Page 8 of Beast in the Badlands
“What’s your plan then?” he asks quietly.
“To survive.” My grip tightens around my weapon. “And maybe help others do the same.”
I can feel his gaze on me, an intense weight that presses against my skin. It doesn’t just follow; it tracks, like a predator assessing whether I’m prey or something worth the hunt. I busy myself, adjusting the medical supplies scattered across the room, trying to ignore the heat of his stare.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I ask, finally breaking the silence.
“Like what?” His voice is low, gravelly, yet there’s a hint of amusement dancing beneath the surface.
I shoot him a pointed look. “Like you’re trying to decide whether to eat me or kill me.”
He chuckles softly, but there’s no warmth in it. “Maybe both.”
I roll my eyes and step away from him to check the perimeter sensor. The soft hum of the machinery contrasts with the tension building in the room. My instincts scream at me to keep moving, stay alert. The last thing I need is a Reaper deciding to make a meal out of me.
The sensor emits a sharp ping, a warning that reverberates through the tense atmosphere, alerting me to movement outside. It could be scavengers, a ragged band of desperate souls combing through the debris for anything remotely useful, or perhaps another group of wandering refugees, driven by hunger and need as they hunt for scraps in this desolate wasteland.
I instinctively pivot towards the broken window, the jagged shards of glass framing my view like a fractured picture of the world outside. My eyes narrow as I scan the horizon, searching for any sign of life amidst the swirling dust and debris.
For a fleeting moment, I catch sight of shadows flickering just at the edge of my vision, darting in and out of the dim light cast by the dying sun. They dance like phantoms in the twilight, but before I can focus, they swiftly fade into nothingness, swallowed by the barren landscape. The pit in my stomach tightens—I can't afford to let my guard down now.
When I return, Renn is attempting to rise from the table, determination etched into every line of his face. He grunts and pushes himself upright, but his legs buckle beneath him. He crashes down with a thud that sends ripples through my gut.
“Damn it,” I grumble as he sprawls on the floor.
“Help me,” he growls between clenched teeth.
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. “You brought this on yourself.”
“I can’t stay here like this.” His voice holds a sharp edge now, laced with frustration.
“Exactly! You can’t move without tearing those bandages open again!” My tone rises as I step closer, planting myself firmly in front of him. “You think you’re some kind of tough guy? You’re just another wounded animal right now.”
He scowls up at me; it’s an expression that could scare lesser men off their feet. But I hold my ground.
“You’re not the first monster I’ve dragged out of the dirt,” I snap back, venom in my words. “And you won’t be the last.”
Renn growls something low and dangerous—an instinctual response that makes my heart race and pulse quicken. The tension hangs thick between us like smoke in a burning room.
“Do you even know what you're dealing with?” he says slowly, each word dripping with an intensity that sets my teeth on edge.
“I know more than you think.” My voice comes out steady despite the surge of adrenaline flooding through me.
He watches me carefully as if weighing my resolve against his own strength—the feral nature still bubbling just beneath his skin despite being so vulnerable right now.
After several heartbeats of silence pass between us, I break it by checking his vitals one last time. As I press the scanner against his chest, something hums between us—a resonance that makes every hair on my body stand on end.
Renn stiffens slightly under the touch as if feeling it too—the pull that ignites something deep inside both our chests like an electric current coursing through our veins. It jolts through me before I jerk my hand away as if burned.
What the hell is wrong with this guy?
CHAPTER 7
RENN
Iblink against the dim light, trying to clear the fog in my head. The bond hums beneath my skin, a raw sensation that sends jolts through my body. Jalshagar isn’t supposed to feel like this—fast, sharp, hungry. It’s an intensity that makes me question if it’s real or just a product of trauma.
Every time Emry moves past me, it ignites something primal deep within. My vision sharpens, muscles twitch with a life of their own, and heat floods through my veins. I can't explain it. It feels as if she’s pulling on threads woven into my very being. Each flicker of her shadow across the room sends another pulse racing through me, a desperate urge to claim or protect.
