Bronto's Revenge (Barbarian Lust, #2)(11)

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Can we come back sometime?”

“Absolutely.”

Just as they neared the forest wall, the sound of whining animals breached her ears.

She glanced toward the waterfall. Near the cave entrance many baby animals, partially buried in the ground, struggled to break through the dirt. Her eyes widened and she halted. “Br-Bronto?”

She must have spoken too softly because he didn’t respond and continued walking. “Bronto?” She raced beside him and tugged him to a stop. “Look,” she said, pointing toward the babies.

He whipped around. “What?”

“By the cave.”

He retraced their steps and squatted near the pond, where he examined from a short distance many brownish-gray heads with dark, beady eyes. “Unbelievable.”

The babies made chirping sounds as their necks stretched to and fro. “What are they?” she asked in disbelief.

“They look like baby dinosaurs.”

She gulped. “They do? Are they tyrannosaurs?” Her voice squeaked. “Why are they growing from the soil?”

“Some dinosaurs bury their eggs. It appears they’ve hatched.”

“You don’t know what kind they are?”

“No, but I bet Tyran does. If I knew whether or not they’re carnivorous I’d dig one up for him.”

“You can’t!” she yelped. “What about its momma?”

“I’m not going to, love. Not without knowing for sure what it is.”

“Do you think the momma is who disrupted the camp?” Gosh, they’d fled the dinosaur and might have ended up in its home.

“Possibly. If so, she’ll return.” He stood. “Let’s get out of here before that happens.”

She clamped on to his hand and followed him into the forest, where he guided her along their original path.

As they approached the cave lion she stopped. Bugs whizzed circles around its face and ears and the blood beneath its neck had traveled to a lower area of ground and formed a puddle. “Wouldn’t its fur make beautiful garments?”

“Most definitely.”

“Wisty knows how to sew. She used to help my momma.”

“Ivy, if you want the hide, it’s yours. I need help to drag the lion to the camp, though.”

“I do want it.” She couldn’t contain her excitement and smiled. “I can help you.”

He grinned. “It’s going to take more than you and me to pull a four-hundred-pound animal, I’m afraid.”

She snuggled her cheek against his arm. “Wisty has many skills. I try to help her when she sews but my only talent is carving pictures.”

She sensed his eyes on the top of her head as he led her away from the lion and back onto the path. “So you’re an artist,” he said.

“No. I carve animals into ivory pallets.”

“That is art,” he explained. “Therefore you’re an artist.”

“Who drew the pictures of insects on your arms?”

“They’re scorpion tattoos, engraved by a tattoo artist.”

“They don’t wash off?”

He smiled and shook his head. “No. They were etched into my skin with a needle and permanent ink.”

She cringed. “What’s their purpose?”

“Personal preference. It’s a form of body art. Your sister’s jewelry craft is also an art.”

“Then she’s an artist too?”

“Yes.”

Ivy sighed as she stepped over a log. “Tell me about your brothers and sisters. Do you have any?”

“I do. I have one sister who I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve been a part of the Special Forces for a long time. About nine years.”

Her brows scrunched. “How long is a year?”

“It’s… How old are you, Ivy?”

“I’ve lived through twenty seasonal harvests.”

“Each seasonal harvest is the equivalent of one year. So you’re twenty years old.”

“Then why haven’t you seen her in such a long time?”

“After our parents died she moved away and got married,” he said then paused to clear his throat. “I joined the Special Forces.”

“Your parents died? How tragic.”

“Yes, it is. My mother’s heart gave out. Shortly after, my dad’s did as well.”

She didn’t know what she’d do if her momma died. Her father, gosh… Her eyes filled with tears but she blinked them away. Sadly he’d appeared dead long before the aliens killed him. He had existed but that was all. He used to talk to only her mom and hunted as was expected of the clan leader but when it came to his children his emotions were already gone.

She tightened her hold on Bronto’s arm, pushing thoughts of death aside. It was too morbid to dwell on. She’d rather indulge in nice visions like sleeping in Bronto’s embrace, or of him kissing her for the first time. When would that happen? What was taking him so long?

“Ivy?”

She raised her head at the sound of Wisteria calling her name.

“Ivy!”