Page 22 of Risking Her Heart

ZAS’TU

Incredible. The fight in my treasure is beyond belief. The alpha I am riding fights my control but the bijass surges. I growl and punch it right behind its eye. It snorts, shaking its head and flinging snot and bile but stops fighting.

Katarina is curling herself up. Her right arm is broken, there is no mistaking the bad angle of it, yet she perseveres.

Leaning over as far as I can, I stretch my arm towards her. Her focus is on grabbing the reins. She is not waiting for me to save her; she is saving herself. The best I can do is help.

My mount’s feet slap the sands, closing the gap. I strain to the limits of flesh and bone. Almost. I almost have her. My fingers brush the air right over her wrist, but I cannot clamp down. Growling at the guster I try again.

Success!

Elation swells as my hand clamps onto hers. She gasps, head jerking back. Her eyes are wet, and I know how much pain she must be in, but she smiles. She has a hold of the reins of hermount, so keeping my hand closed over hers, I pull back while squeezing my legs on my mount.

The two gusters slow and at last come to a halt. I leap off of mine without letting go of her hand. She is still trapped and dangles until I am down and help free her feet from the stirrups. Cradling her to my chest, I lower her to the sands. She grunts and groans in pain, each noise a knife driving into my heart.

“Treasure,” I whisper, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Humans are not made for Tajss. They waste so much water. The pain in my chest is almost more than I can stand. It feels as if my heart must break or explode. Something.

“Hey,” she says, through gritted teeth panting in pain. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Always,” I say, not sure I understand all her words or not, but I get the gist.

“Zas,” she gasps, shaking her head.

“No, treasure, quiet. Rest. Need medic.”

“No, Zas, trouble,” she is looking past me and then I realize in my worry for her I have left the enemy to regroup.

I gently lie her onto the sands. The bijass surging in crimson tides, swamping my thoughts. Balling my hands into fists and growling I turn to face them.

The two Zmaj approach, but they are coming slow, without weapons. I do not care. They not only threatened my treasure, they hurt her. They will know pain.

The one to my left is slightly closer. I stare at the one on the right, not changing my gaze when I charge.

“Wait!” the left one cries, raising his hands up defensively.

There is no waiting. There will only be pain. Pain ten-fold what they have given to my Katarina. My vision is covered in red. I roar, leaping into the air, pulling back my fist.

I strike him on the side of his head. He stumbles to the side, tripping and falling. I whirl on the other one.

“No,” he says, backing away, palms facing me.

Narrowing my eyes I judge the distance between us. Part of me knows he is trying not to fight, but it doesn’t matter. The bijass is in control. He caused her pain; he will feel it. I am dominate.

Crouching, I move slowly closer. He doesn’t retreat, shaking his head. Patting the air with his hands. A growl slips. His eyes widen. He is mine.

One rush ahead and my fist connects with the underside of his jaw. I put all I have into this one punch. He lifts up. His feet free of the sands.

I follow through with my other fist into his gut. His breath rushes from his lungs. He stumbles away but I stalk forward, intent on doing more.

He growls. Hands ball to fists. Eyes narrow.

As I close, he swings. I dodge his clumsy punch. As it whiffs past my face I strike with my tail, sweeping his legs.

He drops to the ground, and I am on top. I pound on him. His head rocks side-to-side. Blood sprays from mouth and nose. I don’t stop until he quits fighting.

As I rise off of him the other one tackles me. We fall to the sands in a tangle. Rolling over and over. Striking as we can. I take as many blows as I give.

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