My lips part, but nothing comes out.
I poisoned her.
Zaeyr rises and I clench my hands. But before I can taunt him back to me, to end my horrid life, he goes to Milaye’s side. I surge up, shoving him away from her.
“Stay away from my female,” I roar.
He growls but remains where he is. A female rushes into the hut—his mate, I recognize—and goes to his side. I turn back to Milaye and the others around her. I growl again in warning and, to my surprise, one of them growls back.
The rest are undressing Milaye and splashing her with water. “What’s wrong with her?” the one who growled demands. “She’s unresponsive.”
“Tell us! Was she bitten by something? Could it be vine drought?” another asks.
“No, she’s not turning green,” one of them responds.
“Jungle serpent venom?”
“There’s no puncture wounds.”
“There’s bruises.” The female who said it narrows her eyes at me.
I push the women away and grab Milaye’s form to my chest. “It is none of those things,” I hiss.
“Then what is it?”
“Me… It is me.”
19
Fighting Fire
“Milaye, fight it!”
I hear Drazak’s voice.
Fight what?
My skin is tight, as if it’s been stretched like an animal hide across curing poles. But it’s the sensation of being uncomfortably full that stirs my mind. And I am full. It’s this fullness that’s made my skin taut, I’m sure of it.
Every second that passes, my body grows even fuller, my skin tighter. I want to scream, but my mouth won’t open.
Make it stop! Please make it stop!
But I make no noise.
Though something does answer me, I realize it after a moment of anxiety. The lazy, relaxing heat I felt earlier roars to life, spreading through my limbs. The warmth takes away the pressure, easing my flesh to loosen up.
Though I still remain excruciatingly full, and that same heat has only worsened it.
The fire tells me to let it in, to surrender into it, to let it consume me. To let it keep filling me and filling me until I burst. I want to do as it asks… but something in me fights it. Fear. I think I’m afraid.
I don’t want to burst open. There will be nothing left of me if I do. I have a mate to live for, a baby to live for… I can’t burst. I can’t.
Someone takes my hand and raises it to their mouth.
Drazak.My heart thrums.He’s my fire. It’s because of him that I’m feeling better.
I fall back under and sweet, restful oblivion takes me again.
