A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5513

Flaxseed's eyes sparked the moment he heard the woman. He snapped his gaze toward a distant earthen ridge.

Behind that crumbling slope, several silhouettes wrestled, sand trickling down the ragged face.

"Jared, listen—someone's in trouble!" he shouted, already lunging forward before any reply could form.

The wind staggered him, yet desire and adrenaline drove his feet.

It had been far too long since Flaxseed had tasted female company. A rescue might earn more than gratitude; perhaps grateful arms would soothe the ache that tightened inside him. For a man accustomed to nightly dalliance, this drought had become its own torment—one only he fully understood.

"Flaxseed, slow down!" Jared called after him, yet the older man kept marching through the dunes. Jared sighed, shook his head, and finally trailed along.

The last thing Jared wanted was a fresh problem. Out on this wind-scoured wasteland, he still hadn't straightened out his own mess, much less anyone else's.

But Flaxseed was already barreling toward trouble, and Jared could not, in good conscience, let him go alone. If something ugly hit, Jared would have to wade in anyway.

Besides, Flaxseed lost every shred of restraint the moment a woman entered the picture. Jared had once seen him leave two women unable to walk for an entire night—hardly the rescue this wilderness maiden deserved.

Minutes later, Jared crested a sandy rise. Below, two burly cultivators in tight black fighting gear clamped their fists around a young woman's arms, dragging her across the dust.

Her white dress flared like a fallen petal against endless ocher dunes, so bright it hurt the eye.

She was striking—brows slender as willow leaves, eyes bright as winter stars. Now those eyes blazed with terror and fury while she twisted against iron grips.

The men loomed over her, faces twisted, pupils glimmering with something unclean that seemed to sour the very air.

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