Bronto's Revenge (Barbarian Lust, #2)

“Yeah, that’s what it is,” Vulcan said as he approached, carrying two axes and a shovel. “Your charm.” He too chuckled. “Sorry to break this to you but I’ve seen more charm in the mutants’ eyes.”


Bronto nudged his fist playfully into Vulcan’s chin. “You’re an ass. I state that with the utmost respect, sir.”

“Okay, boys,” Zypher said while moving away from the tree and taking an ax from Vulcan’s hand, “time to get busy. Daylight isn’t going to wait on us.”

Brushing ferns aside with his foot, Bronto headed toward Tyran, scoping the underside of the leaves for the babies. He’d hate to step on one and hurt it. Some of the plants were large enough to hide a wild hog. There wouldn’t be any trouble concealing a juvenile dinosaur, as Tyran called them.

During the next hour they’d taken down four conifer trees, four evergreens and two pines. After they’d bound them with ropes to drag into camp a loud boom erupted in the direction of the mountains. Another boom followed, accompanied by two more.

Bronto dropped the rope and walked to the outskirt of the forest. A full-grown dinosaur headed in their direction, its head bobbing up and down in conjunction with its languid footsteps.

Ground debris rustled as Zypher settled beside Bronto. “I think we stirred ourselves a whole lot of shit,” Zypher said. “Look at the size of that thing.”

How could he miss it? It stretched at least eighty feet long from head to tail. “It’ll take it a while to get here. Let’s get everyone settled in the underground shelters.” As he stepped over a large rock, making a path to the camp, he spotted two more dinosaurs entering the clearing.

“Men,” Vulcan shouted, “let’s go! If they’re coming for the babies, they’ll trample us. Round up the tribe.”

“I doubt that’s their intention,” Tyran said. “But it isn’t wise to assume what they’ll do.”

Bronto trotted to his hut to wake Ivy but when he threw back the flap the dwelling was vacant. His heart lurched as he dashed toward the yard, checking the other huts for occupancy as he passed by. Of course he wouldn’t find anyone because they were hollering and racing toward the underground shelters. He’d seen everyone whose name he’d encountered in his mind. Everyone but a specific woman whose absence shot his guts to his throat.

Where the hell is Ivy? She wasn’t by the pen or the fire. Or with Wisteria because Vulcan already had her tucked beneath his arm as he urged her away.

“Ivy!”

No answer. Not a peep.

What if the species had broken through the guards and taken her from the hut? Oh man, he didn’t want to think of that possibility. “Ivy!” he shouted again, his stomach twisting in knots.

His heartbeat raced in panic mode, reaching his ears. Then suddenly it stopped when he spotted her by the supply hut, handing a fistful of something to Grunt. What the fuck? Grunt could have swept her away as easily as any of the species could have. No one would have questioned her absence either, assuming she’d sought shelter.

Bronto steeled his shoulders and forced air into his lungs. A dull ache ticked along the tension in his spine. Part of him wanted to wait it out to see what she’d do next but he refused to err on the side of caution and he charged forward.

He grabbed her by the arm and none too lightly. “What are you doing?” he asked, yanking her around.

“I-I was…” Her eyes widened when she spotted him and he bet she didn’t like the expression she saw.

He’d never felt so damn betrayed. Men like Grunt didn’t learn lessons. So, the beating he’d already endured and the prospect of a new ass whooping held no merit. Bronto clenched his free hand into a fist but restrained from sucker punching the SOB. Realistically Grunt hadn’t done anything but hold up his hand. He hadn’t even touched Ivy. It was her touching him when she laid something in his palm. “Go to the weapons shelter,” Bronto ordered.

Her gaze danced around his face. “What about—”

“Now.”

While she turned and ran off he glanced at Grunt’s hand to see what she’d given him. Tips of yarrow leaves were sticking through his fingers. “Stay away from her, Grunt. This is my final warning.” He stormed away, keeping his eye on Ivy’s back as he followed her to the shelter.

A thunderous boom-boom resounded louder and shook the ground as the footsteps drew near.

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