I shove it away, watching as it scrambles back, getting its footing once more. It has four legs it stands on and two long arms that end in talons rather than feet. Those talons could be the death of me if I’m not careful. Their venom can be deadly if not treated as soon as possible. We have anti-venom back in town, but that’s a long way from where we are now. I’m mad at myself for not being properly prepared but it’s practically unheard of for a denstree to be this close to the wall. It seems we were unlucky to have interrupted this creature finding a meal.
It hisses again, drawing my focus to the way its back arches and its chest lowers, preparing to leap at me. It looks like we’ve both come to the swamps hoping to hunt, too bad he would rather hunt me than sherdars now that he has me in his sights.
I lower myself as well, widening my stance. I’m prepared for anything now that I’m not surprised, the calm of a fight washing over me. I bare my teeth with a growl worthy of my challenger. I respect this denstree. I would be happy if it turned away and went back to its home. Unfortunately, the denstree disagrees.
I let out a grunt as it leaps towards me again. Just like before, I’m able to shove it away with my spear. This time I don’t wait for him to leap, I use its feet slipping on the slick stump to my advantage, shoving the end of my spear into his shoulder before yanking it back out. It lets out a shrill cry that leaves my ears ringing. Green blood sluggishly pours from the wound. It snaps its maw at my spear as it slowly comes towards me.
I take a step back, cursing myself as I’m the one to slip this time, a twig digging into the sole of my foot that leaves me unbalanced. The denstree takes its shot, jumping onto my chest. My spear goes to its throat, shoving it away as I dodge its snapping jaw. A talon slams down and I turn my head just in time, the talon embedding into the ground beside me instead of my face.
“Fuck,” I groan out, sweat beginning to slide from my temples. If Miles were here, he’d be teasing me for my new favorite word. The thought of him and his smiling face makes me fight just a little bit harder. Adrenaline pulses through me as pain lances through my shoulder. I don’t have time to focus on the pain or what it might mean. I’m not giving up. I can’t. Not when I made Miles a promise. With that promise in mind, I shove as hard as I can, throwing the beast off of me. My shoulder burns but I ignore it, instead using the motion of it falling away from my chest to swing my weapon out. It has a barely there blade on the side that’s sharp enough to cut through bone. It’s also sharp enough to separate the denstree’s head from its body.
“Timalah,” Ghenie calls out, running towards me. I turn to him, giving him a wide smile as I look down at the slain beast. I don’t understand the worry I still feel coming from him in our bond. I blink my eyes quickly to clear my vision which is slowly growing clouded. Confusion swirls around inside my head, nothing is making sense.
Ghenie is suddenly in my space, holding my face in his hands. “What’s going on?” I ask, my words coming out slurred and garbled.
“Timalah. The denstree hit you.”
I look to my right shoulder, finding a talon stuck into my skin, black blood pouring from around the wound. “Oh,” I whisper, not really believing it. “Fuck.”
Now that I know it’s happening, I can suddenly feel the venom flowing through my veins, slowly pulling the life right from me. It hurts. Like my blood is slowly turning to fire, burning me from the inside out. My eyes can barely stay open as Ghenie and Gendry pick me up, carrying me back over the wall. I can’t move to help, I can’t talk, I can’t do anything but hope this isn’t the end of my story.
“It’ll be okay, Timalah. Just stay with us,” Gendry says, his voice panicked. I try. I really, really do. But this time when my eyes close, I find that I can’t open them again.
Chapter Three
Miles
“Stop looking so worried,” Christian murmurs, sipping his second cup of brown tea as we sit on my porch once more. Now that he’s on his second cup he’s looking a lot more human. He even smiled at me once we finished getting everything inside my shop set up and ready.
“I’m not.”
Christian raises his brow, looking smug. “You do. Maybe if you’d just talk to Mr. Tall, Blue, and Handsome you could stop pining on your porch like one of those poor saps waiting at their window for their lover to come home from war.”
I stare at my friend for a long moment before blurting out, “that’s the most I’ve heard you say in one go since getting here.”
Christian rolls his eyes, going back to sipping from his mug. I let out a long sigh before sitting beside him, the two of us pushing off and making my porch bench begin to swing. The motion is nice and helps soothe my nerves. I stare out at the field of tall grass, biting my bottom lip as I think about Timalah, my stomach swooping.
“I’m not that obvious, am I?”
What I get in return is an obnoxious snort. I shove my elbow into his rib in retaliation. “Seems obvious to everyone but him,” Christian murmurs.
The wind howls, a cold freshness washing over us, cooling us off from the hot sun. The sweet scent of flowers hits my nose. I sit back and relax, my chest easing the longer we sit here swinging.
“You sure it’s not hero worship you’re feeling?”
I give a shrug. “It probably started as that,” I say seriously, hating the way my heart is jumping up into my throat. “But now it’s more than that. Ever since that first meeting I’ve felt something. Hero worship, fascination, call it whatever you want. But now I know him. And as I know him more, I like him more. Simple as that.”
Christian nods along as I talk, his usual grumpy demeanor falling away for just a moment. He reaches over and squeezes my bicep, reminding me why I choose this asshole as my best friend. “I think I understand,” he says kindly, his voice going soft. “There’s just that something that draws you in. Makes you feel safe.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” Christian hums, running his fingers through his unruly dark hair.
“Ghenie is--” he starts to say only to stand up, tossing his mug to the side. My heart picks up speed as I stand as well, finding Ghenie and Gendry carrying Timalah towards us.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, opening my front door. “Through here,” I tell them, ushering them into my home. Thankfully, they know the way, carrying Timalah into my apothecary.
As Christian shows them exactly where to lay Timalah down, I hurry to my supplies. “What happened?” I demand, grabbing bandages and supplies for stitching up the wound on his shoulder. I take a deep breath as I go, finding that calm that comes within the storm, the same calm I used to have when I rode in my ambulance back home. Keeping a lid on my emotions is hard when it’s Timalah that’s needing my help but I do my best.
Ghenie looks at me, his usual white skin having a green tint to it. He pulls Timalah’s armor away, showing off a long talon imbedded into his skin, the wound oozing black blood. “He was struck by a denstree.” Ghenie’s white eyes grow moist as he turns to look down at Timalah’s face and my stomach sinks. “A wound like this is most definitely fatal.”