Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 242728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1214(@200wpm)___ 971(@250wpm)___ 809(@300wpm)
“Let me go!” She shoved me, ripping herself out of my embrace and holding up her hands. Our eyes connected, and for a single heartbeat, I saw the same longing in her that I felt in me. She felt it too. Felt the connection that couldn’t be explained. The spirit-true knowledge that our lives were intertwined even if those lives were forgotten.
I stepped carefully toward her. “Come home with me. Let me take care of you like you took care of me.”
Her gaze landed on my outstretched hand.
A small moan escaped her beautiful lips.
Her spine suddenly snapped backward.
She screamed as fire sparked and crackled from her fingertips. Some force that wasn’t her own yanked her onto her tiptoes, bending her painfully, presenting her chest to the sky just as lightning sliced across the clouds.
I leaped for her, terror tearing through me.
What’s happening?
“Stop!” I bellowed at the storm. “Let her go!”
She hung contorted and trapped in the droplet-thick sky, glowing as bright as the sun. She jerked as another rush of fiery showers spluttered from her palms, extinguished almost instantly by the rain.
And then, she fell.
Crashing against the earth, she collapsed onto her side. Panting hard, she looked as if whatever force had flowed through her had stolen every shred of life she had left.
I shot to her, landing on my knees as I rolled her carefully onto her back and touched her face. “What happened? What can I do?”
But it was too late.
Whatever had happened tonight—whatever toxins she’d taken and trances she’d stepped into took its toll.
Her eyes rolled back.
Her arms flopped to the ground.
Unconsciousness claimed her.
I looked up, studying the plains, searching for any signs of Nhil hunters who might’ve ventured into the storm to search for her. Dawn did its best to illuminate the horizon, all while the rain kept drenching it in darkness.
My instincts remained quiet.
No others were out here.
No one would see me steal her.
Standing, I bent and slipped my arms beneath her mud-covered body. With a slight grunt, I hoisted her into my embrace.
With a final look at the horizon where the Nhil lived in their hide-covered homes and worshiped their punishing flames, I hugged the girl close to me and ran in the opposite direction.
* * * * *
My nape prickled as I reached the outskirts of the grasslands.
Something watched me.
Hugging the sleeping girl closer, I padded into the small meadow surrounding the outcropping of trees, river, and hillside where our cave nestled. “Zetas? I know you’re there.” My eyes scanned the trees and scraggy bushes, searching for the source of my awareness.
Dawn had turned into day, and the rain had finally dried itself out.
I’d run part of the way—until I was sure no one was following us. After that, I’d walked. I’d cradled the girl as gently as I could, unwilling to bruise her by running.
And now, I was home, and the starvation and thirst that’d plagued me when I’d woken from my fevers returned in full force, making my stomach snarl with need.
A twig cracked as I continued moving toward the small embankment that led to the cave’s entrance. I smiled and didn’t bother looking over my shoulder.
Salak’s hunters could sneak up on rabbits and deer without raising alarm but with me? I always sensed them—sensed their spirit rather than their aliveness. They didn’t have to move or even breathe, and I could tell exactly where they were before they pounced.
The pups hated it.
It meant they could never sneak and tackle me...unless I played dumb and allowed it.
Reaching the base of the gentle incline, I turned to face the trees and dappling light. “Zetas...I know you’re on sentry. Here.” I raised the girl in my arms, presenting her to the peaceful forest. “If you’re so wary of what I’ve brought, see for yourself.”
The shadows beneath a bush with purple berries shivered and moved. Yellow eyes appeared as giant paws and sharp horns untangled themselves from the undergrowth. Zetas padded forward, her pelt glossy and more silver than black. Just like all the wolves, she played her part in this family, joining Salak’s pack after being a lone traveller, arriving only a few days after me. I’d named her Zetas because it meant alone.
Because of that, I’d always felt a kinship to her. A bond that went beyond the family we had all become and recognised similar struggles of walking a lonely world with no one.
I smiled at the wolf as she stopped before me and reached her snout forward, straining to sniff the girl without coming too close.
“She was alone, like us,” I said. “Now, she’s a part of us.”
Zetas sneezed and shook herself, her fur twinkling in the storm-weak sun. Licking her lips, she edged nearer for a better sniff. Her eyes narrowed as she ran her nose from the girl’s cheek, along her arm, hip, and dangling foot.