Blix clung to Alf’s back, jouncing with the force of his pounding steps. A shadowy limb slashed at her face as she glanced over her shoulder. A huge pack of wolves glided through the trees at an easy lope, accelerating at the flanks to surround them.

It was the biggest pack they’d seen that day. They had wandered the forest for hours, searching for signs of high orcs. Alf claimed he’d found the spot he’d seen the first one, but the area had been completely devoid of wildlife. It was possible, of course, that her spawning theory was wrong, but if the dust was able to recycle monsters, why not duplicate the spawn point trope? It only made sense.

A whine sounded at two o’clock. An answering yip at eleven.

“We’re going to have to stop and fight,” she hissed. “We can’t outrun them. There!” She pointed to an ancient live oak at the edge of a small clearing. “To protect your back.”

“I thought that was your job.” He sprinted the last thirty feet and turned to face the wolves. “Can you reach any limbs?”

“No time. Hannah went crazy with the buckles.” Hannah had created a piggyback harness from their supply of scavenged straps and buckles. It was a lot easier on Alf since he didn’t need to support her with one or both hands, but getting in and out of it wasn’t an easy process—especially now that it was dark.

Two wolves charged at the same time, one going high and the other low. Alf cracked the leaping wolf in the skull, sidestepping as it smashed into the tree. A jolt passed through Alf’s frame. He staggered backwards, crushing Blix against the tree. Another wolf darted in from the side. It chomped down one of the fake legs Hopper had attached to the harness, thrashing it’s head from side to side.

“Try the sword,” Blix called out.

“I’m trying!”

A keening yelp sounded at Alf’s feet. Another off to the right. One more to the left. Alf was hacking and slashing, swinging the long sword in both hands like a lumberjack trying to clear an entire forest.

A jolt stabbed into Blix’s thigh. A wolf clung to her leg, dragging her down, yanking her from side to side. A belt cut into her gut. She couldn’t hold on. Couldn’t breathe.

Blood sprayed her in the face. At first she thought the wolf had severed her femoral artery, but suddenly she could breathe again. The sounds of battle had subsided. All she could hear was Alf’s panting breaths.

“Are they gone?” She blinked against the haze of blood and tears.

Alf dropped to his knees, which she took that as a yes. “Where… are you… hurt?” he asked between breaths.

“Don’t worry about me. Heal yourself before they come back.”

“All dead.”

“What?” Blix climbed higher onto his back and looked around. Dead wolves formed a semicircular mound. The dust was already carrying bits and pieces away. There had to be spawn points. Had to be.

“You were pretty good with that sword,” she said. “How many EXP did the wolves give?”

“Fifty-six points per wolf. I think there were eleven. And leveled up sword without needing to spend a point.” He reached back and started unbuckling the harnesses.

“That means they were probably level four, but still… Eleven wolves at once is amazing. I get why you leveled.” She released the last buckle and slid to the ground with a squeak of pain.

He rounded on her and eased her to the ground. “Where else besides your leg?”

“Focus on yourself,” she grated out. “If a high orc—”

Cool hands pressed against the fevered skin of her thigh. Relief flooded into her leg, washing away the pain with wave after wave of tingling warmth and… Oh. My. God. She pressed a hand to her mouth, chomping down on the meat of her palm to stave off complete and total humiliation. Oh my God. He broke contact and, just like that, the her personal sun was gone, leaving her cold and bereft and alone.

“Where else are you injured?”

She had to breathe a few seconds before she trusted herself to speak. “Oh my God…” Obviously, she hadn’t waited long enough. “That was… intense.”

His expression clouded.

“The good kind of intense,” she clarified. “As in…” She bit her lip to shut herself up.

“How does your leg feel?”

“Good.” She ran her hand across the bite wound. “I think it’s pretty much—” She pushed to a sitting position, swiveling to examine her leg in the moonlight. “She scars…” Her throat tightened as tears burned in her eyes. “They’re...” She turned to Alf and grabbed a big fistful of his tunic. “Please… I’ll do anything. Just heal my face. Please!”

“I… Of course,” he stammered. “I just…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m… I just…” Another, even deeper breath. “I would have done it before but…”

“What the heck?” Heat flared inside her chest. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I like you,” he forced the words out like they were painful. “I like you a lot, and I…”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you,” he said. “I tell you I like you, but you can’t even hear it. If you don’t believe me now, how will you believe me after the scars are gone? You’ll think it’s just because you’re beautiful, but it’s not. I mean it is, but it’s more than that. Way more.”

“Wait…” Blix yanked hard on his tunic, glared at him with a look that threatened all kinds of pain if he wasn’t straight with her. “You’re saying you think I’m beautiful—that I’ll be beautiful when you heal…”

“I’m saying you’re beautiful now.” He glared back at her. “But you’re too pigheaded and cocky and… the opposite of cocky and stupid and…” He shook his head and turned away. In anger maybe? Exasperation? Frustration? “Forget it. Why do I even bother?”

Blix opened her mouth to blast him, but she was too baffled to get anything out.

Just when she was sure he would walk away, he leaned in close and kissed her.

Something deep inside her flared to life. A desperate, almost instinctual need overwhelmed her sensibilities. She fisted his hair, pulled him closer, deepened the kiss until it tingled all the way down to her legs, but it wasn’t enough. She pushed him onto his back, pulled him closer, plunged deeper and deeper until the pressure was unbearable.

A whimper seemed to pass between them, but she couldn’t tell where it started or ended. Didn’t care. She just wanted more. Needed more.

Alf crushed her to his chest, rocking back and forth like he was comforting a baby. When had she started crying? “It’s okay. Let it out.” His lips pressed to ruined side of her face.

Part of her wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t move. He was right. She was stupid and ridiculous, and she was going to scare him away if she couldn’t get control of her stupid emotions. She was better than this. She’d gone through three years of hell, endured the most intense pain known to mankind. This was the dust. It had gotten into her brain. She tried to pull away, but he held her even tighter.

“Shhh…” He kissed a sensitive spot near her ear. “Shhh…”

“I’m sorry.” She hated how pathetic she sounded. “This isn’t me. I…” She started to wriggle away, but something brought her up short. Oh my God. He seriously thought she was beautiful. His body couldn’t be lying—not that much. She smacked him on the chest and leaned back to catch her breath.

“What was… that for?” He seemed to be out of breath too. For some reason, that made her feel a little better.

“For being infuriating.” She smacked him again. “And ridiculous.” Another smack. “And…”

Another smack sounded. But this time it came from the woods. Snaps and thunks. The swish of swaying treetops. The crack of splintering wood.

Alf sat up and tried to untangle the harnesses, but it was too late.

The trees parted with a crash, and a giant orc stepped into the clearing.

Sometimes she hated being right.