Page 45 of Unbetrothed

The blade flew past me, and a black-furred beast smacked the blade, sending it soaring until it collided against the smooth bark of a tree and dropped.

Milo slipped out another dagger from his boot.

The beast let out a throaty roar.

Milo stabbed its shoulder. The beast shrieked in agony but clawed at him with the opposite paw. A red gash opened on the beast’s fur. Milo grunted, parried, lunged, but the beast continued to press forward.

Should I run? But Milo. Could I leave him behind? I dove for the dagger Milo had thrown and grasped the worn leather against my achy palm. I popped up. Feet apart. Ready to throw.

The beast caught sight of me. It pivoted in my direction and launched, claws exposed.

No time to think.

I slashed the blade in front of me, awaiting the impact.

Milo slammed into the cat’s side and cut into its neck. Blood gushed onto my tunic. The body thudded to the ground.

My grip remained firm around the hilt of the dagger as I watched the black fur over the creature’s ribs still. A metallic odor filled my nostrils, sickening in my empty stomach. My heartbeat pounded in my temples.

Bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum.

Milo took a long, slow breath and squared his shoulders. He looked at me with a hard glare. “Don’t,” he breathed. “Run off. Again.” He reached for my sleeve but stopped before touching it. For a second, I thought there was something more he wanted to say. Instead, he tipped his head to the side and signaled for me to follow him. I dared not unlock my fingers from the handle of the dagger. Who knew what other creatures lurked in the shadows?

I stayed close at Milo’s heels, adrenaline shaking through my body. I ducked under low branches and watched for roots springing high out of the ground. It surprised me how long it took to get back.

Milo slowed his gait upon reaching the pebbly shore. “Back off from my friend.” His harsh words woke me from my daze. He gave one pointed look and stalked ahead in the direction of our campsite.

“Excuse me?” I jogged to make it to his side. “Were you speaking to me?”

“Yes.” He glared in my direction. “You are trouble.”

“Well, you all didn’t need to come with us. I tried to part ways.”

“Try harder.” An intensity smoldered in his dark eyes.

No one had ever spoken so harshly or with such force to me in my life. “Why?” I stopped walking. “Explain. What trouble?”

He whipped around. His face contorted into a grimace. “Zichri will not lie if you press for answers. Ask him.”

I lifted my chin in return.

He strode away. His figure grew smaller as he turned a bend. Was he truly going to leave?

Cold pins prickled along my skin. I said to myself that Laude remained my sole reason to head back to camp. That was not true. I desired to see Zichri again, to hold his hand just like the last two nights. He provided me the encouragement I’d not felt in years.

I recited words to myself, trying to be convincing:Zichri’s just a pawn … a delightfully handsome one. He means nothing, just like all the other Himzos.

Milo was right about me needing to ask more questions. Crunching noise came from behind me, and I whipped around, dagger at the ready.

“Whoa! There you are.” Zichri’s hand shot out and relaxed as I lowered the blade. “What happened to you?”

A warmth spread through my muscles, loosening my limbs. “I had a close encounter. I—I wanted to see if I could find the ruins myself. Here, take this.” The lie slipped off my tongue before I had a chance to think it through. I bit my lip and held out the dagger.

“Milo’s. Hmm. You should keep it.”

“I don’t have a sheathe. What if I hurt myself?”

“If you insist. We’ll find you a sheath back at camp.” He brought my hand up to his plump lips and gently kissed my knuckles. His smile dimpled his cheeks. “Next time, could you at least give us a chance to dissuade you from running off by yourself?”

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