immediate suffering was kept at bay. But in an hour at
best, the pain would attack her body, overwhelming, frightening.
Possibly even fatal.
It was a risk she had to take if she had even half a chance
of survival. She had to live. For her people. For Judas.
Her big, silver paws hit the sand running while her panther
ears swiveled back, taking in the sounds of the horses surging into a gallop
close behind.
“Angel, hurry!”
Her ears flattened to her skull at Judas’ desperate shout.
He needn’t worry, she was tough. She was a survivor.
And no pain in the world could touch the love for him that
burned bright within.
She surged up the slight incline with her paw pads skimming
over the sand. The horses easily kept pace. She snarled, increasing speed and
all the while aware the mounts were war horses, trained for endurance as much
as speed.
She needed to conserve her energy. Except only a few miles
ahead the blunt, pyramid shapes of the dunes reared from the flat, seemingly
endless desert as though a mirage shimmering bright under a relentless sun.
She tore toward it, panting for breath as the galloping beat
of horses drew closer still. She wouldn’t look back, wouldn’t waiver in her
goal to reach those dunes. She had to focus, to believe she’d make it.
Or she was doomed.
She was only grateful the soldiers didn’t arm themselves
with bows and arrows like the larakyte guards did when they were in
human form. She wouldn’t have had a chance.
The lead horse was breathing heavily through its nostrils
behind her, struggling to keep up. Even so its rider flogged it faster so as
not to let her gain any ground. Akeisha let out another snarl. The cruel rider
had to be Vasilous.
When she finally set paws on the first dune, her muscles
were screaming, lungs burning and heart leaping in her chest.
A horse grunted in distress behind her, then another as they
plowed through the hock-deep sand.
The soldiers wouldn’t continue the chase. It would be
madness.
At the top of the dune she turned back, panting. Vasilous
rained curses on his mount, his face a mottled purple as the horse struggled to
extract itself from the sand. When the beast finally clambered free, its
trembling legs gave way. The horse toppled to its side. Bones snapped and
Vasilous screamed for help, trapped beneath his mount.
She spared the bastard no pity. Karma was a wonderful thing.
Raffia sat easily on his sweat-lathered horse, oblivious to the
chaos nearby. Instead, his eyes burned with hatred as he stared at her staring
back at him. She flicked her tail in disdain and turned away, lifting her face
into the heat.
Glorious, open spaces. Freedom.
She’d never take it for granted again.
In a sudden burst of speed, she ran down the other side of
the dune and up the next, her paw pads barely touching the baking hot sand as
she gloried in her escape.
The sense of victory didn’t last long. She had to turn back,
to see for herself if Judas was okay.
She’d already covered countless miles, her throat parched
and her legs wobbling with exhaustion when she slowed and then stopped. Dunes
surrounded her like an infinite sea of waves. A slight breeze picked up and
swirled the sand.
Oh, hell.
Often the cooling afternoon brought with it a wind that
re-dispersed the top layer of sand, enough to cover her scent, her trail. Even
her amazing cat senses wouldn’t be able to pinpoint which direction she’d come
from, let alone where to find Judas.
She took a deep breath—but her lungs stalled as the pain of
her earlier shift suddenly struck.
She collapsed onto the sand, moaning low in her throat as a
fiery tide burned through her body, torturing her from the inside out. She’d
heard stories of the unbearable suffering her kind went through after they’d
had no choice but to forcefully shift.
She gasped in some air. She’d had no clue how bad it could
really get.
None.
Her eyes squeezed closed at the hapless, involuntary shift
back into human that
best, the pain would attack her body, overwhelming, frightening.
Possibly even fatal.
It was a risk she had to take if she had even half a chance
of survival. She had to live. For her people. For Judas.
Her big, silver paws hit the sand running while her panther
ears swiveled back, taking in the sounds of the horses surging into a gallop
close behind.
“Angel, hurry!”
Her ears flattened to her skull at Judas’ desperate shout.
He needn’t worry, she was tough. She was a survivor.
And no pain in the world could touch the love for him that
burned bright within.
She surged up the slight incline with her paw pads skimming
over the sand. The horses easily kept pace. She snarled, increasing speed and
all the while aware the mounts were war horses, trained for endurance as much
as speed.
She needed to conserve her energy. Except only a few miles
ahead the blunt, pyramid shapes of the dunes reared from the flat, seemingly
endless desert as though a mirage shimmering bright under a relentless sun.
She tore toward it, panting for breath as the galloping beat
of horses drew closer still. She wouldn’t look back, wouldn’t waiver in her
goal to reach those dunes. She had to focus, to believe she’d make it.
Or she was doomed.
She was only grateful the soldiers didn’t arm themselves
with bows and arrows like the larakyte guards did when they were in
human form. She wouldn’t have had a chance.
The lead horse was breathing heavily through its nostrils
behind her, struggling to keep up. Even so its rider flogged it faster so as
not to let her gain any ground. Akeisha let out another snarl. The cruel rider
had to be Vasilous.
When she finally set paws on the first dune, her muscles
were screaming, lungs burning and heart leaping in her chest.
A horse grunted in distress behind her, then another as they
plowed through the hock-deep sand.
The soldiers wouldn’t continue the chase. It would be
madness.
At the top of the dune she turned back, panting. Vasilous
rained curses on his mount, his face a mottled purple as the horse struggled to
extract itself from the sand. When the beast finally clambered free, its
trembling legs gave way. The horse toppled to its side. Bones snapped and
Vasilous screamed for help, trapped beneath his mount.
She spared the bastard no pity. Karma was a wonderful thing.
Raffia sat easily on his sweat-lathered horse, oblivious to the
chaos nearby. Instead, his eyes burned with hatred as he stared at her staring
back at him. She flicked her tail in disdain and turned away, lifting her face
into the heat.
Glorious, open spaces. Freedom.
She’d never take it for granted again.
In a sudden burst of speed, she ran down the other side of
the dune and up the next, her paw pads barely touching the baking hot sand as
she gloried in her escape.
The sense of victory didn’t last long. She had to turn back,
to see for herself if Judas was okay.
She’d already covered countless miles, her throat parched
and her legs wobbling with exhaustion when she slowed and then stopped. Dunes
surrounded her like an infinite sea of waves. A slight breeze picked up and
swirled the sand.
Oh, hell.
Often the cooling afternoon brought with it a wind that
re-dispersed the top layer of sand, enough to cover her scent, her trail. Even
her amazing cat senses wouldn’t be able to pinpoint which direction she’d come
from, let alone where to find Judas.
She took a deep breath—but her lungs stalled as the pain of
her earlier shift suddenly struck.
She collapsed onto the sand, moaning low in her throat as a
fiery tide burned through her body, torturing her from the inside out. She’d
heard stories of the unbearable suffering her kind went through after they’d
had no choice but to forcefully shift.
She gasped in some air. She’d had no clue how bad it could
really get.
None.
Her eyes squeezed closed at the hapless, involuntary shift
back into human that
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