22. Aryn #2
I slowly lower my blade, though I don’t sheath it. “Cato—”
“No. Don’t even start with the smooth talking.
” He takes a heavy step forward, boots sinking deep into the powder.
“You waited until everyone was busy, then came out here alone. Imagine my fucking surprise when I thought you were in bed, resting, and instead I caught you sneaking out the back. You’re not as stealthy as you think. ”
“I wasn’t sneaking—”
“Yeah, you fucking were. You’re pulling this lone wolf bullshit while you’re injured.”
“I’m mostly healed,” I say evenly, “and I won’t sit around and do nothing.”
Cato lets out a harsh breath that clouds the air between us.
“Mostly healed isn’t fully healed. And even if you were, you don’t just go stalking predators by yourself in unfamiliar woods.
” He flings his hand at the tracks near my feet.
“Look at the number of prints. I don’t have any clue what they are, but I know enough to recognize it’s more than one person should take on alone. ”
“I wasn’t planning to attack yet,” I argue. “I was just going to scout the stream and see how bad the nest is.”
“Yeah, sure. Scout. Alone. With a single blade and no backup.” He takes another step closer, then lets out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “You know, for someone so smart, you can be really godsdamn stupid sometimes.”
My ears pull back defensively as my tail flicks behind me. “I’m trying to help.”
“And if there’s a whole herd of whatever these things are?” Cato demands, now close enough that I can see the flush on his freckled cheeks. “What then? You were just going to take them on by yourself?”
I open my mouth, but he keeps going, frustration bleeding heavily into his words.
“You accuse me of being reckless, but when I thought there was a problem, I came to you. I didn’t run off alone. You don’t get to do that shit anymore. Not while I’m around.”
The raw edge in his voice makes something twist in my chest. I look away, staring at the webbed tracks in the snow instead of the disappointment on his face. “I didn’t think you’d care this much.”
“Yeah. That’s becoming a real fucking problem, isn’t it?” He waits until I meet his eyes again. “You might be alright with leaving people behind, but I’m not. That’s not who I am.”
The words sting more than they should, and their truth is hard to swallow. “I wasn’t leaving you—”
“Weren’t you?”
The air between us is so thick I can barely breathe through it, and Cato’s glare is unrelenting. I try to process his concern and blatant protectiveness, try to understand why he cares, but I don’t know what to do with any of it.
Eventually, he sighs. “What are we up against?”
I watch his face, but he only lifts a brow impatiently. “Draxyss,” I answer reluctantly as I gesture at the tracks. “They’re basically large reptiles.”
“Like the ones we saw in that abandoned village?”
“Not quite. These are a lot meaner.”
He crouches to examine the prints. “They don’t look big enough to take down those moose things on the farm.”
“Kravache,” I correct, fighting a grin despite the tension. “They aren’t big, but they’re smart and fast as hell. They work together.”
“At least someone around here does,” he mutters, then stands tall. “Alright, what do they look like?”
“They’re usually a shade of yellow and have a hooded head, almost like a snake? They’re not much bigger than a dog, but they have six legs, and their tail is a lot thicker. Oh, and there’s a barb at the end you have to watch out for.”
“A snake dog with six legs?” he deadpans, then slaps his hands onto his thighs and stands. “Yeah, nevermind, I’m out. Have fun on your own.”
He turns to walk away and I catch him by the wrist with a laugh. “Too late. If you want to play white knight, you have to stick around for the battle.” He returns to my side with a reluctant chuckle, and I realize I’m still holding on to him.
I release his arm with a tight smile. “They live underwater, so their nest could be anywhere along the stream. Stay alert.”
We follow the tracks in silence for several minutes as the distant murmur of the stream grows louder.
Cato stays close behind me, his machete drawn and resting against his shoulder.
The tension between us hasn’t fully dissipated, but it’s shifted into something focused and alert, and for once, I’m thankful to have his attention on something other than me.
The trees thin as the ground slopes downward, and the air gets more humid before the stream appears ahead. It’s bigger than I expected and half-frozen, with patches of dark, flowing water cutting through the ice. The tracks lead straight to the bank.
I raise a hand, signaling Cato to stop. “There,” I whisper, pointing.
Across the bank, three draxyss are half-submerged in the shallows.
Their sleek, sinuous bodies are covered in mustard-yellow scales that glint in the dawn sunlight.
Hooded, viper-like heads top their long necks, but they’re relaxed.
