Page 7 of Triplets for the Barbarians

It’s not enough.

Within seconds, he’s straddling me, laughing and snarling as he tries to tear my clothes off. I’m cursing like a sailor, trying to punch him wherever a punch can land, but he’s bigger and faster than me; over seven feet tall and a mountain of pure muscle, a vicious creature whose only goal is to have his way with me, to dominate me and destroy my very soul.

I’m not going down without a fight, though.

“The less you resist, the easier it’ll be!” he hisses, scars covering the right side of his face.

“Get off me!” I grunt and throw a left hook.

He smacks me in the face so hard my head is practically paralyzed for a few seconds, my view gone and replaced by sudden darkness before pain engulfs my brain and ripples outward. God, I hope he didn’t break my jaw.

Just then, the familiar hissing sound of a laser gun brings everything to a sudden halt. The marauder stills, his eyes wide with the horrifying realization of what just happened. I get a whiff of burnt flesh before I notice the back of his head. It’s a gruesome sight. He falls to the side, dead and gone, while I’m still trying to catch my breath.

Instinctively, I reach for my pistol.

“It’s me, Jewel,” Yossul says.

I freeze, staring at him as he cautiously approaches me. He got himself into quite the scrape, judging by the cuts and bruises running down his bare arms and legs, but he’s alive. And he’s holding the weapon that carbonized my assailant’s head. I don’t know how he was able to make it down here so quickly. I’m just thankful he did.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. My throat burns with terror, and I swallowed tears as I struggle to keep my composure before him.

“I should be asking you that,” he says, blinking slowly.

“I’m… Yeah, I think so. Fadai?”

“He’s fine.” Yossul frowns as he scans me from head to toe and notices the wound on my leg. “You are anything but okay, Jewel. I told you we were taking the lead.”

“Only two of them came after you. I had to deal with the others,” I reply, then take a deep breath and try to think of a better way to resolve this tense situation. We both have rivers of adrenaline currently coursing through us, and we need to be calmer before we can address the issue at hand. And frankly, I’m just thankful they’re both okay. There’s an ache in my chest when I think about losing them. “Let’s just talk about it back at the palace.”

“All right. Let me help you,” he says.

“I’m okay.”

But he doesn’t listen, nor does he care. Yossul moves like a shadow, holstering his weapon before he scoops me up in his strong arms and valiantly carries me out of the ravine. He holds me tight against his chest while I draw slow, measured breaths, having forgotten how small I am compared to him and Fadai. We’ve been so close to one another for so long, yet I’ve rarely had to rely on their physical strength and their massive size for my own support.

I feel so tiny and fragile.

So good.

So tired.

Fadai makes sure there are no survivors before we head back to the city. He sets our buggies on fire so no one can distinguish the tribal colors, then retrieves one of the still-functional Sky Tribe vehicles. We use it to drive back to the southern gate of Opal City, then launch one of our flares to signal the soldiers beyond the labyrinth walls that we made it back alive.

Before long, we’re back in the palace.

Solomon’s queens had one of the city’s medics practically dragged out of his bed to come in and take care of our injuries. My leg burn is the worst, but it will heal without any permanent damage to the muscle. I’ll have a scar to brag about later down the line. Until then, I’m to apply a special ointment on a daily basis until the skin heals and the tissue rebuilds as much as the burned area allows.

“I guess I won’t be wearing a dress and heels anytime soon,” I grumble as I sit on the edge of my bed, my cuts and bruises still stinging from the disinfectant serum.

The doctor, a man in his mid-fifties, carefully puts his first-aid kit back into a large leather bag, then gives me a sour look. “I suggest you take it easy for a couple of days, miss,” he says sternly.

I can’t take my eyes off his crooked horns, however. He’s a nimble fellow who reminds me of Kingo, truth be told. I think he is what Kingo would’ve looked like had he survived.

“That burn will give you some grief until the skin is healed. Try to keep it out of the sun, too, for as long as possible. I recommend wearing a bandage while you’re outdoors.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I reply with a soft smile. “I’ll be careful.”

“Your mates are fine, by the way. Nothing a bit of disinfectant won’t take care of,” he says.

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