Bronto's Revenge (Barbarian Lust, #2)(10)

“I have no choice. It’ll attack the first person who climbs out of the shelter.”

Oh gosh, she couldn’t imagine that happening. It would be a horrid, gruesome, painful death.

The cave lion lifted its head at the sound of their voices and peered in their direction. Dark, hungry eyes bored into them as it raised its back end, preparing to lunge. Bronto took aim and released the arrow, plugging it into the animal’s throat. The lion roared. Then sprang forward. And charged.

Ivy screamed and jumped to her feet.

“Run, Ivy,” Bronto shouted. “Go. Go!”

There wasn’t enough time to decide which direction to flee, so she spun and ran for her life straight ahead. No way could they outrun a cave lion. No way possible.

Oh gosh! Oh gosh!

The hair on the back of her neck stood. Air sawed in and out of her lungs and her chest felt as though it were on fire. Large and small twigs cracked under her feet, pricking her soles, but she was too frightened to feel actual pain. Then she hit a patch of briars or thorns or thistle. She yelped when something punctured her skin. It hurt badly but she couldn’t stop running to pluck it free. The lion was still on their trail. Its paws loudly pounded the ground. It was close. Too close.

What if it reached Bronto?

She fled deep into the forest to an area she’d never been. The layer of ferns covering the ground grew denser, to the point she couldn’t see beneath the leaves. Anything could be hiding under them. Anything. Small animals. Snakes. Eek.

She ran faster. And faster. To where it felt as if her feet barely touched the ground. She ducked under branches large enough to knock her down and shoved others aside, hoping they wouldn’t spring back.

Her chest was ready to explode. Blood rushed to her ears, obstructing her hearing. Sweat poured from her forehead, dripping into her eyes. They burned and her vision blurred. She tried rubbing them to clear the haze but it worsened.

“Ivy, stop!”

The deep undertone broke through the muffled sounds in her ears. She halted and spun around. Overexertion hit her instantly and she nearly dropped.

Bronto caught her by the waist before she hit the ground and he tugged her close to his chest, supporting her weight. “It’s down,” he said, panting between breaths. “It’s dead.”

Little by little the pressure in her chest eased and the blood rush completely vanished from her eardrums. She rubbed her eyes on Bronto’s furs but her vision didn’t clear as quickly as she’d hoped. She blinked. Then blinked again. Finally the burning subsided and she could clearly see. She glanced past his upper arm. The lion lay on its side with a brownish-pink tongue hanging out the side of a mouth full of sharp teeth. Blood was splattered over the animal’s tan fur and spurted from the hole where the arrow still protruded.

“I’m sorry, love,” Bronto said against the top of her head, his breaths rustling through her hair. “I didn’t have a clear shot to its heart. I’ll never put you in that type of situation again.” He tightened his embrace. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You did what you had to.” She stepped from his arms and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. A purple haze glowed beyond a thick row of oak and conifer trees, their tops and upper branches barren. The calming sound of a waterfall rose from the same direction. “Where are we?”

She took Bronto by the hand and walked toward the haze. The throbbing, burning pain in the bottom of her feet reached her brain and she winced. She halted and sat down. Amazingly, though, with her feet no longer bearing her weight, the pain disappeared.

“What’s wrong?” Bronto asked.

Genuine concern filled his eyes and she smiled. “I feel as if I’ve stepped on a porcupine.” She grabbed her ankle and draped her leg over her knee to inspect her foot. It wasn’t so bad. A few barbs were partially stuck in the skin. One at a time she pinched them between her nails, pulled them out and tossed them into the brush.

She stood, brushing her bottom off, then grabbed hold of Bronto’s upper arm, snuggling her cheek against his bicep as he headed toward the sound of rushing water. When they breached the row of conifers and oaks they stepped into a paradise of bright colors. Her breath caught. Bronto whistled.

“Wow,” she said in disbelief, eyeing the beauty. It was even more beautiful than the yellow lake, which was hard to believe. “Wisty would love this place. Where are we?”

“I’ve never seen it before,” Bronto replied.

A pink fish with a yellow, long, snakelike tail jumped from a small pond where purple water flowed from the edge of a tall cliff. Another fish emerged. Then another. They frolicked, jumping high out of the pond, and bumped bellies. After they submerged into the pond they sprang from the water and bumped tummies again.

Ivy giggled. Beyond them were four columns of lily pads. They stood on either side of the waterfall. Orange, spiked flowers sprouted from the top of each column. Between a span of shallow forest and the cliffs, a golden hue glowed from the entrance of a cave. “It’s so beautiful, Bronto.”

Slowly they approached the pond. She sat down on the border of blue, flat, sparkling rocks. The fish swam to the inside edge and lingered, their nearly transparent fins swaying back and forth. If Wisteria were here she’d reach into the water and pet them but Ivy wasn’t as bold. She’d rather visually admire things than touch them and risk getting bitten. “I would love to remain here and explore but we should go. Your people are in danger.”