Page 46 of Primal Call

And then, from somewhere nearby, there was a scream.

Chapter nineteen

Jasper's heart clenched.

Someone was hurt. Badly. Every fiber of his being urged him to run toward the source of the scream, to offer aid, to do what he was trained for.

He looked up at Kyral, and then turned his gaze back towards the source of the sound. Kyral's eyes were already fixed on the same spot.

Kyral understood.

Jasper's heart swelled with gratitude. In that moment, he was glad that he'd met Kyral. For all of the dangers that came with him, the big Borraq had a sense of honor that Jasper had never seen before.

Kyral reached out and put a hand on Jasper's shoulder. "Be careful," he murmured.

They moved.

Despite Kyral's size, he was like a ghost as he slipped through the underbrush, barely making a sound. Jasper did his best to keep up, his heart pounding in his ears.

The sound came again, closer now. Voices, raised in rage, speaking words that Jasper couldn't quite make out. He swallowed.

Deep in the heart of the woods, they finally arrived at a vantage point.

Below them, two figures were back-to-back in the center of a small clearing, surrounded by three others. The strangers, and Skarn's crew/

Jasper's heart sank when he saw the state of the two in the middle. One of the strangers was down on one knee, his head hanging low. Blood dripped from a fresh wound, the red stark against his golden skin and the white snow.

The other warrior stood over him, standing protectively before his fallen comrade, breathing hard as he faced off against all three of his opponents.

They were young. Jasper hadn't been able to have a good look at them before, but now, studying them, it was obvious. Despite the hard lines of their muscles and the fierce glare in their eyes, the two strangers were still young adults. They reminded him of the fresh-faced twenty-year-olds that arrived on the front lines, barely out of school.

They weren't seasoned fighters. Against Skarn's seasoned, ruthless cunning, they were basically kids.

Skarn, Vorat, and Zorax fanned out, surrounding the two — or, rather, the one. The stranger who was still able to fight was badly outnumbered.

Jasper's stomach turned.

Beside him, Kyral was already assessing the situation. After a moment, he reached down to Zee at his side. The hound's eyes were fixed on the scene ahead of her, her ears pricked up. At Kyral's touch, she stiffened, haunches raised.

She understood her master's command.

Kyral pointed off to the side, giving Zee a specific angle to approach from. Obedient, Zee set off, her powerful body moving swiftly through the underbrush.

She was flanking the enemies. Kyral was going to attack from two sides at once.

Jasper and Kyral looked into each other's eyes and nodded, communicating without words. They didn't know who these two unknown warriors were, or whether they were telling the truth about wanting to save Jasper.

But like hell they were going to let Skarn's crew kill them.

With a roar, Kyral charged down the hill. Zee was a streak of scales and fur as she pounced from the side, her six legs carrying her faster than any earthly hound. She let out a piercing howl, and then she was there, sinking her sharp teeth into the flesh of Skarn's thick, muscular thigh.

With a warcry that was half bestial growl, half shout, Kyral slammed into Zorax. The two young warriors in the center of the clearing had barely had time to react before his massive form was with them, crashing into their enemies.

Jasper's heart was pounding. He was frozen for a moment, caught between the urge to rush down and help the downed warrior, and the bone-deep knowledge that he had to wait for his opening.

All he could do was watch — for now.

Kyral was a whirlwind of violence, his massive form moving faster than Jasper would have thought possible. He dodged the swings of the three opponents, weaving between them and landing blows of his own.

---