Page 18

And then the narrow path we’re following disappears, the ground ahead drops away abruptly, revealing a sheer cliff overlooking a churning river, swollen beyond its banks. Vrok pulls Dania to a halt just in time, and we both stare down at the rushing water below.

“There’s no way across,” I say, my voice trembling.

“We don’t need to cross,” Vrok says, dismounting quickly. “We just need to survive.”

Before I can respond, our pursuers burst through the trees behind us.

Unlike the Tussoll warriors who carry swords and bows and arrows, the Pugj fighters carry nothing.

They don’t need to. Their weapons are their serrated teeth and knife-like claws that look as if they were built to tear flesh and maim.

“Get down!” Vrok shouts, pulling me off Dania just as an arrow whistles past my head.

My feet hit the ground hard. Vrok’s already moving, unfastening the satchels strapped to Dania’s back and throwing them over his shoulder before slapping her hard on the flank.

The eponir lets out a startled screech before she bolts back down the slope.

Her hoofbeats fade quickly as she disappears into the rain-soaked jungle.

My chest tightens as I watch her go. We’re completely alone now without any way to escape. I want to scream. I want to fight. I want to curl into a ball and disappear. Every instinct in my body is lighting up in panic, screaming at me to do something . But there’s nowhere to go.

The Pugj and Tussoll fan out in a practiced sweep, blocking off any potential escape. Their movements are slow and deliberate, like a pack of lions closing in on its prey. They know we’re cornered, and they’re savoring it.

The Pugj, who look like some alien version of Bigfoot, snarl and growl low in their throats as they flex their sharp claws in anticipation. One of them locks eyes with me and smacks his lips. A long string of drool slips from his open mouth. He’s staring at me like I’m dinner.

The Tussoll warriors, meanwhile, are eerily silent. Their faces look like they’re carved from stone, and their weapons gleam in the rain. They’re here to finish what they started.

A tall, broad-shouldered warrior steps forward. “Surrender, Anuriix trash.” His words are bitten off in a clipped voice. “Give the human to us, and we might let you live.”

His gaze moves over me, and I can see the lust in his eyes.

Oh shit. My heart slams hard against my ribs, and I feel like I can’t breathe as panic begins to claw at the edges of my mind.

A thought strikes me like lightning through the storm. If we die here, no one will ever know what happened to me.

My friends will probably search for me. They most likely already are, but eventually they’ll give up and assume one of the dinosaurs got me. And Lily? What will she think? Well, that depends on whether she even survives this planet.

I glance at Vrok. He hasn’t moved. Not an inch.

He stands just a couple of inches in front of me, protecting me even now. His eyes are locked on our pursuers, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he tries to come up with a way out of this mess.

“We can’t fight them all,” I whisper, barely able to get the words past the fear threatening to choke me.

“I know,” he replies calmly.

He glances over his shoulder to the steep drop and the river behind us, and for the first time, I notice that his eyes aren’t pure silver. There are golden flecks in the irises. Flecks that swirl and expand, threatening to turn into a raging fire. A fire that gives me a flicker of hope.

His gaze moves from the churning river below, and his eyes lock with mine. They soften.

“Do you trust me?”

“What?” I gasp out. I’m soaked to the bone and trembling with fear, and he’s asking me what?

“Do you trust me, Emily?” he repeats, a little louder this time. His voice cuts through the storm as his hand reaches back and closes around mine.

I blink at him. My breath hitches in my chest. I don’t know why, but?—

“Yes,” I whisper. It comes from somewhere deep and desperate inside me. The word feels like I’m throwing myself off a cliff.

“Good,” he says. And then, he pulls me toward an actual cliff.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the Tussoll warriors raise a bow and aim it. Time seems to slow down to a crawl as he draws the string tight.

“Jump!” Vrok roars.

I barely have time to react before he pulls me with him, and together, we plunge over the edge of the cliff. For a split second, we’re flying, suspended in the raging storm with the river roaring beneath us like an open mouth ready to devour us.

Then, gravity kicks in, and we’re pulled downward. Wind whips past me, and my stomach lurches as the river rushes up to meet us, its surface churning with white foam. I hit the water hard, and it feels like being pummeled by a thousand fists.

Cold explodes across my skin, stealing the air from my lungs.

I try to scream, but water rushes into my mouth and nose.

Everything is a dark, confusing blur. I’m spinning.

Up is down and left is right. I claw at the water, trying to straighten myself, trying to decide which way is the surface as my lungs scream in protest.

I think of my cousin. The silly cat memes she’d send me just cause she knew they made me laugh, her fierce hugs, and her courageous heart. I think of my friends. Of never seeing them again. Never hearing their laughter and their soothing words. I’ll never get to see Vrok smile. If he ever smiles.

No. I won’t die like this. I’m going to fight. To find Lily. To see my friends again and hope they’ll forgive me. To see Vrok.

I fight harder, kicking with all my strength to break the surface. When I finally do, I gulp in air, coughing and sputtering. The current is strong, stronger than me, and it has me in its grasp, sweeping me downriver through foam and debris and threatening to drag me under.

“Vrok!” I gasp out.

But there’s no answer.

Panic flares inside me again. He was right beside me, holding my hand when we jumped. Where is he? Did he?—

His deep, gravelly voice cuts through the noisy rush of the river. “Emily!”

Relief crashes over me when I spot his head bobbing at least twenty yards away and his broad shoulders cutting powerfully through the rough waters as he swims hard toward me.

“Swim to the bank! Go!” he yells, his voice barely audible over the rush of the water.

I don’t know where it comes from, but adrenaline surges through me, overriding the fatigue threatening to drag me under.

I force my arms and legs to move as I battle against the merciless pull of the current.

My muscles are screaming in protest, but I push on.

And the rocky shore draws closer with agonizing slowness.

My hand catches on a large log jutting out into the river.

I cling to it, gasping, and drag myself up inch by precious inch until finally I feel firm, solid ground beneath my feet.

The second I collapse on the bank, I’m coughing up water and mud, my body shaking so hard that my teeth clack together and I’m worried I might crack one.

Vrok is right behind me, pulling himself onto the bank with a grunt. He staggers a step before dropping to one knee. “We have to keep moving.”

I nod, too tired to speak. My legs feel like they’re made of jelly, and my chest burns with each breath I take, but I know he’s right.

Without another word, Vrok reaches for me. His hand is warm despite the chill soaking us both, and I grip it like it’s a lifeline I desperately need.

He pulls me to my feet. My legs buckle and I start to fall, but he doesn’t let go.

Together, we stumble into the jungle, each step slow and clumsy as he matches his pace to my slower one. The thick undergrowth closes around us like a green, dripping curtain as we leave the river, and the danger trailing us, behind.

We’re safe. For now.