Page 4 of Surrendering Her Heart

My head fills with all the thoughts I have absolutely no time to be having. My ass warms and not just from the heat of the double red suns beating down on us. A moment later, he lifts me up as if I’m nothing more than a rag doll and sets me on my feet right at Shana’s side.

Dan is here as well, they both look from the Zmaj to me. Two other Zmaj are in the huddle too. I don’t really know why I’m up here but since I am, well I was, a soldier, they like my input sometimes. Shana’s eyes linger on the Zmaj for a long moment then back to me and she purses her lips. I’m sure she’s about to say something, so I cut her off.

“What’s the problem?” Then I see over her shoulder. A dark, roiling wall fills the horizon. My stomach hits the sand faster than I can swallow. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah,” Shana says.

A wall of dust and sand churns in the distance, driving towards us and moving fast. Too fast.

“We can’t outrun that,” Dan says grimly.

No, we can’t. My mind races, scanning for options. There’s no cover out here, nowhere to wait it out. The only chance is to push forward and hope we reach the outpost in time.

“We move,” I say forcefully. “Faster.”

The others don’t argue. There’s no time. The Zmaj warrior falls into step beside me again.

“If we do not find shelter, the storm will strip the flesh from your bones.”

“Gee, thanks. That was so helpful,” I say, rolling my eyes.

His gaze lingers on me, assessing. Then, to my shock, he reaches into his pack and pulls out a cloak. Before I can protest, he swings it around me, clasping it tight. I stiffen.

“I don’t need?—”

“You do,” he says simply. “Do not argue.”

I want to argue. I want to shove it back at him, tell him I can take care of myself. But the wind is already picking up, and sand grit is stinging my skin. The storm is closing in, and survival matters more than pride.

I grit my teeth and pull the cloak tighter. We press on, racing against the oncoming storm. And through it all, is his presence at my side. Watching. Guarding.

Damn him.

2

AVA

The wind howls around us, carrying the first stinging lashes of sand. It’s hard to breathe. The sky darkens as the two suns are swallowed by the roiling storm.

“Faster!” Shana yells, but the words are barely audible over the rising shriek of the wind.

I pull the cloak tighter, hating that I need it, hating even more that it smells like him. Earthy, smoky, and something sharp, something wild. The Zmaj warrior stays at my side, his movements fluid despite the shifting terrain.

The sleds struggle, the humans even more. The Zmaj among us take turns pulling them, but even they are slowing. A gust slams into me. I stagger, nearly losing my footing. A hand grips my arm, steadying me. Clawed fingers, rough but careful. I jerk away instinctively.

“I’ve got it.”

“You do not.”

His eyes gleam through the dust-choked air. Before I can argue, another gust hits, stronger this time. Sand pelts my face and exposed skin. I squint against the grit, barely able to see the silhouettes of the others ahead.

“We won’t make it,” Dan shouts, his voice ragged. “We need to find cover!”

Cover? There’s nothing but endless dunes and scattered rock. The outpost is still too far. Panic knots in my chest. This storm is just starting and it’s going to get worse. A lot worse. It’s going to bury us alive. The Zmaj warrior grabs my wrist.

“Come,” he says, shouting to be heard.

“Let go!”

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