Page 72 of Lorran
She threw the rocks, pelting the beast as quick as she could. It shook its head, as if baffled by the assault. Lorran dug his hands into the fur, trying to hold on, but the wolf-bear shook him free.
He fell, and the wolf-bear clamped its jaw around his arm.
Okay, not the best plan. Desperate, she threw the last stone.
Growling, the beast whipped its head to the side, eying her. Lorran broke free of its hold and leaped onto its back once more.
Now move.
She took off at the sprint, the grass whipping around her. The beast bellowed as it followed, unable to resist a chase.
This was the worst plan she’d ever concocted.
Her foot hit a solid mass. She fell to the ground, catching herself on her hands. Pebbles dug into the flesh of her palms. She rolled onto her butt, scrabbling back as the wolf-bear advanced.
Her hand landed on metal.
The rifle.
She grabbed it and lurched to her feet. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she aimed at the charging wolf-bear. Her hands shook. She didn’t want to fire, lest she hit Lorran. Even at the lowest power setting, shooting Lorran would be bad news.
It obviously had a thick hide. One shot wouldn’t do anything but piss it off.
Wait. Hold.
She practically heard her father whispering, telling her to be patient and wait for the perfect moment.
It roared. Wyn swore the ground shook.
Wait.
Closer now, close enough for hot breath to roll over her.
Lorran plunged the knife into the wolf-bear’s eye. The beast opened its mouth to howl in pain or to take off Lorran’s head. Honestly, the odds were even, going either way.
Wyn pulled the trigger, the barrel of the rifle practically in the wolf-bear’s mouth.
The back of the beast’s head exploded, splattering Lorran with green gore. It lurched wildly to one side, claws catching her in the gut. The force of the hit knocked Wyn on her ass. She scrambled back, desperate to get out of the dying creature’s path.
Lorran leaped free, grabbed her arm, and pulled her away.
The wolf-bear took another shambling step before collapsing.
Unable to get her hands to stop shaking, she tucked them under her arms. Up close, she could now see that the beast’s shoulders stood hip high to her. Hardly the massive monster her panicky mind perceived.
But there was no mistaking those dinner-plate-sized paws. If she hadn’t been wearing the armor, she’d be gutted.
Lorran pulled her into a tight embrace, despite one arm hanging limply at his side.
“My fierce huntress,” he murmured, his face in her hair.
“I told you I’m not helpless,” she said, or tried to say. Enunciation proved difficult with her face smashed against his blood-speckled shirt. She couldn’t push him off as her hands were still tucked under her arms and she was neatly caught in his embrace.
Still, there were worse ways to pass the time.
She could hear his heart thudding in his chest. It synced with hers.
Lorran stepped back to inspect her. “You are injured. It hit you.” He ran his hand over her stomach, then her arms and legs before spinning her around to inspect the rest of her.
