Page 54 of Wild Bond

“Probably the ones who shot Valla down,” I guessed. We had probably only had the tiny reprieve from them because it had taken them some time to find and make their way to us.

We had only moments until they reached us.

Pulling my daggers from their sheaths as Zade did the same with his sword, I turned to Skye. “Go and help Rake and Naasir,” I ordered.

I felt the stubborn refusal in the bond before she shook her head. The gesture was so human it threw me for a second. I shook it off. “Go! Now! We can handle these guys, but they need your help.”

Skye turned towards the approaching men, extended her neck, opened her mouth and released a pillar of flame so hot that my skin tightened anywhere it was exposed to the air. Several of the attackers dove out of the way but the one who was closest went up in towering flames. A few others swatted at their singed clothing. Skye gave me a self-satisfied huff, then launched into the air.

I didn’t watch her go since three of the men had finally reached us. Zade dispatched one of them with a swift strike from his sword across the man’s throat, so fast that I barely saw it happen. As he turned to engage the second, I was left with the third.

He came at me with a sword. I deflected his swipe with one of my daggers, then swung around with the other. He leapt back, and my blade just missed his mid-section. He swung down with his sword again, and I again deflected the blow, but this time I pressed my advance and leapt forward. As I rammed my knee into his gut, he bent forward reflexively, which I had been counting on, and brought my other knee up into his face. He cried out in pain and toppled backward, moaning as he hit the ground and dropped his sword.

Before I could decide what to do with him, another attacker engaged me. He was a big man, nearly twice my size. This one was more experienced, and it was all I could do to keep his sword from landing a blow. I blocked and deflected strike after strike. I watched him carefully but couldn’t find a way past his defenses. I crossed my daggers in front of me to halt a particularly vicious hit from his weapon and saw the first man had recovered and was approaching from the side. He was only a few feet away and pulled his sword back as if to skewer me.

Instinct kicked in, and taking advantage of some of that dragon rider speed and strength, I shoved the bigger man back with a grunt of effort, spun, and knocked the first man’s sword aside before shoving my blade into his chest.

His eyes widened in shock, and for the first time I registered the copper skin and midnight hair. This man was Zehvitian.Why were Zehvitians attacking us?Our countries were supposed to be at peace. And if they were, why would Zehvi send humans to attack dragon riders? Why not send riders of their own?

All these thoughts fell through my mind in an instant, but all were halted as the man slipped from my blade and landed hard on the ground. I watched the light leave his eyes as the brown depths turned dull and vacant.

Suddenly, all went quiet in my head. All went quiet around me too, as if I were temporarily deaf.

I had just killed a man.

I had seen people die before. of course, even had people killed in front of me. But I had never taken a life myself.

Not until now.

So many emotions swirled inside me, mixed with the adrenaline from the fight. I stared at the now dead man, and couldn’t make sense of them all.

Then my legs were swept out from under me. My moment of distraction had allowed my other attacker time to recover, and it had just cost me.

I landed on my back on the forest floor, and for a suspended moment I caught a glimpse of Naasir in the sky overhead burning a griffin as it soared above him. The red-orange flames created a beautiful arch.

Then my big attacker’s sour, angry face came back into focus. He towered over me; the tip of his sword held only a few inches from my throat. “You little bitch!” he spat as he kicked one of the daggers from my hand with his booted foot and stepped on my wrist with the other. The pain was acute; it felt like he was crushing the delicate bones under his weight. “You’re gonna pay for that.” He jerked his head toward his dead comrade that lay a few feet away.

I was vaguely aware of Zade fighting with several more men off to my right, but he was too far away to render any aid, and Valla too injured.

I had one hand free but no idea where my dropped dagger had landed. I peered around frantically looking for any other possible weapons.

“No!” another of the attackers suddenly yelled to the man standing over me. “Remember, she’s not to be harmed!” That was definitely a Zehvitian accent. But it was his words that caught my attention the most. Why wouldn’t they want to harm me?

The man over me halted, no doubt trying to decide whether it would be worth killing me despite whatever orders he had been given. That second of hesitation was all the time I needed. I reared back from his sword and kicked out at the side of his knee with all my strength. Something cracked, and he cried out as he fell to his other knee. He cursed and lifted his sword. I guess the desire to kill me won. But I had already reached to the side and grasped a large rock I had noticed earlier. Without hesitation, I swung it around as I sat up and hit him as hard as I could in the temple. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he crumpled forward, landing partially on top of me.

I shoved him aside and scrambled to my feet just as the man who had spoken approached me. Dropping the rock, I picked up the unconscious—or possibly dead—man’s sword, still holding my last dagger in my other hand.

I still wasn’t as comfortable with a sword as I was with my knives, but my lessons with Dembe had me feeling somewhat confident with the larger weapon.

“We’re not here to kill you, girl. Just need to take you with us,” the Zehvitian said conversationally, as if we were discussing what we’d had for breakfast.

“Well in that case,” I replied, lacing my voice with false enthusiasm.

The man’s response was drowned out by a piercing shriek from overhead. My attention was drawn to a flash of movement in the air behind him.

I inhaled sharply just as a griffin swooped down and snatched up the man, lifting him a few dozen feet into the air with a beat of its mighty feathered wings. The creature, which was both beautiful and terrifying this close up, let out an ear-shattering cry and hovered there for a suspended moment. Then the griffin closed its beak over the screaming man’s head, gripped him in its long deadly talons and tore the man in two.

I blinked in shock and felt both terror and disgust as I stared at the griffin and tried not to look at the . . . parts . . . it now held.

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