Page 9 of Surrendering Her Heart (Red Planet Fated Mates #10)

8

ZAMIS

T he desert wind howls, carrying the scent of sand and blood. I stand at the edge of the crevice, wings half-extended, muscles coiled with unease. My gaze sweeps over the endless dunes, searching for any sign of movement, any hint that the vorkesh still lurks beneath the surface.

Behind me, the humans shift, catching their breath. Fragile things, yet they fight to survive in a world that does not welcome them. My eyes land on Ava. She is fierce, reckless, stubborn—a challenge at every turn. My dragon rumbles inside me, a deep, instinctual recognition I refuse to acknowledge.

I turn away.

“We cannot stay here,” I say, my voice rough with exhaustion. “We must rejoin the others before nightfall.”

Dan grunts in agreement. “If they’re still alive.”

Shaun shoots him a glare. “Don’t say that.”

I ignore their bickering. My mind is elsewhere—on the Order, on what I once believed. I would have given my life for them. Now, I have no cause, no purpose. Only this mission, these humans, and the pull toward Ava that I cannot shake.

I exhale, long and slow. “Move quickly. The desert does not forgive weakness.”

Ava steps beside me, too close. “You were watching me.”

I meet her gaze. “You are reckless.”

She lifts a brow. “You keep saying that. And yet, here I am.”

My dragon stirs. I clench my jaw. This is not the time for distractions.

“Stay close,” I say, my voice lower now, rougher. “I will not save you twice.”

Ava snorts but does not argue.

We move out, leaving the safety of the rocks behind. There are still miles to go before we find the others, and beyond that, the outpost waits. I do not know what I will find there, only that the path ahead will not be easy.

And neither will resisting Ava.

The suns hang low in the sky, bleeding across the horizon in deep reds and purples. Dusk will come soon. We need to be faster.

Shaun and Dan follow my brothers who are in the lead, keeping their eyes on the path, but Ava lingers near me. Too near. Her presence is a constant pressure, a distraction I cannot afford.

She walks with purpose, shoulders tense but head high. I still feel her warmth from when my hand covered hers. Still remember the way her breath hitched at my touch. My dragon presses against my will, pushing, urging me to claim what is already his.

Not now. Not ever.

“We cannot risk further delay,” I say, looking out across the darkening dunes.

Ava wipes at the sweat gathering at her temple, her breathing steady despite the exhaustion.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“It is not knowing I doubt. It is acting on it.”

“I thought you were done lecturing me.” She huffs, but there is no real anger behind it.

“You are still reckless. I am not done yet,” I say, glancing at her.

The corners of her mouth quirk, a small shift, a fraction of amusement. It unsettles me more than her defiance. Ahead, Thargar raises a hand, halting us. I inhale deeply, tasting the air. Something is wrong.

“What is it?” Ava whispers, stepping closer.

I scan the horizon, staring through the deepening twilight. The desert is still. Too still. No wind. No shifting sand. The silence presses in, unnatural, thick with unseen weight. Then I hear it. Distant movement.

Small, deliberate. Not the vorkesh.

Something else. Someone else.

“We are not alone,” I say, unslinging my weapon and tightening my grip around the hilt.

Ava’s breath catches. Shaun curses under his breath. Dan already has his knife out. We need to get back to the others. I step in front of Ava before I can think better of it. She stiffens, but she does not argue. The night grows darker, and in the distance, shadows move.

Waiting. Hunting.

The shapes move in the distance, just beyond clear sight, slipping between the dunes like ghosts. My breath slows. The Order.

“You see them too,” she says, tensing.

“Scouts.”

“They know we’re here,” Thargar says, pulling his lochaber.

“They have known,” I say. “They have been tracking, waiting for us to tire.”

Ava grips her weapon, eyes scanning the desert.

“Then let’s make them regret waiting,” she says grimly.

“No,” I snap. My voice is harsher than intended. “We are exposed. We cannot fight them here.”

“So what? Run?” Dan asks.

I look at Thargar, then at Urokol. Running will only work if they don’t want us, yet. Which means they’re herding us. It doesn’t look like there are very many of them. Thargar shrugs then Urokol nods.

“Yes,” I tell the humans.

“Fine. We run,” Ava says with a sharp exhale and a nod.

There is no time to waste, so I grab her wrist and break into a sprint. The others follow, their footfalls pounding against the sand. The desert is treacherous at night, but staying is death.

Behind us, the figures move, but they are not pursuing. They are waiting and I know their plan. They do not need to catch us, only need to shepherd us to where they want. We have to make the outpost. The shelter is our one hope of surviving their attack.