“No!” I'm on my feet behind the boulder, screaming. My nails bite into my palms. Somehow, Hunter emerges, leaping out of the thing’s mouth with a white fang in his fist. Venom rains down in a red curtain. Hunter ducks and weaves, dancing out of the way.
He’s still holding the fang, a bone-white, massive needle that looks like the one mounted in the throne room. What did Sian call that creature? A Slythin? If this is a Slythin, then Hunter’s beaten one before. This thing's fang isn’t as big as the one in the throne room. It's smaller. Maybe it’s a baby? Isn't a baby viper’s poison more deadly than an adult’s? Or is that a myth?
Hunter is running circles around the Slythin, but it twists and turns easily on its sliding coils. Its tail swishes over what looks like a puddle of acid, and the waxy scales smoke where the poison touches them, but the thing doesn’t seem to care.
Hunter’s running straight for a puddle of sizzling acid.
“Look out,” I scream. Vines snap down from a nearby tree and Hunter grabs hold of them, letting them lift him as he swings above the puddles, Tarzan style.
I feel like an idiot, standing here, wringing my hands. What can I do? I don’t remember my resume, but I’m pretty sure big-ass alien snakes aren’t my forte. I'm completely worthless in this fight.
Hunter has drawn the creature away from the pools of acid. Now he's hanging on the snake’s back, inching up the scales as the snake rears back and forth, plunging its head up and down while its tail undulates with breathtaking speed, trying to shake him off. Flecks of white are flaking off the gray scales, almost as if the snake is molting, or if it's sick or something. The rotting smell intensifies. I gag.
The snake whips its head around and tosses Hunter into the trees. The vines fly out to catch him, but miss.
The snake snaps around to face me.
Fuck!
I lift my form-fitting tunic and duck into the thicket. Thorns tear at my skin, but maybe they’ll slow the snake down. Or not, because its scales seem impenetrable.
I flail and skid on the leaves, pounding through the forest, twisting and turning, with branches whipping my face. I haven't run this fast since Hunter caught me. Maybe this is a sign I should take up marathoning.
The snake smashes through the thicket, crushing bushes under its scaly bulk. It rears up over me, pink maw open. A roar crescendos, shaking the trees. Hunter comes flying out of the forest, sailing in on a vine. The vine whips in an arc, sending him hurtling towards the snake’s head. Hunter slams into the beast’s head, clutching the fang like a spear. He drives it into the snake’s eye.
The snake goes nuts, writhing in what I hope are death throes. The scaly coils uproot bushes, cracking trunks and ripping saplings out at the root. I throw myself behind a log, my arms over my head.
The forest falls silent.
My legs are too wobbly to move. I peek over the log. Hunter is standing over the felled snake. The fang is still sticking out of its right eye. Its remaining fang oozes venom that hisses when it splatters on the grass. The creature’s coils stop twitching, and it lies still in the wreckage of the forest. The rotting smell dies away.
Hunter paces around the snake, running his hands over its still body. The grayish white film covering the scales sloughs off under his palm. The papery external shell falls away, revealing the brilliant red scales underneath.
Carefully, Hunter kneels at the creature’s wedge-shaped head, avoiding the pooling acid. A vine creeps from a nearby tree. A wide leaf unfurls from its tip. Hunter snaps the leaf off carefully, and uses it to cover the snake’s left eye. He bows his head.
Something twists in my heart. Hunter’s gentle movements remind me of when he saved the baby creature I thought was attacking me. He treats the creatures of the forest with respect. Even the ones who try to kill us.
“Hunter.” I hate how my voice is quavery, but my insides are still shaking. I need to touch him, to reassure myself we’ve both survived.
He rises, and rushes over. His hands cup my head as he looks me over.
“Hey,” I whisper. My lower lip wobbles.
He scoops me up and I curl into him. His chest rumbles in a purr as he plunges into the forest, leaving the scene of destruction behind. I press my face into the crook of his neck and inhale his woodsy scent. I rub a cheek over his shimmery tattooed skin like I’m trying to bathe in him.
Hunter carries me to a fern grove. The giant fronds part as he passes. The air here is rich with loam and a piney, rosemary-like herbal scent.
“Should we get back to the palace?” I don’t want any more snakes to burst out of the trees.
Hunter grunts, and I hear a whole paragraph of explanation in the guttural sound. The forest is quiet, calm. The air, warm and clean. No more of the rotting scent that preceded the Slythin.
Here, in the woods, Hunter is in his element. He prefers the forest to the palace. I’m not sure I don’t, either.
He lays me down on a soft pile of leaves.
“It’s okay,” I gasp, grabbing his large hands as they roam over me. I need his skin on mine. “I’m not hurt. It didn’t hurt me.”
Hunter brushes a heavy hand over my head, easing me back.
