips. She shrugged, not knowing if it was a good or bad thing, whether she had crossed a warrior boundary or broken a law. Yup, she had probably insulted the chieftain. Way to go, Mols! And the award for best human ambassador goes to...

"We bathe in the waterfall. Our fresh water comes from the caves. Our cloths and body cleaning happens by the river." He pointed in different directions as if she could see that well in the moonlight.

Did they have a communal bath like the ancient cultures used to have? Molly didn't know how she felt about sharing a bath. "You bathe in front of everyone?"

"In a way, we keep our kemtoch on." He gestured to his underwear inside his harem-style pants, running a thick digit along his waistline. Molly's gaze lingered there, wondering if his skin would be as velvety as his chest and whether the fine coating of hair was a soft as the hair on his forearms.

His words sank in, and she gaped, horror sliding cold dread down her spine. "Oh, shit." She groaned as mortification consumed her. She was naked beneath her jumpsuit. Yet another thing to throw at the Vargosh's feet.

"You do not have kemtoch?" Anzar's gaze ran over her, stilling at the torn fabric over her breast. His chest rumbled again.

Molly chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should bite the bullet and waterfall naked. She needed to be clean, the oppressive heat of this world had her jumpsuit clinging to her. She felt icky. There was no way she would fall asleep feeling this way.

"When is the waterfall the least used?" The fewer witnesses the better. They would look out of curiosity and suffering their interest would be worth it if it meant she could be clean.

"Now."

"So, at this time of night?" He nodded at her question. "Can you show me where it is?"

He hesitated, raised his gaze to the sky and drew in a deep breath. "You wish to bathe now?"

"Yes, please."

His shoulders stiffened, but he nodded and strode to the south of the cavern. Molly had to half-run to keep up with his long strides. She didn't stumble on anything though, as if the ground was walked-smooth. The moonlight illuminated their destination, and her breath caught. The grey grass faded to a solid-rock bank that curtained off the pool into which the waterfall tumbled. It was mesmerizing, the pale froth marking the waterfall's location, along with the familiar sounds of splashes and gurgles.

"It's enchanting," she gasped, rushing forward to run her fingers through the water lapping the rocky bank. It was at least ten degrees cooler than the heat clinging to her. The water was also greenish instead of blue and thicker than the water she was used to. "And it's deliciously cool." She dropped onto the rocky ground and tugged a boot off. "Nothing will bite me in your waters?" She pulled off the other boot and clambered to her feet to unzip her jumpsuit.

"No," he rumbled, his gaze fixed on her fingers.

"Good." Unwanted heat flooded her body as she unzipped under his watchful gaze, exposing her pale cleavage and stomach. "It's polite to look away," she said, expecting him to do just that. After all, this was her, Molly, the most undesired female in two galaxies.

"We are not polite," Anzar said and waited.

She frowned at his expectation that she would parade before him naked. The pervert! So she waited, planning on outlasting him. But when time passed and he remained, waiting, watching; she huffed and threw her arms in the air. She slipped the jumpsuit off and stepped out of it where it had gathered on the ground. Giving him her back, ignoring his rumbling, she waded into the cool waters.

Moaning in bliss, she ducked under the cool water before swimming toward the rocky shelf against which the waterfall splattered. She pulled herself up the rocks, supporting her weight with ease, then stepped under the flowing water. She felt human again as the day's travails poured off her body and into the waiting pool. Facing Anzar, she found him gone. Disappointment and relief warred within her. He didn't like her, remember. Men like him preferred women more feminine. Pain darted through her heart, and she shrugged as if doing so eradicated the effects of her brutal thoughts.

"Female," Anzar said, drawing her attention. He held a garment for her, and the warmth that smothered her inner voice was breathtaking. She dove into the pool and swam toward him. As she emerged from the water, she squeezed her hair to drain it, her bare feet slapping on the rocky bank.

"Thank you, Anzar. I hadn't thought about clothes." She accepted the simple grey dress and tugged it over her head. Crafted from the softest leather, it fell to her mid-thigh. "My name is Molly, not female," she said, tugging her hair from under the dress's collar.

"Come with me ... Molly. I will take you to your tent." His words had her grabbing her boots, and her jumpsuit to rush after him. "All the Chosen receive tents, as well as the mated Sunkhuni."

"Did Duro get Amy?" She had missed the finale, missed seeing Amy's reaction to her fate. Failure settled like shackles around her neck. She had failed her friend. This was all her fault, agreeing to the Vargosh's contract despite knowing otherwise.

"No, Grax did. I am pleased. He is also a good male, but he is a scarred one. Most females do not prefer him."

Anger burned on Grax's behalf. He was judged for something beyond his control, like many judged her for her height or her glower.

"Then they are fools," Molly spat. "We are all scarred, some just bare it physically."

Anzar blinked at her. He rumbled again, and with a gentleness, stroked a damp curl off her cheek. Heat trailed her cheek where he touched. He opened the flap of a tent and waited. In shades of blacks, browns, the tent was bigger than she had expected.

"This is mine?" she asked as her gaze flew from one item of interest to another. Her bed was a thick pile of furs on the covered ground. It looked soft and inviting. There was a stool to the side and a large chest, but since she owned nothing, she didn't know what she would store in there. There was a hand-carved table to one side with a stone bowl on top. A pitcher held water with a stone goblet next to it. There was also a stone bowl holding strange vegetables or fruit. A cream-colored pebble on the table glowed bright enough to illuminate the tent.

"This is reserved for visiting chieftains, but since your blessing, the elders have allocated it to you. On the next day, they wish for you to demonstrate this 'kiss'. Mother said you would show gratitude in a favorable manner." Anzar strode toward the tent flap, though he appeared reluctant to leave her. "An elder will collect you at sunrise. Sweet slumber, ... Molly."

"Good night, Anzar." She smiled, dropped her boots, draped her jumpsuit over the chest and lowered herself onto the furs. She moaned as it engulfed her, sinking her into blissful softness. She hadn't realized how tired she was. Not sure if it was due to all this Vargosh nonsense, the stress of crashing or her head wound.

Within seconds, with thoughts of Anzar teasing her subconscious, she slept.