Page 16 of Risking Her Heart

KATARINA

Iball my hands into fists. If I’m going to be killed at the very least, I’m going to make a good showing for myself. I know that it won’t be effective. Humans aren’t supposed to be on this hellhole, but maybe I can bruise my killer. Leave some kind of mark that will last for at least a few minutes. Some testament that I existed.

Something reaches through the opening. As it moves down towards the tie, keeping the flaps closed, I scream and leap.

“Gahhh!!!!!”

I punch through the fabric of tent. My fist connects with something that feels like the steel of the ship walls. My hand explodes with pain. I’m pretty sure I just broke something, but it doesn’t matter because the thing grunts.

Take that you son of a bastard!

I retreat from the flaps. I’ve done my worst. I know it’s not enough, but there’s nothing more I can do. I try to prepare myself to die. Part of me feels like I should be grateful because Ishould have died when I fell of the cliff. At least Zas’tu gave me much more time.

And I got laid one last time. Best lay of my life by far. The shadow moves and I grit my teeth. This is it.

“Kat?” Zas’tu asks.

“Huh?”

Stupid. My thoughts aren’t moving fast enough. Where is his voice coming from? What is happening?

“Me,” Zas’tu says then the shadow moves.

I bend my knees, ready to launch myself at the monster one more time then, it hits me. That’s him at the door. Oh. I hit him.

“Zas?” I ask, blinking. It’s his hand. Shit. It’s him.

“That’s you? Where were you?”

He pulls the top half of the flaps apart far enough to poke his head through. He sees me in my defensive crouch which I know must look laughable, but he restrains himself. Another little thing that I really appreciate. When he flashes his crooked grin, my knees grow so weak I can’t remain in my tense crouching position, dropping onto them.

“Okay, you?” he asks.

“Now,” I say, shuddering as I exhale heavily. “Where were you?”

He reaches through and unties the flap then walks inside. As the doorway opens, I see a small fire crackling outside which is why his shadow looked so big. I also catch the sounds of meat crackling and the scent of something that makes my mouth water and my stomach growl.

“Breakfast,” he says, shrugging, “hungry?”

“Yes,” I say, tears filling my eyes.

The reaction is unexpected, but I also realize that it’s relief. I thought I was a dead woman. Knowing that not only am I not going to die, but that he’s here and protecting me, it’s a lot. Zas frowns and comes across the tent in a stride, dropping to his knees as he cups my face in his hands.

“Wrong?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. I love the raspy sensation of his scales on my cheeks as I twist my face against them. “No. I’m… I’m good.”

“Good?” he arches an eyebrow, tilting his head to one side.

How do I explain to him what is happening? Our limited words of shared language make complex concepts like this hard to share. I resolve, not for the first time, to learn his language. Most of the girls that came from the jungle with them have done it, so it’s possible. I’ll just have to work at it.

“Yes. Food?”

He smiles and my heart pitter-patters when I see that gap in his teeth and the absolute delight that lights up his face.

“Yes!” he exclaims, rising and pulling me up with him.

He moves his hands to my shoulders and guides me out of the tent. The smell of the sizzling meat makes my mouth water before I see it. Outside the tent he steps around and takes a skillet off the small fire. Four pieces of long, slender meat sizzle in what I assume are their own juices.

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