Page 57 of Dare

A boa.

It lunged, its armored body flaying like a lasso. I pitched sideways, and the boa reared, rising as tall as me. With each thwap of its tail, that far-reaching hiss slithered through the wild. The serpent lashed, and I blocked the strike with my forearm, twisting and ramming my opposite elbow into the predator.

Pissed off, the creature opened its mouth to brandish a pair of fangs. I knew a fauna display when I saw one. This was the beauty’s territory, which made me the intruder.

Out of options, I cranked my arm backward as I had a dozen times with Pyre, then catapulted my fist and punched the boa in the face.

The creature lost its balance and swung over the side. Half of its body dangled there, the other half hooking onto the branch.

She wouldn’t stay that way forever. Not even close.

It was fun going up, but not fun going down. The prince stalled, his visage torn between annoyed, stressed, and flabbergasted as I shimmied down the trunk.

As I caught up to him, he swore. “On my back.”

I should protest. My small body could fit into narrow places, but his limbs would cover distance faster. Also, this was no time for pride. As the serpent righted itself and located us, its eyes glittered with intent.

Strapping myself around the prince like a knapsack, I held fast while he hunkered to the ground. By the forest’s grace, we avoided getting impaled.

The second we hit the woodland floor, I launched off the prince. We bolted, sprinting down the aisle. My head twisted backward as our chaser shot forward, winding around boughs and snapping its fangs. In Summer, cobras were the fast and venomous ones. Boas were supposed to be neither.

Yet this one launched like a harpoon. And if it couldn’t infuse us with venom, it surely had the power to crush bones.

Shit. I’d lost the maybe-mango.

We flew through the bushes. Twigs cracked under my heels and broke skin. My short limbs struggled to keep up with the prince’s tall ones, so that he clamped my fingers in his and hauled me with him.

This wouldn’t work. The boa gained on us, flying in our direction through the trees.

I ripped my hand from the prince’s. Remembering the wire trap from earlier, I veered off course and charged down another path, praying this would work. Chances were, the boa fancied hot blood anyway.

As if to prove me right, the serpent torpedoed my way. Ignoring the prince’s roar, I double-backed and swerved past the serpent as it rocketed to the understory. Furious, it whipped around and followed. Barreling the way I’d come, I propelled down the lane, searching and spotting the silver wire.

My feet barreled past the thread, snapping it in half. I tripped over a fallen log and smacked face-first into the dirt, then flipped around as tarantulas fell like gadgets from more silver strings. Orange and black dotted the insects’ fuzz, and drool leaked from their oversized fangs, likely capable of sucking blood by the tankard.

The vampiric insects intercepted the boa. They spit more intricate strands, the webs netting my predator.

Registering what they’d caught, the tarantulas changed their minds and shot back into their nests, uninterested in reptile meat. Meanwhile, the creature thrashed, getting more tangled.

Compassion tugged on me. If I freed the poor animal, it would either tear me to shreds or squeeze the air from my lungs.

I hesitated, then crawled toward the fuming reptile. It flailed about in panic, then paused, watching as I sawed at the web with my dagger, which did nothing.

Switching to my hands, I went to work untying the threads. They were strong and more intricate than most sailing knots. My fingers traced the lacework, located every complex kink, and unraveled them one by one.

At last, the web collapsed. The boa sprang forth with a hiss. I clambered backward, one hand on my weapon and the other planted on the dirt. Hunching over, I lowered my head in solidarity and maintained eye contact.

Stupefied, the boa hovered and regarded me with skeptical eyes, its vertical pupils scanning my deferential pose. My heart clattered. This might have been a stupid thing to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to let a creature suffer. And I yearned to share The Phantom Wild with its dwellers, not steal it from them.

After another moment, the serpent narrowed its gaze. Then it spiraled in the opposite direction and vanished.

I slumped. Then I yelped as a pair of hands locked under my arms and yanked me off the ground. The villain prince flopped me over his shoulder like a flounder and quit the scene, his arm flexing around my ass like a steel band.

I kicked. I scratched. I pounded my fists.

The fiend shook me like a rattle. “Cease.”

Reaching around, I tore open his sheath, snatched his knife, and pressed the tip against his waist. I could have used my own dagger, but stealing his felt more satisfying.

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