Savage King: New Worlds - Milly Taiden Page 0,10

would get him free. The protective skewers around the mouth with their poison were the issue.

And rightly so since one stuck out of his side, and he was about to die. It was placed at just the right spot where he couldn’t reach it to pull out with his teeth or paws. His vision became blurry, and his paw caught on a root, nearly tripping him. Dragon shit. This was bad. But he’d never regret coming to the rescue of his mate.

Yes, that was what the beautiful woman was—his mate. Took him a bit to figure it out. The sudden intense and wild fantasies playing through his head were a big clue. An animal erection was the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced. He tried to remember what it felt like in two-legged form, but the buried memories were too difficult to bring up.

He smelled the water—he couldn’t see much more than smeared colors. His head was so heavy; hanging down as he panted for air. He was surprised dirt hadn’t piled up on his tongue from dragging it.

His foot caught again, this time sending him face first into the small stones along the side of the creek. A grunt burped out of him when his large mass hit ground. He didn’t feel water flowing around his fur. He hadn’t gone far enough. Now he was going to die unless the Mother sent him a miracle.

It had been a lengthy time coming. He was ashamed he’d been allowed to live so many cold moons, while those he’d killed died so long ago. He wondered how long his solitary existence would continue. When would the Mother find forgiveness for him in her heart? The question was more if.

He didn’t deserve it. What he’d done was beyond absolution. The blue blood on his hands would never go away.

With his head on the pebbles next to the creek, he waited to die. Slowly and painfully. Then his ear to the ground picked up an unsteady thumping as if someone was stepping closer, but very tentatively. A voice floated through his dying haze. A beautiful sound lifting his spirits.

Wren?

Was she here? Why had she come back? His breathing was too shallow to get her smell. His survival instincts were calmly telling him that someone was coming up behind him. Normally in this situation, his body would be tensed, ready to chew off a head or arm. But his tigron knew, as he did, who this female was to him.

She came around and stared at him. He scented her fear, but stronger than that, she emanated concern, care. He remained motionless, not that he had much choice in the matter. She pulled out the thorn. At least the pain between his ribs had stopped with that.

Then he watched as she snatched a leaf from the water and cup it in her hands, letting it fill with water. What was she going to do with that? If she poured it on his fur, it would just roll off. When she approached his face, shock rolled through him. Not even an insect would put itself in such a dangerous position. One swipe of his paw could break her bones.

His mate knelt before him, offering the liquid in her hand. If his maw wasn’t already opened, it would’ve been seeing this. The bravery she showed humbled him. She was willing to risk her life to save a deadly creature.

Well, he’d put a stop to that when they were mated.

Wait. That thought had really passed in his mind as if lounging in the sun. No panic or denial rose in him. Then his mind went blank when he lifted his head to drink. He swallowed as much as he could; not only to flush his system, but to keep her so close to him. He hoped she had arrived soon enough.

His doubt and feelings of worthlessness vanished. After two hundred cold moons, this was the first day he wanted to be alive. And, of course, he was going to die. The gods had to hate him for what he did. To show him the one born for him then not allow him to touch her. He let out a deep sigh.

Her words were so adorable. There was no way he was going to harm this female. Now eating, that was a different idea. Images of her cocoa skin bared to him, his hands touching every part of her. His hands. . .

They were Gnoleon fae hands, not his tigron. Fear