Page 6 of Surrendering Her Heart

“We have to?—”

“No,” he cuts me off before I can finish, shaking his head.

I want to argue. Run after Bren, save him. But the Zmaj is right. Bren isn’t even screaming. He's gone. A weight settles not onto my shoulders, but my spirit. We’re fucked. There is no way we’re going to survive this. I look at the Zmaj, his grim face, his eyes boring into mine.

“Move!” Shana shouts.

I’m frozen in this moment. This fear gripping my heart, keeping me in this place. The Zmaj lowers himself until we’re eye to eye. He places both his hands on my shoulders, moving in so close his forehead touches mine.

“Come,” he says. “I will protect.”

“Not Bren,” I mutter.

“No,” he agrees. “You.”

Anger burns through the ice. I tighten my grip on the handle of my blade until my knuckles hurt. I growl, shaking my head. He’ll protect me, but what about the rest of us?

“All of them.”

His frown deepens, but in his eyes there is something more. Something that I latch onto, not in any physical way, but it’s something much more than the appeal of his body. Something real. His lips smack as they part, loud enough to be heard over the wind.

“I will try,” he agrees. “But now we move.”

I nod sharply and turn to look at the struggling humans. The Zmaj are moving up and down the line, trying to be everywhere so they can protect the straggling line but there aren’t enough of them. A guster darts in, trying to grab its meal, but one of the Zmaj intercepts it, barely. He hits it with his lochaber and the beast disappears into the sand.

Six people are trying to push one of the sleds. They’re almost to the top of the dune but not quite there. Their eyes are wide with terror, mouths hanging open, and yet they struggle to save whatever is on that sled.

“Leave it! Move!” I yell.

Two of the six look up, confusion all over their faces. I run the few feet down the hill, grab a woman by her arms and shake her. I point up the hill as I yell for her to move. She looks at the sled then back to me, her eyes unfocused.

“Come little one,” the Zmaj says, appearing at my side.

He hooks his arm around the woman’s waist, reaches over and does the same to the next closest man, then lifts them both and rushes up the hill.

“That way, leave the sled,” I order.

“But—” one of them protests.

“Go!” I scream so hard it feels like the word tears my throat on its way out.

The remaining four move, but it feels like they’re going in slow motion. I run behind two of them and push. They speed up, a little. Cresting the dune, the Zmaj reappears. When his eyes land on me, my heart speeds up because of the way the corners of his lips twist up.

I’m an idiot. What the hell am I thinking?

He comes to my side and we herd my fellow humans. The wind buffets us side to side. The loose sand makes it hard to stay upright.

The guster keep pace, darting in and out of sight, testing our defenses. One leaps at a struggling human near the back of the group, but a Zmaj intercepts it midair, his claws sinking into its throat. He roars as he throws the creature aside, but more are out there.

A keening screech jerks my attention over my shoulder. A guster darts out of the blasting sands, grabs another person, and disappears. I spin around, taking a step, but the sand slides out from under my feet.

I slam face first. Sand fills my mouth, eyes, clogs my nose. I’m slipping. Flailing my legs and arms I try to get back to my feet but every time I rise the sand moves and I fall again.

I manage to get my head up enough to gasp air before I fall again. It’s happening faster and faster. I try to roll over but all I manage to do is scrabble more loose sand and get more of it into my mouth.

“Gah!” I screech, getting my head up far enough to inhale.

I’m jerked up. So hard it cracks my neck. The Zmaj, damn it, I still don’t even know his name, grabs me by the seat of my pants. He swings me over his shoulder, grabs another person who goes on the opposite shoulder.

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