Leah's Hero - Miranda Martin Page 0,31

shakes his head. “Right.”

I climb to my feet and then offer a hand to Leah. She takes it, and I’m acutely aware of how tiny and delicate her hand is inside of mine.

“I know it is dangerous,” I say. “I do not see a choice. We must get these people to safety.”

I make my word choices carefully, not because I am not concerned for the others, but their safety is a much lower priority than hers. Her presence next to me feels as if she is a warm fire, glowing and pulsing in my awareness. I could bask in her for hours without end.

Thunder rumbles, and the storm increases its fury. Going out is the last thing I want to do, and if I saw any choice at all I’d take it. Leah touches my arm, and I freeze. Slowly I turn until I’m looking at her tiny hand on my bicep. My eyes trace down the long line of her arm, up her shoulder, across her neck. In my imagination, I’m trailing kisses.

“Safer?” she asks.

It’s easy to hear the suppressed fear in her voice. She’s scared, with every right to be. We almost died out there, only to come back here and almost die again. There is no good choice, only less bad ones. She’s looking to me for reassurance.

“Yes,” I say, forcing myself to be certain.

She nods then the corners of her lips twitch until a smile breaks across her face. My breath catches and my hearts gallop, urging action. Embrace her, hold her, protect her forever.

“Urukol,” Angota says, his voice almost a growl. It slices our magic moment which fades so fast I wonder if it existed. “We need to go.”

He looks from me to Leah then back again, with a slight disapproving shake of his head. His eyes linger on my scars. They itch terribly in response, as doubt takes over my thoughts. I jerk forward as breath rushes in, and my hearts relapse to their normal beat.

“Yes,” I agree.

Out of the corner of my vision, I see Leah frown at Angota, her brow furrowing. She looks from him to me, and then her eyes rest on my damaged side. I turn away. I can’t see sympathy in her face. A mate should never have to feel sympathy for her male. What kind of protector needs sympathy?

Clearing my throat, I grab the pack I had before and head towards the door. Leah follows, holding the end of the lead out, which I take and tie around my waist. I pointedly avoid making eye contact, looking past her to watch the others tie themselves into the line.

Leah stands close. The scent of her fills my nostrils, wildflowers and delicate hints of mint. I inhale deeply until I can taste her on my tongue. My eyes drift closed as I commit this smell to my memory. Filing it with every other frozen moment I’ve stashed. Hidden for later, something to assuage the empty ache life will be once she finds a real mate.

Rakstan calls that they are ready, so I turn and make for the door. As I move to open it, Leah touches my arm, stopping me.

“You okay?” she asks. Her Zmaj is broken but understandable.

“Yes,” I say.

The wind hits the door and it blasts open. Rain and debris break through the opening, pelting us. On instinct I whirl around, shielding Leah by putting my back to the door and opening my one wing. Wind and rain continue to blast past but it’s missing her.

The rushing wind eases. I hold Leah by her arms, staring into her beautifully perfect eyes. “Okay?”

She nods. I look back the line to the other two Zmaj. They both indicate that all is fine. I steel my will before turning and leaning into the blasting wind, making my way into the storm.

11

LEAH

The wind tears at us. Ripping past him, hitting me with so much force, every step forward is offset by sliding back half a step. I’m leaning so far forward that if the wind stops, I’ll end up on my face in the mud.

I wrap my arms around my chest, rubbing them for what warmth I can manage. I’m freezing, have been since my swim. My drowning.

He saved me. That alone is enough to endear someone to you, but he saved me and hasn’t made a move. I don’t think I’m misreading him. I think he’s interested, wants me, but he’s doing a damn fine job of not giving off too