Page 69 of Orc's Pretend Mate

“Vapas!” I scream.

He drives the Zmaj back until they crash into the wall. The second Zmaj whirls his lochaber, bringing the blade around to ready.

Everything is frozen. Between moments, I see a dozen possible scenarios that could happen. All of them dangerous, most of them bad. If I don’t do something, Vapas is going to be hurt. Or worse.

Despite the voice in my head screaming that this is stupid, I run in between the second Zmaj and Vapas. He’s thrusting towards Vapas’ back when I intercept. The point of the blade presseshard into my belly and though I feel a trickle of blood he stops it in enough time that it doesn’t penetrate.

“Move,” the Zmaj hisses.

I grab the shaft of the lochaber, pushing back. It’s not going to stop him and I know it. All I can do right now is show my determination. And, if nothing else, it hides the way my hands are shaking in terror.

“Don’t do this,” I say.

“He attacked,” the Zmaj says.

Behind us, Vapas and the other Zmaj wrestle. I can’t see what is happening, but I hear it. The smacks of flesh hitting flesh, with no idea of who is hitting who. The Zmaj I’m facing growls and jerks the lochaber back.

I try to keep my grip on the shaft but the wood is polished and smooth, my hands slide down until they catch on the piece of metal that attaches the bottom of the curved blade to the shaft.

The metal feels so cold it almost burns. I’m acutely aware of the sharpness of that blade that with little more than a thought could end my life.

“Please,” I beg.

It’s the only thing I can do. Beg. I can’t fight him. Can’t stop him from doing whatever he wants. The similarities to Todd are not lost on me, even in this moment, but with Todd I let it happen.

Not this time. I am not who I was.

The Zmaj’s green-yellow eyes bore into mine and I meet his gaze without flinching. My stomach flips and flops. Cold sweat beads on my skin. My mouth is dry and my head is pounding. Part ofme, a very big part, is absolutely certain that I’m going to die. I tighten my grip on the shaft, if nothing else it keeps my hands shaking.

“He attacked.”

The Zmaj narrows his eyes and pulls back on the shaft, trying to dislodge my grip, but clearly not wanting to stab me either. And there it is. Certainty hits like a geyser exploding inside my head. And with certainty comes power.

“He is scared and protecting me,” I say. I push the lochaber to the side and he lets me. The point of the blade no longer threatening my stomach, my breath comes easier. “Let me handle this.”

The Zmaj hesitates. I see the doubts playing across his face as clearly as the suns rise over the desert above us. It’s all the opening I need.

I let go of the lochaber and turn my back on him. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and a cold chill races down my spine, but I ignore all those indicators that I’m doing something stupid.

“Vapas!” I yell before I can even sort out what the hell is happening.

The two opponents are entangled together to the point it’d be almost impossible to tell which one is which, if they weren’t starkly different colors. I have no idea which of them is ‘winning’ and I don’t care.

My shouting does nothing to stop the fighting. I yell again, but they don’t even seem to know that I’m here. The other Zmaj comes to stand next to me, his lochaber held at his side but nolonger pointing at Vapas at least. Glancing in his direction he shrugs.

“Vapas, stop,” I demand, moving in to try and physically pull them apart, as if I’ll be able to do that.

I touch Vapas’ shoulder when suddenly I’m struck on the side of my head. I think it was an elbow, but I don’t know. I’m knocked back, stars spinning in my head, stumbling away from the fight.

“Phoebe!” Vapas yells. My vision is blurred, but his green shape looms close and then his arms are wrapped around and holding me. “Enough.”

Vapas is my anchor. Shapes move past and around. Sounds blur one into another. The certainty I’d felt shattered with the blow to my head. All I want right now is to cling to Vapas and never set foot outside his arms again.

As the world resolves back into solid shapes and sounds separate into words, I find myself. Vapas is barking back and forth with the two Zmaj. The three of them are playing some kind of weird blame game as to exactly whose fault it is that I was struck. I take a deep breath and then push off of Vapas.

“Stop. Please. Just. Stop.”

I punctuate each word while keeping pressure on the side of my head. My left eye is swelling, throbbing with pain.

---