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“And what are you going to do?” Nigel asks, finally drifting his attention up from the ground.

“And what is Naomi doing?” Ezra cuts in, narrowing his eyes. “She not going with the other girls?” The primal hatred radiates out of him.

I have to wonder what’s running through Naomi’s mind as she crinkles her nose at him. She has these two alpha males trying to stake their claim, but it seems she has made her choice. She only has eyes for Micah. Still, I’ve seen her with Ezra when Micah’s not around.

Something’s there, too.

Micah’s fingers curl around Naomi stomach, that fist he likes to make when he feels things. His dark gaze shoots to Ezra with a daring, taunting look. “Naomi and I are going hunting.”

It’s a miracle that Ezra doesn’t jump up and plunge the spear a few feet away right into Micah’s heart with the amount of seething rage coming out of him. He’s vibrating.

Pure. Primal. Instinct.

And hunger. It’s been seventy-two hours since we’ve properly eaten, other than the crumbs of what Micah has given us.

Maison once again places his hand over Ezra’s chest, keeping him at bay. A flicker of amusement seeps out of Micah’s eyes, enjoying every chance he can to taunt Ezra.

“Ignore him, Ezra; it’s not worth it. He’s trying to get a rise out of you,” Maison tells him.

With the tension still thick in the air, Ezra stomps to the pile of branches and logs where they plan to build.

Micah snickers, but it’s not Naomi who has his attention, despite being in his arms. His eyes continuously stare at my fingers as they intertwine with Maison’s. At least his eyes are full of light today, rather than the black void that was in them yesterday. There is something else that lies behind them, which seems more animalistic than anything.

“You remind him of her,” Maison told me last night.

Why do I remind Micah of Olivia so much when he has a blonde who looks exactly like her right in front of him? Is it because I’m giving Maison that kind of attention?

I squeeze Maison’s arm even tighter. I like him, and I will not deny myself just because Micah doesn’t approve.

Micah rises, grabs some wire from the storage pile, and pulls Naomi with him in the opposite direction from where Ezra went, but not before he snatches his pointy spear and clasps it firmly with his other hand. A wave of heat flows through me as I watch them and the pure strength in that grip. The heat flows right between my legs. So hot, I wonder if Maison can sense it.

Micah’s look suggests they will do significantly more than just hunt.

I throw dry kindling into the pile and return to the nearby evergreen forest. We eventually find some driftwood, branches, and twigs from the odd birch tree, and we collect as many logs as we can before Jade suggests bringing Thomas a few big branches. I spot Nigel building his own shelter away from the others. It seems like Maison disappeared hours ago to go to the lake, presumably to fish. I’ve not seen him since we all departed to complete our tasks, and I hate how much I already miss him, how close and connected we are, even though I’ve only known him for a few days.

I feel safe and comforted when I’m wrapped in his arms. When I’m not, I don’t, and given our circumstance, I just want to be protected. The thought of his dark hair and cute smile brings a smile to my face, and I can still feel the brush of his hands on my body and his lips on my neck.

Ezra, who is working on his own shelter a few feet away, ignores us as we walk up. Thomas pauses and smiles, wiping the thin later of sweat off his forehead as he anchors a large, prickly branch over a couple larger logs they are using as supports to create an A-frame. His muscles ripple as he works, and he’s almost single-handedly built an entire shelter while Ezra struggles to get two sticks to lean up against one another. I’m sure we will continue building and adding to them as the days progress, but the goal is for everyone to have somewhere to rest their heads tonight outside of the elements.

His eyes linger on Jade a moment longer than they do me as we drop the branch to the ground with a heavy thud. I sit, out of breath since I am completely and utterly out of shape.

“We found a stream,” she tells Thomas, oblivious to the fact that he’s checking her out. “It’s only seven minutes away, but it’s exactly what Micah said we would find close by.” Her voice takes on an excited tone and her blush when she sees him tells me she might not be as oblivious to his looks as I thought.

He presses his lips together. “Micah will be happy when he gets back.”

Jade smiles at the compliment, as if pleasing Micah is everyone’s goal on the island. Thomas’s loyalty to him seems stronger than even Maison’s, and it was the same as on the hockey rink. When Thomas was on the ice, no one even got near Micah—and given his size, I certainly wouldn’t mind a bodyguard like that. Thomas’s loyalty to Micah seems absolute, and he’s fiercely protective of him. I wonder what Micah did to earn it. It must have been something special.

Jade steps forward and grabs the other side of a large branch to help him hoist it up. “How do you know this stuff?” she asks him.

“Micah showed me before he left,” he says as he places the branch down. “We will just layer these branches until it’s completely covered, then we need to insulate the top using boughs or moss. It will take a while, but we can just keep building onto it.”

I notice Ezra is doing his differently, so is Nigel, and Jade nudges her head toward them. “Why aren’t they building theirs the same way?”

He shrugs. “I guess they don’t want to do it Micah’s way. They think they can build it better.” I imagine Ezra’s shelter crumbling in on him, and it brings a smile to my face. Nigel is struggling, too, so it’s a good opportunity to talk to him.

Thomas moves on to the next shelter, where he already has two poles lined up. “Can I help you with it?” Jade asks him.

He pauses and catches her eye and goes wholly still for a moment. “Yeah.” He points at the pile of moss. “Just hand me small pieces so I can start insulating the ground and roof.” I can just imagine him ripping that moss off the tree with his bare hands.