Mastered by the Zandians (Zandian Brides 3)

I don’t have a weapon either, but I have myself.

Without thinking, I scream out my battle cry, and the animal turns to me, more slowly than you’d expect—almost like it’s casually determining if I’m worth attacking.

Then it decides. Leaps

at me.

It’s been a while since I moved like this, and although this isn’t a good situation, there’s something instantly gratifying about being in such control of my body. I whirl and kick, my signature move, and crack its skull with my foot.

It roars and leaps, barely missing me with those teeth. Dripping with poison. One drop—

The heat of its mouth warms my leg and I scream again, jump, kick.

Amber and Kianna are coming to help, thank Mother Earth, because this thing is more powerful than I expected.

Amber grabs a rock and hurls it, connecting with the animal’s side. The soft thud and the grunt are like music, but it barely puts a dent in the creature’s energy. With renewed vigor, it growls again and crouches.

Kianna leans backward just a bit and braces for a leap.

“Kianna. Lean forward, balls of your feet. Wait for it to move, and then leap.”

She doesn’t respond because there’s not time, but she follows up instructions and ends up delivering a powerful kick.

I step in and attack from the other side, and with the two of us, relentless, the animal finally falls. Collapsed into a heap, slack, it’s much smaller now.

I double over, hands on my knees, adrenaline rushing to my head. I glance at my leg to verify it didn't actually graze me with those teeth, checking my skin over and over, just to be sure. I can’t feel any pain, but stars, you never do until later. “You all right?” I ask Kianna.

“Fine. I’m fine.” Kianna breathes hard. “It didn’t scratch me. You?”

“I’m fine.” My words are automatic. I get to my feet and scan the area. “It came up fast and silent, from that direction.” I point. “Someone needs to go scout and see what drew it out. Eventually.”

We head back to the dome and I glance over at my co-workers. They’re both a little pale, and Amber’s eyes are glassy. For a second I feel sympathy. They’re tough, sure, but they’re not like me. They don’t know how to kill and then get right back to life.

In fact, they’re freaking out. Amber is panting, shallow sucks of air, and if she doesn’t stop, she’s going to hyperventilate and pass out.

“Breathe deeply,” I tell Amber. “In and out for a count of three.” I demonstrate, then show her how to clench your chest and press down, a maneuver that presses on the nerves that control the heart, so she can quiet her racing pulse.

“I can’t. I can’t do it.” Her gaze is wild.

“You can.” I take both her hands, then press my hand to her chest, below her breasts. “When I press, you push down, bear down, like you have to eliminate. Like you’re trying to squeeze out everything inside. Only stop and breathe again when I remove my hand.”

She nods and tries it, and after a few minutes, when I touch her wrist, her pulse is normal again.

“Thank you.” Her voice is a little hoarse. “I didn’t expect to get so scared.”

“It happens. It’s a physical reaction. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I touch her hand. “Sometimes the panic comes later, after the initial shock wears off.”

“How did you know what to do?” Her voice is low.

I shrug. “It’s what I’ve done all my life. Learned to fight and rescue. I guess it was just instinct at this point.”

“Well, you saved our lives.” Amber swallows. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Her voice rises. “Is that what you think of us? We’re nothing to you?”

“No!” I step back. “I just meant.” I blink. When my voice comes out again, it’s a whisper, and I'm horrified at how close to tears I sound. “I just meant that it’s probably nothing compared to what I need to do to fit in here. I’ll never fit in.”