Desideria came awake just in time to see Caillen running back to their burning pod. What was the moron doing now? Hadn’t anyone ever told him that the correct protocol was to run away from burning objects?
Her head throbbed so badly that she feared she’d vomit. More than that, her vision was blurry. She reached up to wipe the sweat from her forehead. The moment she touched it, she realized it wasn’t sweat. She was bleeding all over the place.
It’s a concussion.
Her stomach lurched as more pain pounded through her body. Rolling to her side, she saw Caillen vanish inside the pod. He’s going to kill himself.
Let him.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t. He’d pulled her out twice now and saved her life. She’d still be inside the burning pod but for him.
Get up, soldier. Time to save the heroic idiot.
As she came to her feet, she heard a loud crash from the pod. There was no sign of Caillen. A bad feeling went through her.
He was dead or trapped.
Only a complete imbecile would run into a burning pod…
Bad thing was, she was an imbecile. Especially since she owed Caillen her life and even if it was only a small chance he was still alive, she couldn’t leave him there to burn.
Forcing down her nausea, she headed for the pod on unsteady feet.
The smoke was so thick as she neared it that she could barely see. The stench did nothing for her nausea. You’re a Qillaq. Stop whining.
Over the loud popping and roar of the fire she heard something… A string of obscene profanity.
She couldn’t help smiling as she used his angry tirade against the gods to find him trapped under burning debris. His wrath was palatable as he tried to free himself.
“I hope you melt into oblivion! Stupid, stupid son of a—” His words broke off as he saw her. For an instant, his entire face lit up, then it turned to a dark scowl. “Are you out of your krikkin mind? Run!”
She did, but it was toward him.
Caillen was astounded as she knelt down to help him get free. “There’s a tank about to blow. You have to leave. We only have a few seconds. I can smell it.”
“Not without you.”
“Princess—”
“Not without you,” she enunciated each word sharply, letting him know that he was the one wasting their time with a useless argument. She pulled as hard as she could against the hot metal that pinned him to the floor. “I’d already be dead if not for you. I’m not about to leave you after that. Now shut up and help!”
Caillen smiled at her sharp command. Only a sick bastard like him would find that amusing, especially given his circumstances. But they didn’t have long.
He growled as she lifted the burning beam where his leg was trapped. He slid his foot free and grabbed the pack. But not before he could hear the tank whine and whistle.
It was about to go. Their time could only be measured in heartbeats now.
Even though his foot felt broken, he grabbed her hand and his pack and ran with her from the pod.
Still they weren’t safe. The shrapnel would blow out for yards and could very easily pierce them. Tightening his hand on hers, he pulled her toward a copse of trees that would hopefully offer some protection.
They’d only made it halfway there before the pod blew. The shock wave of the explosion pitched them forward, causing them to tumble. All Caillen could do was try to protect his head as he rolled and fragments rained down all around them.
He came to rest on his stomght=/font>
Desideria lay a few feet away from him, on her back. Unmoving.
A sick feeling of dread constricted his stomach. “Princess? You alive?”
“No,” she groaned.
“Me either.”
A second explosion sounded. Caillen cursed as he saw more shrapnel heading for them, including a sizable chunk of the door. Grabbing Desideria, he barely made it behind a fallen log before the door impaled itself upright in the ground right where she’d been. Small fires burned all around them.
Her face pale, she looked up at him in awe. “Thank you.”
Letting out a long breath in relief, Caillen laid his head on the ground and did his best not to whimper from the pain that was tearing through every single inch of his body. He felt like he’d been run through a compactor. The last thing he wanted was to move, but he needed to check on her and tend the long gash in his leg. His luck it’d turn to gangrene and he’d lose it if he delayed treatment.
“Any time, Princess. But really, we have to do something about these near fatal interactions of ours.” Bracing himself for the pain, he sat up.
She glared accusingly as she shoved at his shoulder. “Don’t you dare blame me for this. What the hell was so important that you had to go back for it and risk our lives?”
“I only risked my life. You’re the loon who came back for me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t agree more. Now why would you go back?”
He held his pack up.
She gaped at him, then glared as if she could murder him herself. “You almost killed us for a stupid backpack?”
“Not a backpack, baby. It’s a survival pack.”