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My foot caught on something, and I tumbled over the wall.
Chapter11
Jaus
Igrabbed Rhoslyn’s arm and lifted her back up to the balcony. Rather than place her on her feet, I held her, savoring the feel of her sweet, lush form, her warmth, and the way she clung to my shoulders.
She soothed the beast still raging inside me, making it huff and back away.
“I told you to remain inside,” I said.
I was weary from battling. Weary of killing. But what choice did I have? If we didn’t eliminate the threat each time, it would eliminate us.
Her hands fluttered across my chest. “You . . . You’re alive.”
“Did you wish me dead?”
She looked up sharply. “Should I? I wondered about what they’d do with me if you didn’t return.”
“Did you think they’d send you back?”
The way her eyes lit up told me more than I wanted to know. She still wished to return to her village. Why would she not? I’d done nothing to convince her she wanted to be by my side.
Life was such a fragile thing. It could be stolen with one blow of a claw.
“Did it occur to you that they might give you to someone else?” I asked.
She sucked in a breath and pressed her face close to my chest. “At least then, I wouldn’t be with you.”
She sounded much too happy about the notion.
“Women are rare here and humans have proven they can birth our orclings,” I pointed out.
“They can beforcedto birth your orclings, you mean.”
My sigh shot out, and I tightened my jaw. I’d left the fighting, yet I hadn’t. Why should I expect anything else from my pretty mate?
“Where’s Feyla?” She peered around.
“Flown to her roost.”
“You’re not battling any longer.”
“It’s nearly over. See?” I took her over to the wall, and we watched as the last dresalods scurried back into the sea, their spiked claws digging into the soft sand. Their broad, thick shells shifted as they moved, their enormous front claws clicking. One snap could sever an orc’s head or a limb from his body.
Our funeral pyres would blaze tonight. How long before there weren’t enough of us left to fight off the next wave or the legion after that?
“They look ferocious. They’re almost as big as an orc,” she said. “I once read a journal from someone who visited the sea. She called something like this a crab, though in her journal, she indicated crabs were the size of her fist, nothing this large.”
“I’ve never heard the term crab.”
“I’m not sure I believe she ever saw them. She was a fanciful person and often told tales of creatures called starfish and of maidens who could lure sailors to their death in the sea. Before she died, she gave me her journal full of stories. I lost it after my parents died.”
“Did her tales share a way to defeat the dresalods forever?”
“The stories don’t do more than mention them, and I doubt they’re much like the beasts who just attacked the city.”
“Too bad. It would be nice to find a simple solution.”
