Page 24 of Risking Her Heart

“Love, wait,” I whisper.

“Yes, calm brother,” one of the Zmaj says.

That surprise jerks my attention to them.

“Common? You speak?” I ask, using broken syntax as I’ve become accustomed to doing with Zas.

“Yes,” one of them says. “Quite well I think.”

“Wha—”

Zas rushes forward.

17

KATARINA

Iblink, trying to break free of the shock freezing me in place. The sound of Zas’ charge is loud, louder in my head than it probably is. The whoosh of his tail dragging on the sand, his feet slapping, the rustle of his opening wings.

The other two Zmaj exchange a glance, looking as surprised as I am. They move apart but it’s not going to be fast enough. Zas is rampaging. This is bad. We came seeking refuge. Help. If these Zmaj know Common then maybe we can negotiate, but if he hurts or kills them that will destroy any chance we have of it.

I don’t see any option, so I do the one thing that I can think of. I run forward and place myself right in his path.

He roars, wings opening to their full width and blocking out the suns. He stops, or tries to, but his momentum is carrying him forward. I try not to flinch, but I can’t help myself. Every muscle tenses as I wait for him to barrel over me.

Gritty sand tears at my face as it sprays from the force of him digging his feet in. His wings flap madly, forcing more of the gritviolently across. Turning to one side, I raise my arms to protect my face the best I can.

When no impact happens, I peek through one clenched eye. Zas looms over, huffing heavily. He shakes his head, tossing his hair around.

“Treasure,” he pants.

“Brother, calm,” one of the Zmaj says from behind me.

I open both eyes as I unclench my muscles. His eyes no longer have that reddish tint that gave him a slightly mad look.

“Zas?”

Tentatively I stretch my hand out until it rests on his chest. His hearts are beating so hard that they vibrate my fingertips. His gaze is fixed past me, on the two Zmaj.

“Back,” he growls.

Stepping into his arm, I turn to face them. The two Zmaj are carefully watching him and me too, but they don’t come any closer. Zas hooks one arm over my shoulder, possessive and protective.

“Peace,” one of the Zmaj says. “Brother?—”

“No,” Zas snaps, pulling me closer. “No brother. The Order is done.”

The two Zmaj glance at one another and then the speaker nods.

“Yes,” he says. “We know.”

“Know?” Zas asks, then he speaks rapid fire in his own language.

The next few moments pass as they talk in a language I cannot understand. My only gauge of it going well is that the tension in Zas’ arm over my shoulder and chest relaxes.

“What’s happening?” I ask as their conversation slows and stops.

“They know,” Zas says.

---