37. Kerry

Chapter 37

Kerry

I wrenched my arm away from Gilard and raced around the chair I'd been sitting in, putting it between us.

His tusk-filled smile and the hatred in his eyes made my limbs quake. My mom's training flashed through my mind. He'd killed his daughter, and he was going to kill me—but only if he could catch me.

I shrieked, though I wasn't sure anyone would hear. The outer door was locked, so even if someone was passing on the path outside and wanted to help, they couldn't get inside. I doubted they'd climb over the roof like Gilard had.

Snarling, he grabbed the chair and flung it over the rail. It clattered and banged as it fell down the cliff. When he reached for me again, I dove forward, rolling to come up behind him. I didn't wait but jumped through the opening and into our tiny house. Molly shrieked and I scooped her up as I passed, racing to the door.

"Open, gods," I cried out, and the panel gave way.

With a bellow, Nevarn rushed inside, plunging toward Gilard who was right behind me.

I yelped and jumped to the side, barely holding onto Molly who was determined to escape out into the street.

Nevarn and Gilard crashed to the floor together, Nevarn's fists flying.

I shut the door and put Molly down, and she scampered beneath the bed.

Someone banged on the door, but I didn't dare open it. What if it was Heldwep? She'd help Gilard.

Speaking of which.

The guys rolled across the floor, grunting and swinging their fists. Kicking. Meaty thumps rang out along with growls.

I grabbed a chair and when Gilard scrambled to his feet, I raced over and brought it down hard on the back of his head. He groaned and dropped like a felled tree. I swore the entire house shuddered when he landed on the floor on his belly.

Only rough panting rang out in the room.

Nevarn rose to his feet, and when he swayed, I tossed aside the chair and grabbed his arm, easing him toward the bed. Sitting together, he cupped his face in his palms and groaned.

"Are you alright?" I ran my hands along his body, checking for wounds. A few red spots on his face and neck told me he'd soon sport bruises, but nothing appeared broken, and Gilard hadn't cut him.

"I am." He grabbed my arms, stilling me, studying my face and body. "Did he hurt you?"

"I got away before he could. He had a knife."

Rising, Nevarn snatched it up off the floor. He glared down at it. "It's your hunting knife."

They'd snuck inside our home to steal it?

Someone kept banging on the door, and Nevarn opened it. Firion and an older Zuldruxian woman hurried inside.

Firion's eyes widened as he took in Gilard lying face first on the floor and me still sitting on the bed.

"Gilard was going to kill me with my knife and blame it on Nevarn," I said. "But I smacked him with a chair. He won't be swinging my knife around any longer."

"We overheard Heldwep suggest to Nevarn that Gilard was going to kill you," Firion said. "Using your knife, they knew Nevarn would be blamed again." He rolled Gilard over with the toe of his boot. The male moaned and his arms flopped at his sides.

"I've heard and seen enough," the elder said. Her sorrow-filled gaze landed on Nevarn. "I'll call everyone to the village center this evening and announce that Nevarn did not kill Weela, that her parents did."

"If you don't mind," Nevarn said, rubbing a swelling place on his left temple. "Can you keep the reason why they did it among us? Weela was a sweet female, and I don't want anyone gossiping about her. Bad enough her family murdered her. She doesn't deserve to be scorned."

"Very wise," the elder said, dipping her head forward. Her creamy floor-length tunic brushed across her shoes. "If you don't have anything else for me, Firion, I'll ask the criers to call for a village meeting tonight. They'll be banished immediately after. Weela can finally rest in peace."

"I'll take Gilard to an empty building and ask the gods to keep him inside, then collect Heldwep and put her with him." Firion patted Nevarn's arm. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." When Gilard started to stir, Nevarn dropped down to hold the older male in place with his knee. "Gods? Bindings, please."

Thin vines appeared on the floor, and Nevarn used them to tie Gilard's hands behind his back. The other male groaned as Nevarn rolled him back and forth to secure them, and his eyes opened, but he didn't try to fight back.

Firion lifted Gilard to his feet and studied his face. "Can you walk, or do I need to drag you?"

"I can walk," Gilard said softly, all the fire and heat beaten out of him. He'd been caught, and he knew it. Perhaps he was thinking about how he'd have to struggle to survive once he and his mate had been banished.

The two males left, and Nevarn shut the door.

Molly crept out from beneath the bed and scampered over to sit beside us. A few pats set things right in her world.

When I straightened, Nevarn cupped my cheeks in his warm hands. "You're sure he didn't hurt you?"

I wrapped my arms around him. "He didn't. You're going to be sore tonight."

His sad smile rose. "I don't mind. I'm just grateful we've exposed Weela's murderer. As the elder said, maybe now she can rest in peace."

"It's over, then."

"It is."

"Then I think you and I need to go home."

"Home," he said, drawing me closer. "Yes, it's time for me to take my mate home."