Page 229 of Monsters in Love

My heart swells with gratitude that they have found me, but I am far too late. Just when I feel as though we’ve been saved, I see them: three more Sagath warriors behind my hunters, all poised and ready for attack.

“Behind you!” I hold Echo tighter as I halt in the air.

Our magick user turns; the flames explode, and before I have a chance to do anything but watch, pain lances through my body. My shoulder throbs, but I dare not look at the wound. I know what I might see when I do.

“Oh my god!” Echo gasps, grabbing on to my chest, but I cannot stop. Her safety needs to come first.

She cannot be left alone in the trees because she cannot fly away. The only option for her is the ground, so I dive, ignoring the scent of my blood and the sting of my body. I can hear Sagath following behind, but once I have her on the ground, she might be able to hide.

My legs touch down on the plush moss. “Otoki,find a place to hide. Do not touch theAmae’sil; they will consume you. I will return for you.”

“Are you kidding me?! You can’t just leave me!” She hesitates to let me free, but I shove her from my arms.

“Do not argue with me.” I pin her with a stern look. “I will find you. Now run!”

Then I swivel around, ignoring the sounds of her feet behind me as she retreats.

I will come back for her if I die trying.

Irun like my life depends on it, forcing myself not to go too far into the horrible labyrinth of this wood. I can hear the sounds of their fighting, but I’m inept to do anything about it other than hide like a coward.

It’s times like this I wish I had a gun with me. I worked in a lab studying plant life for terraforming this planet—I wasn’t in the military in that capacity—so it wasn’t standard practice for me to have a weapon.

There’s a dead tree similar to the one the cabin was created from, and while Xakiras told me not to touch the Ama-whosits, which I guess meant the trees, I’m going to assume the dead ones will be safe.

I crawl inside of it, my skirts growing moist from the detritus on the ground, but I hardly care. I’m hoping those creatures won't find me. There was hardly time to get a significant look at them because Xakiras held me to his chest, but they remind me of horned owls. We’ve fought against them several times now, but each time, they move far too quickly to get a good look.

This time I saw large swirling horns on top of their heads and pale skin with long, white feathered wings. They were definitely more bird-like compared to Xakiras’s insect appearance.

My heart rackets in my ears as the brutality continues to ricochet through the forest. The screaming is blood-curdling, and every time I think it’s Xakiras, holding my breath for his voice. When it never comes, I finally breathe until the next set of screams begins.

I hear twigs breaking behind me. Taking my legs to my chest, I squeeze myself tighter into the hollow of the tree to become smaller. A mantra of “please don’t find me, please…” roars in my head.

There’s a sound of sniffing and a deep hum of a male voice. My armpits start to sweat, and I hold my breath just in case the creature can hear my breathing.

Something hits the side of the tree—thwack, thwack—before I hear them say, “Come out, little morsel…”

I hold back my whimper as fear latches onto my body, and I swallow down the desire to run. When bird-like feet come into view, I decide I have to fight. The creature is covered in leather armor with a spear in one hand. It bends down, and when I see its face, I’m shocked to find deep, curious eyes, a blunt nose and sharp teeth.

I gasp, flattening myself to the back of the tree, but it gives me a wide smile. “Hiding will do you no good.”

A hand reaches out, grabbing at me, and I bat it away. “Go fuck yourself.”

The creature’s dark chuckle makes my blood run cold. A hand yanks at my arm, pulling me forward. I dig my thighs into the moss to keep myself from tumbling. The grip is crushing, and I scream, trying to wriggle free.

“Do not fight me,” it says, giving one final jerk to my arm until I tumble out of the hole.

I scream and thrash around, but the owl-man grabs hold of my hair, yanking me upward. There’s no malice in his eyes, but what I assume is ambivalence about what to do with me.

Kicking out my legs, I try to get one shot in, but his grip on me is too tight. “Xakiras!” I scream his name, not knowing if he’ll ever hear me or not. But there’s a glimmer of hope that he’ll crash through the sky to my rescue.

The owl-man wrenches me upward, wrapping his arm around my waist as he grins, showing sharp rows of serrated teeth. “Little prey, silence yourself; there is no one coming.”

“Help!”

A hand reaches out, smacking me across the face. My neck whips sideways with a crack from the force of his slap.

“Silence!”

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