Page 83 of Blood of the Sands

The feline shape skidded to a stop on the far side of me, fixing me with glowing purple eyes, before changing direction with supernatural speed. Before I could draw my saber, a dark mass hurled itself between me and the attacking creature.

Erix charged at the animal, meeting it mid-leap. He slashed his saber where its body soared through the air, longer than any caracal I had ever seen, but it twisted out of the way. A tearing sound ripped the air as its claws raked Erix’s sleeve, but if he had been injured, he paid it no mind.

He was already charging again, trying to take the creature off guard while it was recovering from its last leap. As Erix swung his saber in a brutal downward cut, the creature swiped at him with paws the size of palm leaves, claws digging into where his leather tabards draped over his thighs.

Erix’s strike slashed the creature across its shoulder. It still managed to pull him from his seat with its massive paws as it reared back with a hiss. Erix toppled to the ground, head hitting the rocky earth with a sharp crack that echoed loudly enough, it might have been my own skull taking the blow.

Breaking free of the surprise that had paralyzed me, a ragged cry tore from my throat. I watched the creature open its maw to take a savage bite out of Erix’s shoulder. He lay unmoving on the ground. I flung my hand forward, palm open, power pulsing through me.

A thud and a crack filled the air as the boulder from beside me rammed the creature into the rockface behind it. I panted in the ensuing silence, staring stunned at the rock that was easily the size of me. I had flung it through the air without even a thought. After hours of trying several nights ago, I had been unsuccessful, and here I had done it in a moment of panic.

Erix.

At the thought I slithered down from Daiti’s side with no grace, darting to where Erix lay in a heap on the ground. He hadn’t moved.

Dread filled my belly at the copper tang in the air. Falling to my knees next to him, I gently lifted his head, fingers coming away wet with blood that had soaked the back of his head. I reached for the end of the cloth that wound around his head and shoulders, but my fingers hovered above the fabric for just a moment. I shook myself. Then I set my jaw and began unwinding the length of gray linen. He could cover himself all he wanted, but I doubted he would thank me for leaving him to bleed on ground without aid.

As I peeled back the layers of his hood, I revealed a mess of dark waves, ones I had only seen hints of peaking around the edges of his mask. I had the sudden urge to plunge my fingers into them, but I focused on the task at hand. Turning his head to look at the back, I found his hair matted down with blood. The source seemed to be underneath one of the leather straps holding his mask in place.

My fingers danced over the buckles for a moment of indecision before I started unfastening them. With the straps loosened, the mask fell to the ground with a clang that felt far too heavy for its size. I carded through his hair to find his wound, the strands silky against my fingers even as blood soaked as they were.

I located the cut quickly and found it to be shallow, although it bled profusely as cuts to the scalp often do. It seemed like his hood and mask had cushioned most of the blow, and his skin was merely split. The bump under my finger indicated nothing more sinister than a bruise.

With that, I turned his head back, letting it rest in my lap. Even though it felt like a strange violation, I looked my fill at his face.

Before me were the features I had looked at so often in the statue of Kelvar, a strong brow over high cheekbones. Long lashes rested against cheeks pale enough that it was easy to believe he hadn’t removed his mask in the light of day for years, even though he would probably tan well. Even as the features were the same as the statue’s, I catalogued small differences, from the slight indent in the center of his chin to the hair that waved and curled where Kelvar’s had been long and straight. Unconscious like this, Erix’s features were smooth, and the realization that he appeared to be a man that hadn’t even reached his thirtieth name day ran through me with a jolt.

Without a thought, I reached out, running my fingers in a featherlight touch over his temple and down to his square jaw. I felt, more than heard his breath catch before his eyes fluttered open, fixing me with a bottomless stare.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Viper

My blood rushed under my skin with a frightening intensity, even as my chest refused to expand with my next breath. I was completely at the mercy of the woman who cradled my head in her lap. She rested her fingers on my cheek so lightly, it was as if she thought I might shatter.

She might not be wrong.

The first time we had ever touched, skin to skin, was my hand on her throat. It was the first time in too long that I had felt any sense of stillness within me. I had thought it was some anomaly, the shock of human contact, but now I knew I was wrong. That same stillness ran through me now, although now that I was paying attention, I could feel that quietness undercut with a slight vibration. I was a bowstring pulled taught, ready to leap forward, if only at Keera’s command.

I opened my eyes, gaze finding hers instantly.

Her fingers started to pull away, and without warning, my own hand darted out, grabbing her by the wrist. I had the flickering thought of wishing I wasn’t wearing my gloves. Even through them, I could sense her pulse fluttering rapidly beneath her skin.

She didn’t resist as I pulled her hand to my face once more. This time she flattened her palm, letting the entirety of it rest against my cheek, cupping my face. I breathed in slowly through my nose, holding it before letting it out to brace against the feeling of my soul flying out of my body.

“Why do you wear it?”

The words were quiet in the tenuous silence between us, but they echoed as loud as a gong.

“Because it’s easier to pretend there is nobody underneath the mask.”

The words rang truer than they had any right to.

“I see you,” was Keera’s only response.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

My sanity was slipping out of my grasp like the frayed end of a rope at the continued warmth of her skin on mine. I was admitting things I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t think straight with another human—with Keera—touching me with an intention other than to injure. It needed to stop. I wanted more. So much more.