Page 160 of The Satyr's Guilt
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lizette’s shapely ass, whichhis hands had cradled this morning while he pumped into her, swayedback and forth in front of Jarek.Nice. “Not too late,atashe delam.You can return. We will take care of theberserker.”
She cast a smirk over her shoulder as sheslipped on loose pebbles. “Try to keep up, Commander.”
“Ah, a challenge.” Jarek raced ahead,pounding dirt and dodging trees. He laughed.
When was the last time I played,laughed?
“Damn.” Lizette picked up the pace, armschurning and boots digging into rock.
This female made him want to laugh. Had fatebrought them together? Each had survived a past forged in acrucible of fire and cruelty. They found each other. Fate, the whimof the gods, or pure chance? He cared naught. The result mattered.The female was here and his forever.
I belong to her until the Evermore andbeyond.
Jarek paused at the base of a steep, rockycliff, shielding his eyes against the sun while he gazed toward themountaintop. “Clese, you’re certain he is up there?”
“The berserker’s up where it’s rugged. Andrunning scared.” The bear shifter slipped into furry skin, climbingeasily with claws.
The trees grew sparse, the topographybecoming rougher, more vertical. He, Lizette, and the Firebrandsjammed boot toes into crevices and fingers onto small holds.
“A slide.” Jarek warned the others whilesmall rocks tumbled down the mountainside. As he covered his headwith his arms, he snugged his body tight to the wall. When heglanced below, he let out a breath seeing Lizette had done thesame.
“I’m fine,” she yelled.
Jarek started his climb again. Hand, foot,other hand, other foot. When debris clattered below, he dared apeep at his female.
Lizette struggled but continued toward thetop. “I’m okay. Just a little slip.”
“Move to your right a bit.” He waited untilshe maneuvered in that direction, her foot and handholds gainingtraction.
Jarek swung over the outcropping of rocksonto a plateau. He offered an assist.
Lizette accepted his palm, cleared the rise,and took to her feet, brushing dirt off her jeans. “I never thoughtof myself as an outdoor kind of girl. New York and all that. I’mre-defining my image.” She swished her hands together. “Where ishe?”
“There and fleeing. Let’s go.”
They took off at a slow side-by-side jog.“Look ahead. Spear’s stirring up a dust cloud.”
“I see. Hurry.” Lizette kicked it up anotch.
Jarek shook his head. Using his djinn gift,he faded into smoke and caught up. Not fair, but a hell of a loteasier.
****
By the time Lizette arrived, Darius, Kara,and Clese, still in bear fur, had grounded the berserker.
Spear’s braids matted together, dirt crustedhis face, and blood dripped down his shirtless chest onto raggedpants. He had lost one boot, his bare foot mangled and swollen.
Curled into a fetal position, he hookedhands over his head while Kara kicked him. Clese circled, growlingand slashing out with claws.
Here is my nightmare.
Lizette’s chest heaved with rapid breaths asshe stared at the object of her hatred, opening her mouth to speak.No angry words formed.
“Your tormentor is not such a big male now,is he? Sit up, asshole. Look into this honorable female’s eyes.Show at least that much courage.” Kara landed another gut kick.
Spear trembled. When he tilted towardLizette, tears streaked his dirty face like wrinkles.
