Page 5 of Surrendering Her Heart

“I will not.”

He pulls me forward, grip firm, slightly less than bruising. His wings snap open against the gale, giving me some relief from the worst of it. The others struggle, the sleds half-dragged, half-abandoned.

“Where are we going?” I demand, my voice hoarse from the sand in my throat.

“Trust me,” he says.

Trust me?I snort.I don’t trust anyone.

The wind roars like a living thing, and the world is quickly turning into a shifting, suffocating blur of sand. We don’t have a choice. I have to follow him. Him and his fellow Zmaj are our one hope of survival. My instincts scream to hunker down, to curl into myself and wait it out, but that would be a death sentence. The Zmaj warrior grips my arm, his touch firm but not harsh.

“There’s shelter,” he says, voice raised over the wind. “Caves. North.”

Caves. A chance. Hope.

“Shana!” I shout, barely able to see her shape through the swirling grit. “We have a heading—north! There are caves!”

She hesitates for half a second before nodding sharply, turning to Dan and the others.

“You heard her! Move!” she shouts to be heard over the rising wind.

The group surges forward, fighting against the storm’s relentless fury. The sleds are nearly useless now, their runners sinking too deep into the loose, shifting sand. The Zmaj take the brunt of the burden, dragging supplies with raw strength as the rest of us push ahead.

I stumble, the wind throwing me sideways. The Zmaj warrior catches me before I hit the ground. His grip lingers, steadying.

“This way,” he says, keeping me close as he leads us forward.

The storm deepens. The world shrinks to the few feet in front of me. And then movement. Not ours. Something shifts in the haze. A flicker of movement against the swirling sand, there and gone in an instant. Then another. I grab the Zmaj’s arm, my pulse hammering.

“We’re not alone.”

His head snaps up, eyes narrowing. His nostrils flare, scenting the air. His growl reverberates through my bones.

“They’re hunting us.”

3

AVA

“Guster,” he growls.

I barely suppress a shudder. I know the word. The Zmaj captured some of them and have somehow tamed them to ride, but in the wild…

Guster are carnivorous beasts with razor-sharp claws, powerful legs built for sprinting across the dunes, and thick, scaled hides that make them nearly impervious to blades. Sharp spikes protrude from every which way and they hunt in packs.

“Keep moving!” Shana shouts, her voice edged with fear.

The others press forward, but we’re sitting ducks. As if the sandstorm wasn’t bad enough, and the main body of it isn’t even here yet. I tighten my grip on my knife. It won’t be enough, but it’s all I have.

The wind shifts and the air clears just enough for me to see a hulking shadow lunge to one side. A scream.

I whip towards it and Bren, a wiry man I barely know, is pulled to the ground. The guster’s massive jaws clamp on and drag him, disappearing into the storm.

“No!” I move forward, but the Zmaj grabs my arm and yanks back.

“He is gone,” he says harshly.

The cold finality in his voice makes my stomach turn.

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