My mouth goes dry.
I shake my head.
“I…I…” Zyntarr looks so utterly devastated. But I have to keep talking. The other male needs to get closer or I won’t be able to do anything. “I didn’t think it was right… what he did to you that day…”
The male raises one brow and steps closer.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Zyntarr struggling and straining against his bound hands. If he keeps on, maybe he can get loose.
“I think…” I start, desperately trying to keep the male’s attention on me even as my tongue feels thick in my mouth like it’s already protesting the taste of the words about to come out of it. “I think that maybe you and I might be…”
The male takes another step. “Might be what?”
Now.
I try to be quick. I really do.
Aim for the shoulder or arm.Slow him. Don’t kill him.
The Trixikka intercepts me on the downward thrust before I have time to blink. His strong hand snaps around my wrist, the blade inches from his star-speckled skin.
He blinks at the knife in my hand, and then at me. Distantly, I think I hear Zyn call my name. The male chuckles. “You are not as boring as I once thought, it seems,” he says, pushing my hand away but letting me keep the blade. “Come, female,” he says, grinning, “try again, perhaps besting you will bring out my heart-stars.”
And then it all happens so damn quickly.
I drop the knife, faintly registering that the sharp tip of it embeds into the ground with a quiet‘thunk’. The male’s eyes instantly go to the discarded weapon, but I pull something else from my back pocket.
Zyntarr’s spice pouch is already loose from wear. I reach in with my whole hand, grabbing a fistful. The plume of spices burst in a cloud of deep, burnt orange.
The male wasn’t ready for it. He inhales. The scent of the spice blend is everywhere.
“You-” he coughs and splutters, “What-… I am going to-” he wheezes, stumbling in front of me, “-fucking k-”
The male’s hands are still rubbing furiously at his eyes when he goes down, suddenly and violently - having been rammed into by something large and feathered.
“Zyn!”
My body moves as if to stop the fight. But I freeze when faced with the chaos of growling muscles and feathers.
A guttural grunt and a hiss of pain tells me that someone has just been badly hurt.
“You dare fucking touch my Bea… I will send you to your ancestors.”
The words snarled in Zyntarr’s voice and somehow…‘not’Zyntarr’s voice all at once. It was as though he’d become possessed.
The fight is a blur before me. Tails whipping, wings flapping, bodies thudding into the ground. Loose black feathers flutter down all around as both Trixikka fight to be the one on top.
When the feral battle of limbs and wings settles, it’s my Zyntarr that’s pinning the male to the ground by his throat. “And when you meet with the Goddesses-” Zyn grinds out between panted breaths, his grip on the other male’s neck tightening as he struggles beneath him, “-tell them that I am taking Bea as my own, whether they give her to me or not.”
The male’s face has gone dangerously red and blotchy.
And then he falls limp.
“Zyntarr!”
Chapter 29 - Zyntarr
I hear her voice. Her voice calling my name. But she sounds as though she is deep within the Mother Caves and I am standing at the mouth, straining my ear for the echoes of her voice.
