Page 9 of Tharn's Hunt
JACQUI
My palms tingle where I clutch my weapon too tight. I press myself deeper into the shadows of the cave, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Before me, at the base of the rock face, is a hallucination. It has to be.
Because I’m looking at an honest-to-God man.
Anakedman.
I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again like a reboot will somehow help.
He’s tall. Impossibly muscled. With golden-bronze skin that looks so rich, he must be painted.
My dehydrated, half-starved brain can't decide if he’s a very creative hallucination my dying mind conjured to seduce itself, an actual threat who inexplicably moisturizes, or proof I've been alone in this desert exactly three days too long.
Jacqui, you’re losing your marbles. Officially. That tall shadow I saw before I passed out must have been the opening act, because this is the main performance.
At least the predators I ran into had the decency to be horrifying in a traditional way. This? This is worse. This is confusing.
My head pounds, but the raging fire of the fever has lessened. My throat isn't a desert of its own anymore, just raw. And the wound on my leg… it throbs, but it doesn’t scream. It feels… different.
The hallucination crouches, examining something on the ground. My tracks, probably. I hadn’t been careful. But does it matter if this is all in my head?
Jacqui, you fool, hallucinations don’t kick up sand when they walk. They don’t cast shadows. And they definitely don’t tilt their heads like wolves scenting prey.
My breath ceases as his head snaps up.
Golden eyes lock onto mine, piercing through the shadows like he’s found the only source of water in this entire wasteland. The look is so intense, so focused, it steals the air from my lungs.
Oh, fuck.Predators aren't supposed to look at you with that much… hunger. And it doesn't feel like the "I want to eat you" kind.
My heart plummets as he begins to climb, his massive form ascending the rock face with an ease that makes my own desperate scramble feel laughable. I raise my weapon, the pathetic shard of metal trembling in my grip.
He appears in the entrance, his massive form blocking the light. His copper auburn hair casts his face in shadow, but I can see the sharp glint of fangs. The memory of the shadow creatures, of their claws and screeches, slams through me.
Survival instinct overrides everything. I lunge, swinging the warped metal with all the strength my exhausted body can muster.
He doesn’t even flinch.
The weapon connects with his arm—and bounces off like I’ve just hit solid rock.
He moves then, faster than anything his size should be capable of, catching my wrist in a grip that’s firm, almost crushing.
“No!” I thrash. Wildly. Kicking and scratching. I even try biting him. I use every dirty trick I’ve ever learned. But it’s useless. He restrains me with insulting ease, pinning me to the cave floor with my arms above my head, his weight distributed so I can’t move but can still breathe. Pain lances in my wrist.
“Get…OFF me!” I scream, knowing it’s useless but unable to stop fighting. “Let…me…go!”
There’s a grunt in his throat, a wince as he turns his head away from me. His brows furrow as ifI’mthe one causinghimpain. And in that moment of pinned desperation, my frantic eyes catch sight of my own leg.
There’s something stuck to my calf. A poultice of dark, crushed leaves, clinging to my skin right over the gash.
My fevered brain stumbles, short-circuiting.
I didn’t do this.I was delirious. Bleeding out. I don’t know these plants. Someone—or something—tended my wound while I was unconscious.
The thing currently pinning me to the floor… also played nurse?
The thought is so absurd, so impossible, that my struggles cease for a single, stunned second.