Their legs curl underneath them while their tails drift in the current, and one of them lazily lifts its head, forked tongue tasting the air.
“Fuck me,” Cato mutters under his breath. “Those are some ugly bastards.”
Before I can reply, the largest draxyss whips its head toward us. Its yellow eyes lock onto our position, and it explodes from the water on all six legs, spraying ice and mud as it charges straight at Cato.
“You just had to speak up, didn’t you?” I groan as I ready my weapon.
“Sure did,” he says with unmistakable excitement. “It’s time to party, pretty boy, and you were taking too long to get it started.”
One of them darts behind Cato, its shadow a blur as it strikes. “Watch your right!” I call.
Cato’s face is a mixture of concentration and unrestrained glee as he swings his machete, catching the creature across its shoulder.
Dark blood sprays across the snow as the draxyss lets out a hissing shriek.
It slashes with its front claws, but Cato is faster.
He dodges the brunt of the attack, though one claw catches his coat and tears the fabric.
“Now you’ve got something else to sew,” I say as I dart in, my tail banding around the creature’s neck to yank it off balance. Cato’s blade sinks into its side and it thrashes, its tail whipping toward my leg. I barely leap back in time, and the barb stabs uselessly into the ground.
“Never going to live that down, am I?” Cato asks with a grin before his eyes focus on something beyond my shoulder. “Behind you!”
I spin just in time to see a second draxyss leaping from the bank, but before I can react, Cato barrels into it mid-air and tackles it to the ground.
“What the fuck, Cato?” I demand as they roll in the snow, the creature snapping at his face while he struggles to keep its jaws away. I rush over and drive my blade down into the base of its skull. It convulses once and goes still, and this fucker smiles at me from beneath its body.
“You’re reckless,” I accuse, using my boot to shove the creature off him.
He stands, dark blood dripping from the front of his coat, as he winks at me. “But I look damn good doing it.”
I gesture at his bloody stomach. “Are you hurt?”
“You kidding? I’m just getting started.”
The third draxyss is smarter. It circles wide, using the trees for cover as its long body slithers low to the ground. We track its movement, and I catch the hesitation in its steps just before it lunges. I drop back and slash, opening a long cut along its flank.
Cato appears beside me and kicks the creature square in the ribs, knocking it back toward the stream. It tries to retreat into the water, but my tail lashes out to hook its hind leg, and Cato finishes it with a stab straight through its head.
Silence falls over the stream bank, broken only by our heavy breathing and the gentle flow of water.
“Two to one,” he says after a moment.
I glance over, brows knitting. “What?”
“The score. I killed two, you got one. I win.”
My eyes move down his body, where his coat is torn in several places and his abdomen is covered in a thick, oozing layer of blood that plops onto the ground. A grin splits his face—wide, toothy, and absolutely fucking gorgeous.
“You are psychotic,” I stress, hiding my smile to keep from encouraging him. “Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Plenty of people,” he says gleefully. “And I’ve never denied it, darlin’.”
I breathe a laugh despite myself, then gesture at his bloody coat. “Are you good? Did they break the skin?”
He glances down, examining his arm and peeling back the ripped layers of hide. “Just a few scratches. Are you about to tell me those ugly fuckers carry some sort of weird deadly shit on their claws and I have minutes to live?”
“Ah, lucky for you, they aren’t venomous. You’ll live to fight another day.”
The three draxyss lie dead around us, blood staining the snow yellow and crimson. He glances down at them, then studies the stream bank. “Bastards are faster than they look. Think there are any more?”
“No. We would’ve already seen them if so. They’re too aggressive to hide from a fight.”
“Yeah, well, relatable,” Cato says, wiping his machete on the snow. Once he’s done, he stands and looks at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “Do you still think it was smart to come out here alone?”
“Maybe not… entirely.”
He huffs an abrupt laugh and shakes his head. “Yeah. Thought so. Next time you need to go on a side quest, come get me.”
“Why?” I demand.
“Why?” he repeats as he steps closer, getting so near I have to tilt my chin up to hold his eyes. A gloved hand reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear before his thumb swipes over my chin, gaze falling to my lips. “Because I’ve got your back, Aryn.”
“I guess we’re even now,” I say with more bravado than I feel, and his eyes lift to mine in question. “I saved your life and now you’ve saved mine.”
“Are we keeping score?”
I hum quietly. “You seem to enjoy it.”
Another smile tugs at his lips, and now I’m the one staring. “Yeah,” he agrees, swiping his thumb over my chin one last time. “I do.”