Page 17 of Risking Her Heart

One thing I quickly learned after the crash is to not think about where my food comes from. On the ship I knew, but I also didn’t see it happen, making it very easy to push that out of my conscious thoughts.

Since we’ve crashed, I’ve had to serve my time on the butcher patrol. That’s what I call it anyway. One of the daily tasks, especially since the Zmaj arrived and began hunting, is to butcher the meat they have killed for us.

It’s unpleasant work under the best of circumstances and a lot of my fellow survivors cannot do it. They get sick trying. All that experience has gotten me to the point I can eat pretty much anything. Which I think would be true no matter what if you get hungry enough.

Zas’tu sets the pan onto the sand where it continues sizzling. He plucks a piece of the meat out, heedless of the skillet’s or the meat’s heat. His protective scales keep him safe, but he’s also smart enough to know I don’t have that protection. He tosses the piece of meat back and forth between his hands until it cools and then offers it to me.

I thank him as I accept it and then take a bite. It’s tough and chewy but also flavorful. I smile and nod making a ‘hmm’ sound as I masticate it. He watches, not eating himself. I gesture to the food, and he looks at it but shrugs.

“Good?”

“Mmm,” I say trying to keep my manners and not speak with my mouth full. I finally chew it enough to swallow so I can talk. “Yes. Very much.”

To reinforce my pleasure with his cooking I take another bite. His smile broadens and he grabs a piece of the meat, poppingthe entire thing into his mouth at once. He flashes a greasy smile then sets about breaking down the tent and loading our mounts.

11

ZAS’TU

The epis seems to have handled her body for which I am grateful. The fear I felt when I could not wake her was overwhelming. I was losing her. Again. It was as if my heart had been ripped out, leaving nothing but an empty hole in my chest.

She is now well and seems happy. We’ve been traveling for four days since she passed out. My thoughts drift to our lovemaking. We haven’t done that since that first night, but that’s okay. I am not going to push myself on her. She needs time and space to come to terms with what I know. That my heart is hers.

My brothers have talked of this. The humans are from the Stars. The running theory, among the more philosophically inclined, is that their souls are of Tajss, but their genetics are of the Stars. Some of them know, some of them come to realize later, each of them is unique. I know, in my heart, that she is my wife returned. Knowing is enough, for now. In time she will come to terms with the notion. Besides none are better than mine.

We ride alongside one another in easy, comfortable silence. When I glance over, she turns her head and smiles. My heartsspeed up. I love the way her smile lights up her face. Her eyes dance with intelligence and joy. On impulse I reach over and take her hand. It’s small, soft, and delicate. I rub my thumb on the back, and we ride.

There are few landmarks in this part of the continent. I study the sparse markings of the desert, looking for the points I memorized. Spotting a few, I am sure that we’ll be in sight of our destination by the time the suns set.

If the information from the captive is correct.He could be lying.

The sudden realization causes a coldness that creeps out of my chest. Worry fills my head, and I look at Katarina. I am riding into danger with her. I knew this, of course, but I wasn’t thinking about the entire journey being a trap.

“What?” she asks.

For the briefest of moments, I’m distracted by the way her forehead wrinkles when she frowns. Her thin eyebrows pull together and her eyes narrow while her nose scrunches. It’s cute, intriguing, and makes me want to kiss that crinkle away. But this is not the time. I shake my head.

“Danger,” I say.

She nods understanding and then looks around. I do the same. I don’t see anything wrong, but my mind plays out dozens of possible scenarios. Things I would do if I were setting a trap. New ideas come, even as I constantly scan our surroundings.

“Zas,” she whispers, jerking my attention to her.

She is pointing off to the far side. I follow her indicating finger. The rolling dunes look off. I close my protective lenses to filter the suns’ light, frowning. At the top of one of the dunes is astrange shape. It’s too blocky to be natural. The Order would never leave something like that exposed.

“See it,” I say, pulling on the reins to stop my mount.

Her mount shuffles to a stop following the alpha’s lead. I rub the back of my head, debating the best thing to do. It could be bait. Designed to pull us in. Or it could be something else. What though?

“Look?” she asks, twisting in her saddle so she’s facing me.

I shake my head, wishing that I could shake out the tingling sensation of worry that covers my scalp. It’s not very far to the object. I could gallop the guster and get there in very little time. But what if it’s a trap I’m riding into?

And do I take her with me? Or leave her here? Is that part of the trap? To separate us?

My thoughts spin fast. I play out the different paths, trying to decide which is the most likely result of all of every possibility. In the end, only one path makes the most sense. Right or wrong, I make my decision.

“Ride to,” I say, nodding towards it. “You come.”

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