Page 110 of Centaur Bolt

“Move your hand.” I squirmed.

“Nope.”

I bounced uncomfortably. If it weren’t for the arm around my waist, I’d be off in an instant. “Move your fucking hand, asshole. And you’ll have both of yours.”

Another duck around tree trunks—and Marcus hit a trail of sorts. More a path, but once his progress straightened along it, the big man let go of the horn.

Immediately, our situation destabilized as he swayed, and I struggled to get my leg in position. But Marcus deeked sideways, and my leg popped over. I was now sitting in the rider’s lap, but he no longer needed to hold me to keep me there.

The powerful arm snaked beneath mine to renew its grip on the horn, and our stability improved dramatically.

A howl rose from behind us, and ice traveled down my spine.

“Might have to fly,” the arm’s owner said. And my mind finally coughed up who he was. Except I couldn’t quite believe it.

It wasn’t armor cladding his arms. It wasscales. Red scales. “Are you a Dragon?” I asked.

“What was your first fucking clue?” he rumbled.

A red Dragon. No way that dream had been real, too.

Marcus tilted his head to shoot a glare over my shoulder as he ran. “No. Fly,” he panted as he leaped over a tree. Muscles jumped in the arm holding the horn, but we leaned into the motion as we accelerated along the trail.

Held between the arms of one, and sitting on another—a warmth grew within me that I couldn’t quite define. Like fleeing danger meant nothing, so long as I was with Marcus.

Not just Marcus. The Dragon counted, too. The three of us,together.

It felt—right.

Another howl. “Is that a Dire?” I asked.

“Tracking,” the Dragon affirmed. “You led them straight to us.” He sounded severely pissed off.

My gut twisted. Cara had always sensed it when I Jumped. What kind of range did the Watchers have? Was Isobel stronger? I hadn’t considered that I might give their location away—because I’d thought I could Jump Marcus right out of here.

But instead, I was so weak I could barely cling to his back. Planning had never been my strong suit.

None of it mattered now. They were using Dires to track us. And from what I’d heard, their noses were legendary.

A huge shadow swooped by overhead, more sensed than seen. That Dragon probably couldn’t detect us in this dense brush, either, but the aerial presence was a huge issue. No escape that way.

I’d spent my lifetime landing on my feet. First rule was always assess the various strengths and weaknesses of any situation. This took on a surreal kind of quality when dealing with shifters, but I took a determined swing at it.

We had wings and hooves. They had wings and paws. And maybe hooves, too, if Isobel had her Bellatis with her. We couldn’t outfly them. With Marcus carrying two of us, we wouldn’t outrun them either. If we didn’t outsmart them, we didn’t have a chance.

We needed to divide, in order to conquer.

“Find us a cliff,” I said.

“What?” spat the Dragon.

“A cliff. Big one. Preferably one where we’ll have cover right up until we go over.”

“I’ll just conjure that up for you,” he said.

Marcus tilted his head to shoot me a look past swirling hair, then his gaze shifted above me. “Cliff,” he insisted.

The Dragon growled. But after a moment, he said, “Swing right. Have no idea whether we’ll make it, I’ve never done this from the fucking ground.”

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