Page 13

At the movement, the magnis releases a deep, rumbling snarl.

Its jaw gapes open, revealing rows of jagged teeth stained with old blood and bits of flesh wedged between them.

The rancid odor of spoiled meat drifts to me.

Two drooping blue antennae twitch on top of its head, while its long, blue tail, studded with sharp spikes, whips back and forth in agitation.

I take another step forward, planting myself firmly between the little female and the creature.

The rocky path beneath my feet is uneven and littered with loose gravel and larger stones, and to my left, the ground drops away into a steep ravine choked with twisted roots and thorny undergrowth.

There’s no room for error. One wrong move, and I won’t just lose the fight, I’ll fall.

The magnis lowers its head, and its muscles coil tightly beneath its scaly hide as it prepares to strike.

The guttural rumble from its chest deepens, and I recognize the signs of a young, overconfident male.

An older magnis would have the good sense to steer clear of a Laediriian warrior armed with a blade, but this one is foolish enough to test me.

With a roar, the creature lunges. It’s nothing but a blur of claws and teeth hurtling toward me, its talons aimed for my chest. I twist aside just in time, my boots skidding on the loose rocks, and pivot into a counterstrike. My sword swings upward in a swift, precise arc.

The steel of my blade meets the creature’s thick hide with a sickening crunch, driving deep into the creature’s hip. The impact reverberates through my arm like a hammer blow, but I hold firm. The magnis lets out a piercing screech and staggers back as thick, dark green blood pours from the gash.

The magnis thrashes its head from side to side as if it’s trying to shake off the pain.

Saliva flies from its open mouth, landing on me.

Then it rears back onto its hind legs, and emits a deafening roar that echoes through the trees.

Yellow eyes gleam, wide and wild, as they focus on me, and I know the beast is going to seek its revenge.

The creature lunges again, faster this time. I dodge to the side. A gust of air brushes past as its claws miss me by a hair.

Out of the corner of my eye, sudden movement draws my attention. It’s the little female. She’s stepped closer, and I watch as her hand darts down to the ground and her fingers curl around a rock. I start to shout, to tell her to stop, but it’s already too late.

With a yell that stuns even the magnis, she pulls her arm back and lets it fly loose. The stone strikes the magnis in the snout with a loud crack, stunning it mid-lunge.

The beast lets out a surprised snarl and whips its head around toward her.

A cold wave of fear tears through me.

But the little female doesn’t flinch. Instead, she picks up another rock and hurls it. This one hits the beast directly in its large unblinking eye.

An eye that’s now focused directly on the human standing just paces away. She stands her ground, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths.

The foolish, brave, infuriating female.

But it’s exactly the opening I need. I surge forward and bring my sword down, slicing through the sinewy muscles of its hind leg.

Dark green blood pours from the wound, splattering across the ground.

The beast lets out a furious screech as it rears back in pain.

Before it can recover, I pivot and drive my blade deep into its soft, exposed belly.

Blood sprays out, splattering across my face and chest as the magnis staggers forward, its strength beginning to falter.

I pull my sword free, then plunge it one last time, deep into its large heart. The magnis lets out a final, rattling cry before it crashes to the ground. Its body shudders once, then goes still.

Heavy silence settles over the jungle. The only sounds are the rasp of my breath and the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the breeze. Then?—

“Vrok!” Her voice cuts through the quiet around us.

Before I can react, she crashes into me, throwing her arms around me and burying her head against my chest.

I freeze. She’s so much smaller than me, and yet the warmth of her body pressed against me hits me harder than the magnis ever could. I feel her breath hitch against my skin as she draws in a deep, shaking gulp and lets it out in a muffled sob.

“You’re okay.” Her voice is muffled as she speaks, but I can still hear the relief in every syllable of her words.

The warmth of her touch seeps through me, disarming me. I’m not used to this—this softness. This closeness. For a long moment, I don’t even know what to do with my hands. I awkwardly hold them up like a fool before letting one settle hesitantly on her back.

“I told you to stay back.” My voice comes out in a growl, but it lacks any real bite.

“I thought it was going to win,” she says before pulling back just enough to look up at me.

Her gray eyes glisten with unshed tears, and for a heartbeat, my chest clenches in fear that she’s been hurt.

But then I realize they’re tears of relief.

Of happiness that I survived, and my chest unclenches.

“When that thing jumped, I thought—” Her voice breaks, and she shakes her head like she can physically banish the thought.

Our eyes lock, and it almost feels as if I can see her spirit in those deep, expressive eyes.

I shrug my shoulders. “I’ve fought worse,” I say gruffly, trying to brush it off.

She lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re unbelievable.” She brushes a strand of her golden hair from her face with trembling fingers.

