Page 45 of My Tiny Giant

The professor bellowed in pain, arching his back and grabbing his buttocks, his tail lashing wildly.

“Get away from me!” Emma drew her legs to her chest then slammed both feet into the Voranian’s chest.

He staggered back.

Agan quickly let the gun drop to its side. It landed under one of the professor’s hooves.

He tripped, lost his balance, and fell backwards, over the glass railing and into the dark abyss of the night below.

“Oh no!” Shoving down the gauzy layers of her skirts, Emma scrambled to her feet, then rushed to the railing.

The professor’s screams grew fainter on his way down, then stopped completely.

“Shit, I guess he’s as good as dead now,” she said slowly. “How high is this building?”

“No idea. But I’m pretty sure a fall from it is not survivable.” He couldn’t peek over the railing. He didn’t even try to look in the gap under it either, focusing on her instead. “How are you?”

“These freaking skirts!” She beat down the puffy layers of fabric around her legs. “This dress is the worst for hand-to-hand combat.” She sighed. “I’m also going to request more sparring with an opponent who has a tail.”

She obviously didn’t think she did well, whereas his chest swelled with pride for her. He’d never seen a woman in hand-to-hand combat before. He simply had never allowed for that to happen in his presence. Before Emma, he’d fight for a woman, not with her.

Watching her going against a much larger and stronger opponent like the professor filled him with terror that she might get hurt. Once it was over, however, and she was safe, thinking about her in action felt exhilarating and strangely...arousing. Not an appropriate reaction to a mission partner, but it wasn’t the first time his cock throbbed in Emma’s presence.

He could control his desires—he was an adult after all. However, the wide array of emotions he felt around Emma were much more difficult to control or even identify correctly.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

She rolled her shoulders back then stretched her neck. Wincing, she rubbed her side, the spot where the professor kicked her with his hoof.

“I’m fine. Nothing too serious.” She released a long breath, sliding down to the floor, and leaned with her back against the railing. “You?”

He replied with a dismissive wave of a hand.

“You were supposed to wait for me in the ballroom by the entrance,” he reminded her gruffly.

The cacophony of feelings he had for Emma was confusing.

On one hand, deep gratitude overwhelmed him. She’d saved him from possibly spending the rest of his life as the devious professor’s subject of experiments—a fate potentially worse than death.

On the other hand, the anger at her for putting herself in danger for his sake started to grow. The excruciating feeling of his own helplessness in this state also tortured him.

“You went against the plan,” he growled.

“Yeah, well if I didn’t, you would’ve been carried off in the professor’s pocket.”

True, but the things could’ve ended much worse for her too.

“You could have been hurt or...killed. Why did you come here?”

“I came for you. The Governor showed up with his wife, and the professor was nowhere in sight. I suspected something went wrong and came back down this corridor, looking for you. Then I saw, through the glass, the professor chasing something...well, someone out here.”

He preferred for her to stay safe, even at the expense of his own safety. However, were he in her place, he would’ve done the same. He would’ve come looking for her, too.

Emma wasn’t just any woman; she was also his comrade—an entirely new concept for him. He needed to learn to reconcile the two somehow.

“Well, thanks for rescuing me,” he mumbled.

She gave him a long look in reply. A hot rush of ripples ran up his thighs under her gaze. Sweat slicked the fur on his back despite the cold, and something inside his chest ached.