Page 16 of Hope Forged
He smirked, humor twinkling his eyes and pursing a soft-looking mouth.
Heat burned across her cheeks under his steady gaze.
“I mean you no harm,” he drawled.
“So you say.” She was aware she was alone. Although, had Padya been here, she doubted he’d fare well against this male. Muscles rippled along his arms when he moved. And the weight of him strained the chagla’s bough, almost to breaking point.
She couldn’t hold him. Not only would the trap fail, but there were hungry creatures out here—worse, an ucdeas or two if they’d made it down from the cliff. She couldn’t be sure they hadn’t. But from this location, she had to worry about the buvarre. As blind as he’d been strolling across the sinking sands, then into her trap, she wouldn’t put it past him to snare himself in the creatures’ webs. He’d be safer with her.
When I might not be safe with him.
She could lock him in the head. He couldn’t get up to mischief in there since the power had been diverted to Oz’s memory banks. Thankfully, the solar shields, which failed to protect them, now helped keep Oz alive.
She gazed at the lake where she’d tossed the stranger’s block-shaped phaser. Regret pinged across her mind. Unfamiliar with the weapon, using it might have gotten her killed.
“What are you thinking?” His eyes warmed, his expression softened, and he shifted, no doubt uncomfortable with one leg under him and the other extended in a high kick.
“To leave you like this…” She grimaced. “Buvarre will eat you, for sure. Seba would think you a nighttime snack.” She pointed her dagger in the direction of her home. “I still don’t trust you.”
Which left guarding him. A night under the stars didn’t sound so bad. Except there’d be no fire, and the hard ground would stiffen her leg, making it pulse with pain. She wouldn’t be able to sleep for fear she’d be eaten. Still, of the choices she had…
“While you deliberate, may I ask how a Durn landed here?”
“May I ask the same?” She arched a brow.
“You saw my kuta sink.” He nudged his chin at the sandpits.
He knew damn well what she was asking. “Why are you here?” she snapped.
His eyes narrowed. “I am beginning not to like you, female.”
“Well, the thought is mutual. I should let Seba have you.” She swiveled on a heel and stomped off, collecting her fish, and discarded boots with the intention of leaving him there.
Although, she kept her attention on him. Despite touching parts of his body, she hadn’t found a dagger. If he had another weapon, he’d use it to free himself. Rather let the fool show her where he kept it.
The net began to sway. She stopped but stomped her feet like she was walking away, all while watching him squirm. He reached for his boot, almost tearing through the net.
“No,” she gasped when a gleam of silver confirmed he had a dagger. She lunged to stop him, but with one slice, he tumbled free, landing on the ground in a cloud of dust.
Her net—now useless—hung deflated.
“Oh, for Elorach’s sake, you’ve destroyed it.” She marched to him even as he stood and straightened his garments. A fine layer of sand coated him despite his efforts. “It took me ages to make it.” She pointed at the sandpits. “Leave before you ruin something else.”
He sheathed his dagger in his boot and smiled at her.
An explosion of warmth hit her, snatching her breath. Who was he, and why did a flash of his white teeth affect her so?
“My name is Illan Tur-Lekbez.” He scanned the area. “I am responding to a beacon.”
Asinkingkutawascause enough to comm the scimitarCeleeri. King Xeus might not take kindly to the loss of the shuttle, but Illan couldn’t worry about that now. The natural clearing next to the lake should have made him hesitate. Never had he factored into his calculations stumbling upon quicksand, zero percent possibility of that happening. From the gurgle of sand as it tried to swallow the kuta to being whipped into the air and trapped within a net, he doubted his instincts had time to warn him.
Thirty-two percent of not being welcomed, well, he’d anticipated that. But this?
As he swung wild, glimpses of a Durn female came into focus. He hadn’t expected to find any sign of life this soon. She’d stood there, unhelpful, stubborn, and yet…
Her garments were pieces stitched together, hugging a body he shouldn’t take note of. Admiration of physical beauty wasn’t the Durn way. And yet, it was unavoidable with how much the cloth didn’t cover. Thick, leather belts hugged her waist, hips, and backside. She was barefoot, her blue feet striking against the pale sand. Long, white braids as thick as his fingers fell down her back.
And she limped. No pain crossed her delicate features, which meant an old injury. Her dagger was small, but even from where he swayed, it was clearly not Maloidian steel. No blaster wasstrapped to her thigh, and no other weapon was sheathed on her person.