“You didn’t really think I’d let something that small kill me, did you?” I ask.

Her eyes roll skywards in that strange human gesture I still don’t fully understand.

But there’s a flicker of something in her expression that I don’t recognize.

Something that makes my heart pound faster and louder.

She takes a step back, but her hands linger on my chest before they drop to her sides.

I instantly feel the loss of them.

“Maybe you’re not as fragile as I thought,” I murmur without thinking. I don’t know why I say it, but I do.

She chuckles quietly. It’s a weak sound, but by the Goddesses, it’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard. It makes something clench in my chest and sends a wave of warmth through me. Warmth I’m not used to feeling.

“And you’re not as invincible as you think.” She reaches out and pats me on the chest, right over the spot where my dormant amoris heart lies. “Maybe try to remember that the next time you throw yourself at a giant lizard, big guy.”

Her tone is light and teasing, but there’s a flicker of worry in her eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, my voice softening despite myself.

She exhales slowly, and her whole body visibly relaxes. But she doesn’t remove her hand from me. Instead, her fingers curl against my skin. Heat shoots straight to my cock, hardening it in an instant.

Her touch wasn’t meant to arouse. I know that. But she’s so close, and she’s warm and alive and flushed with concern for me. Her lips are parted and her eyes are bright, and her sweet scent fills my lungs.

When her hand finally falls away, I can still feel the burning imprint of it as if her touch is seared into my flesh. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and her chest rises and falls too quickly.

Her gaze drops to my mouth. Just for a heartbeat. Then, it jerks back up to meet my eyes. Her tiny, blunt teeth bite down onto her plump bottom lip, and I nearly groan out loud.

Sard.

Dania snorts, drawing my attention and shattering the moment. She’s calm now, and her long, spiked tail lazily moves back and forth as she watches us with idle curiosity.

The sun has sunk lower, and the air is cooling with the approach of dusk. A light breeze blows, bringing with it the metallic scent of spilled blood from the fallen magnis as it seeps into the ground. The smell is so thick and cloying, it coats the back of my throat.

She follows my gaze to the creature’s lifeless body. She looks away almost immediately and draws in a shuddering breath, as if looking too long might bring it back to life. I can practically hear the thoughts spinning through her head.

Without thinking, I reach out to brush my fingers against her arm, but my hand pauses in the air just before making contact. I shouldn’t touch her. “Are you?—”

“I’m fine,” she interrupts. Too quickly. She glances up at me, and for a moment, her mask slips and I see the visceral fear and relief that haunts her. She shakes her head, and it’s gone.

I should say something, offer her some words of comfort, but I don’t know how. Soft words and tender emotions don’t come easily to me. There’s never been any use for them before.

I clear my throat and raise my eyes to study the terrain around us. “We should move on. The scent will attract other creatures. We don’t want to be here when they arrive.”

She exhales slowly, then gives a small nod. I grab Dania’s reins and lead the way. The human falls in beside me, walking so close that every so often, her arm brushes against mine.

Around us, the jungle begins to stir again.

Liseks call from high above, their trilling voices echoing through the trees.

Insectoids flit through shafts of golden light, catching the last rays of the sun before night falls.

It’s like the world has shrugged off what just happened and returned to its own rhythm. But I haven’t.

All I can think about is the female beside me. This reckless, stubborn, brave female, who is far fiercer than I could’ve imagined.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She didn’t run. She stood her ground against a magnis.

I thought her first encounter with one of Laedirissae’s beasts would shatter her, leave her trembling and pleading to be taken back to the safety of the village. But she didn’t.

Her breaths are coming too fast, and her fingers are clenched into fists at her sides. She’s shaken, yes, but not broken. There’s steel hidden beneath all that softness, and it unsettles me more than I’d ever admit.

Because it doesn’t match what I’ve believed all this time. What I’ve wanted to believe, because it was easier than questioning the only guiding voice I’ve known.

As soon as the humans appeared on our world, my father began ranting about them.

How they were a threat. A sickness that would spread through our people if we let them.

He would speak of their weakness, their frailty, their chaos.

That they’ll soften us. Ruin us. That they need to be cast out into the jungle before it’s too late.

I believed him. How could I not, when those words came from my father’s mouth again and again, until they buried themselves so deep, they became part of me? And I repeated his words, convinced they were truth. Convinced that any compassion for the humans was dangerous.

Until now.

Emily should have confirmed everything I’ve been told by my father. She’s small and quiet with wide gray eyes that look pained.

But she doesn’t feel like a burden. Or dangerous.

Every time she speaks, every time she shows me who she really is cracks form in the foundation I’ve been standing on.

And I don’t know what scares me more: that she might prove my father wrong or that I want her to.