Wounds of the Warrior

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Serial: Part 3 of 3 (Approx. 5000 of 15400)

Part 1 / Part 2

The plateau came to an edge, cutting down so steeply only a mountain goat could hope to navigate it. Cohriahra scowled at the offending piece of terrain, leaning out to look down at the tips of the trees stretching up towards her, searching for some inkling that they’d been going the right direction. A light touch against her lower back made her heart skip a beat.

“Planning on falling?”

“Only if you push me,” she said.

Mahden’s hand pressed firmer against her flesh, warm despite the rain, and his other came snaking across her middle, pulling her up and tugging her away from the edge. She contemplated shoving him away, her annoyance high at his protective nature that begged the question of how incapable he must think she was. In the end, she relaxed, letting him guide her into stepping away, her body flush with the pleasure of having someone touch her as if they cared.

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Wounds of the Warrior

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Serial: Part 2 of 3 (Approx. 5200 of 15400)

Part 1

The first question came as he braced to set her bone. “What’s your name?”

“Cohriahra,” she gritted out from around the edge of the fur he’d let her shove in her mouth.

“How many cub mates do you have?”

She blinked at the question, but relaxed her jaw enough to respond around her mouthful. “You mean littermates or siblings?”

“Either. Both.” He was moving his hands along her arm, his touch agony wherever he pushed.

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Wounds of the Warrior

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Serial: Part 1 of 3 (Approx. 5200 of 15400)

She was dying a shameful death. Life seeping out from the bandage at her side. No bleeding to death from her injuries, no, nothing close to a prideful death. Infection had set in. She could feel it eating at her strength, sapping her energy. Her steps had turned slothful. Lethargy had come to make friends with her before she gave in to her shameful death.

Cohriahra leaned against the wide bark of a pine and ground her teeth on the leather strap she’d shoved into her mouth at the start of the gauntlet. It had kept her from screaming then and it kept her from screaming now.

Every time she glanced down, she winced at her bare, naked skin. Her clan markings were gone. Nothing but real blood leaking down her side, drying in strange patterns.

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Only One Worth Kissing

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Serial: Part 2 of 2 (Approx. 4200 of 8600)

(Part 1 can be found here)

“Is something wrong?” asked Harmony in greeting as her brother advanced on them.

“Wrong?” said Cantin, his voice loud, shattering the mood. He looked straight at Derik, all but ignoring Harmony’s presence. “You must have something wrong with you. I told you to back off!”

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Only One Worth Kissing

Copyright © Emmi Lawrence

All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author.

Serial: Part 1 of 2 (Approx. 4400 of 8600)

The danger posed by the Addled Bog tended to be over-exaggerated. Derik knew from experience given he’d passed through plenty of times. Then again, he hadn’t traversed this area closer toward the peat mounds before, but he was relatively sure that things would be fine. If he hadn’t been, he certainly wouldn’t have suggested Harmony come with him.

“The Frog Pool? Really?”

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