Page 7 of Surrendering Her Heart (Red Planet Fated Mates #10)

6

AVA

I tear my gaze away from the Zmaj, scowling at my own foolish reaction. Now is not the time for this. Not the time to notice the way his golden eyes gleam in the dim cavern light or the way his smile softens the sharp lines of his face. Focus.

Dan is already moving. Gathering what little we have to bring with us. Another one of the Zmaj and one more human whom I only know by name, Shaun, will go with us. As we prepare Shana and Nyanna murmur instructions to the others. The plan is set. The Zmaj moves closer, the cool chill of is scales radiating against my side.

“Stay close to me,” he murmurs.

“I can take care of myself,” I say, frowning as every muscle tenses.

His tail flicks once, the tip curling in irritation.

“You fight well, but you are not a ready for Tajss.”

“And you’re not my keeper,” I snap, shoving past him to join Dan.

The truth is, a part of me wants to listen to him. Wants to let him shield me, but I can’t afford that kind of weakness.

“We move fast. No hesitation. If we run into guster, we cut our losses and get out,” Dan says, handing me a small pack.

“Got it.” I tighten the strap, inhaling deeply to steady my nerves.

“Be careful. If things go bad, don’t play the hero,” Shana says, walking over with worry written all over her face. I nod, though we both know I’ll do whatever it takes to get what we need.

The Zmaj falls into step beside me as we make our way to the cavern entrance. Outside, the desert sprawls before us, vast and eerily silent. The storm scrubbed the land clean, but I know better than to trust the stillness. Dan signals, and we move.

The heat is oppressive and the sand shifts beneath my feet as we make our way toward the abandoned supplies. Every hard won step is a reminder of the risk we’re taking. The Zmaj walks just behind me, close enough that his steady breathing is loud in my ears. I don’t look at him. I don’t need to. His presence is impossible to ignore.

The wind howls across the dunes, stirring loose grains into the air, stinging my exposed skin. It still carries the ghost of the storm’s fury, a warning that nature isn’t done with us yet. Every step tightens the tension in my chest, making it feel like my heart is working double time to do its job.

The Zmaj moves silently beside me, a constant presence, a shadow of heat and quiet strength. His gaze sweeps the horizon, alert and wary. I feel the weight of it even though I refuse to meet his eyes. I don’t need him watching over me. But I also don’t tell him to stop.

Dan leads us forward, his posture stiff with focus. No one speaks. The only sound is the wind and the shifting sand beneath our boots. Then, up ahead, dark shapes break the monotony of red and gold. The scattered remnants of our supplies.

My pulse kicks up, a flicker of hope rising until Dan lifts a hand, stopping us short. I see it at the same time he does. Tracks. Deep, clawed impressions in the sand. The guster have already been here. May still be here.

A chill races down my spine. The tracks are fresh. Dan crouches beside them, brushing his fingers over the deep grooves in the sand. He doesn’t speak, but his jaw tightens.

The Zmaj steps forward, his tail flicking once before going still. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, eyes narrowing toward the horizon.

“They are close,” he says softly.

I swallow hard, scanning the barren dunes. There’s nowhere to hide out here, no cover, nothing but endless sand dunes stretching in all directions.

“Do we go for it?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Dan glances at the Zmaj, who doesn’t look at him but gives a single, sharp nod.

“We go fast,” Dan says. “Take what we can carry. If they’re nearby, we don’t give them time to catch us out in the open.”

No one argues. There’s no other choice.

“Let’s make it quick,” Shaun says, the tremor in his voice the only sign of his fear.

I exhale, bracing myself, then move.

The first few steps feel like running into a trap, but I push forward. The abandoned supplies are scattered across the sand, half-buried from the storm. Scanning quickly it’s clear that some things are beyond saving. Containers cracked open, food lost, but there are water canisters still intact, and a few packs are torn but not empty.

I grab the nearest one, slinging it over my shoulder, then reach for another. My hands shake, but I don’t stop.

Behind me, the Zmaj moves with effortless efficiency, lifting heavier crates like they weigh nothing. I don’t want to admit I need his presence, but it is reassuring. Dan works quickly, too, and for a moment, it seems like we might pull this off— then the wind shifts.

The scent hits before the sound. A foul, rotting stench that makes my stomach twist. I’m frozen as an eerie clicking noise rises over the dunes, followed by a deep, guttural growl. Forcing myself to move, I whip around. The sand stirs in the distance, ridges shifting as if something massive slithers beneath the surface.

That’s not a guster…

“Time’s up. Move!”

My heart lurches. I grab one last pack and bolt. The Zmaj is at my side, his tail sweeping behind him as his wings pop open. Then the sand explodes.