Orc’s Forbidden Claim (Red Planet Dragons of Tajss #33)

30. Saylor

30

SAYLOR

“ H alt!”

Wren and I stumble to a stop. We’re leaning on one another, which I know for me is the only reason I’m still upright. That’s not true, I’m moving out of fear. My shins stab with every step and exhaustion is a weighted blanket that covers my entire body.

“We need help,” Khiara growls.

Sek’su is barely conscious. Khira has been all but carrying him for a long time and I can only imagine if I’m tired, how wiped he must be.

“Sek’su?” the same voice that yelled asks and then everything is a blur of motion and action. “What did you do?”

The guard is accusing Khiara of being the one to hurt him. It’s clear in his tone.

“He was?—”

“Drop your weapon,” the guard orders, cutting Khiara off before he can finish the sentence.

Khiara growls then two more Zmaj come into the light of the lantern. One of them grabs Sek’su who is mumbling incoherently and takes off with him. Wren whimpers and takes a step forward then stops, looking at me.

I can barely give her the attention of a glance. All I am is locked onto the confrontation between Khiara and the two looming Zmaj. If not for him we’d all be dead, but these Zmaj don’t see that. All they see is his green skin, his tusks, and his braids. They see that and they judge him as the culprit.

Khiara isn’t going to back down. I see it as clear as if he is shouting it from the rooftops. It’s in the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightens on his sword. He’s going to fight them. In the shape he’s in, he won’t stand a chance. They’re fresh and ready. Spoiling for a fight, to teach him a ‘lesson’ or whatever their justification is going to be. I move past Wren, and she grabs at my arm, but I pull free of her grasp.

“Say—” she says, intent on keeping me from getting involved but I can’t stop myself.

I’ve never been the bold one, that was Wren and Ziva. I have, all my life, been the third wheel. The follower, never the leader. And I’ve always been fine with that. Comfortable being in the lime light but not the center of it.

No more. This will not happen.

I stride forward with a confidence that comes from somewhere so deep I had no idea it was inside of me. It bursts forth, an eruption from my soul. Walking past Khiara, I touch his arm, trailing my fingers over his skin as I come to a stop in front of him. I place myself directly between him and the two Zmaj. If they want to hurt him, they’ll have to get me out of the way first and I am not going to move easily.

“No,” I say.

My voice doesn’t quaver, though my insides are trembling more than enough to make up for its lack in my tone. The two Zmaj look askance at one another. The one on the left shakes his head. They are both Cavern Zmaj. It’s easy to tell because of their darker, thicker claws and there’s an air to the Cavern subset that’s just different from the surface ones.

“No?” the left one asks.

“No,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and shaking my head.

“No, what?” the one on the right asks.

“Wren, step aside, I will—” Khiara says, but I look over my shoulder and locking my eyes onto his cut him off.

Right now, not even he is going to stop me. I am taking control of this situation.

“No,” I repeat. “Am I saying the word wrong? Has my Zmaj failed me? No. This will not happen. Stop. End this. Now. Is that clear enough?”

It feels almost as if I am not myself. I’m me, but not me. I’m outside myself, I see myself, and recognize myself, but this me is confident and has no doubts about her ability to control the situation which is the polar opposite of how I normally feel.

“What is not clear,” the right one says, “is the what. No, what?”

“You are not going to hurt him,” I say, pointing behind myself at Khiara. “You are not going to interrogate him, take him to a cell, or a locked room, or anything else you might be thinking. He is a hero. You will treat him as such.”

“A hero?” the left one asks.

“Yes!” I yell.

It’s startling when my voice echoes off the walls but I get control of myself fast enough that I don’t think they notice it. Hard to seem like a total bad ass bitch when you jump at the sound of your own voice.

The Zmaj on the right doesn’t take a step back, but he does kind of rock, a little at least, onto his heels. It’s not much but still, it fills me with a sense of pride. More than pride. Certainty that I got this.

“We need to consult—” left begins.

“No,” I cut him off.

“It is not optional, there are rules, and you are a guest,” right says.

I switch my glare to him. He meets my gaze for a moment then he too drops his eyes to the floor.

“He needs to see the healer,” I order, then pointing at Wren, “she needs to be taken to her mate’s side. I will go with Khiara.”

“The green-skin—” right says.

“Khiara,” I cut him off and my voice is the closest to a growl that I’ve ever heard pass my lips.

Khiara must be influencing me. He places his hand on the small of my back. It’s a simple gesture but his touch is reassuring and fuels this incredible confidence I am filled with. The Zmaj look at each other, and then the one on the left shrugs.

“Khiara will need to be debriefed,” he says.

I smile because right this moment I know I’ve won.

“Of course,” I say. “But first, the healer. Then a bath. Then he will be available for debriefing.” The two Zmaj nod and the one on the right moves to go past me, but I hold up a hand. “With Rosalind.”

They both frown deeply and the one left shakes his head.

“That is not—” he says.

“I wasn’t asking,” I say. “You can have whoever there, but Rosalind will be there. Period.”

“Of course,” right says. “Come along gree—Khiara.”

Khiara limps along between the two Zmaj. Wren and I follow in their wake. She remains silent as we walk through the compound for a few minutes before speaking.

“Good job, baby girl,” Wren whispers.

My smile is so broad it hurts my cheeks. Pride fills my chest until it feels like I’m going to explode.

I’ve won the battle, but there is still a war looming. Two Zmaj acquiescing isn’t going to change the situation, but it’s a start. And Khiara isn’t being beaten, dragged away, or interrogated.

Yet at least.