Karma, it seems, has a real twisted sense of humor.
Not wanting to witness the moment I split against the rocks or feed the flare of panic writhing beneath my ribs, I squeeze my eyes shut—
I’m snatched, breath punched from my lungs as I’m crushed against an icy chest for a few hurried beats, then tossed. I have a split moment to register the ferocious pound of Líri’s wings before I collide with the snow, tumbling over and over.
I finally come to a halt—face down, arms and legs splayed. My body one giant ache, head spinning like the world just got rolled through the sky. Something that would feel less shocking than this strange reality where Líri just saved my life. Or maybe she just likes playing with her food?
Seems more likely.
I groan and push to my knees, clamber to my feet, batting the snow from my face when a throaty rumble rattles me to the core. Too deep and graveled to be Líri.
More like—
I glance left, seeing Líri perched in the snow, knee-deep, hackles up. Her wings are poised to clap the air, teeth bared, tail arched as if about to whip around and snap a spine.Mine, I’d assume … except she’s not looking at me.
Slowly, I turn my head toward the origin of the rumbly sound.
My heart stills as I take in the largest Moltenmaw I’ve ever seen—deep blue and shimmering in a spear of golden sunlight. Male, based on his sheer size and broad, stubby beak.
He’s hunched over something fluffy and dead, a large gash in its thick neck that’s gushing blood into the snow. But the Moltenmaw’s not looking at his fresh meal. He’s looking atmelike I’ve just rolled in here with the intention to steal it.
“Give me a Creators-damn break,” I mutter, dropping to my knees. Adopting a submissive stance to show I have zero interest in claiming his kill.
Zero.
A deeper rumble boils in the beast’s throat as he puffs his crest feathers, wings high. His beady eyes bounce between myself and Líri at my back before he prowls forward. Two thunderous steps that rattle the ground.
Sensing movement behind me, I turn my head the slightest amount, seeing Líri burst into action. Galloping toward me, snow exploding with each elegant pounce. She’s probably about to snatch me up before the Moltenmaw has a chance to add me to his own banquet, but something …withinplies me with the urge to stay still and silent.
Totrust.
In one smooth motion, Líri curls around me and sweeps her tail across my chest like a protective shield, releasing a low growl that vibrates through my bones.
The Moltenmaw continues to prowl forward—almost half the size of Rygun and absolutely big enough to overpower Líri. He opens his maw, sabers gleaming, red eyes narrowed.
Líri coils tighter, drops her left shoulder, and pushes against me. Like she’s got an itch.
Terrible timing.
My suspicions are somewhat confirmed when she does it again, and again. I’m about to reach up and scratch her hide when the Moltenmaw growls—thick and robust.
A shiver scuttles through him, feathers lifting down his spine, tail, all the way to the poisonous prong now poking free of the tuft.
My breath stills.
A mature Moonplume might survive being stabbed by …that.Their hides are thicker. Bodies larger. Líri wouldn’t. She’d be his main food source for the next few daes, and I’d be a crunchy garnish.
I don’t like hurting creatures, but desperate times and all that.
I open my mouth to call on Clode to pull the air from his lungs—just enough to scare him away—when the Moltenmaw punches his head forward and snaps at us.
Tooclose.
Líri snarls, then whips her head around and growls at me, blasting my face with her icy breath.
I realize I’m missing something. Regard her posture, her left wing pushed back to make way for me to—
Understanding hits like a smack to the heart.
