Page 25 of Charmed By the Alien Warrior

“Youare supposed to get down on your knees and thank the Goddesses I haven’t had your inferior self thrown to the Pugj.”

Chief Bigfoot grunts, a deep, guttural sound that makes my skin crawl, and I eye him warily. His hulking frame radiates menace, every muscle coiled like a predator ready to strike. There’s a flicker in his shadowed eyes as he watches Haavor—a flicker that screams deception. I’d bet my last two cents—which I don’t have—that the Pugj are planning to double cross Haavor and his tribe.

Beside Haavor, the scarred warrior shifts, the faintest movement that somehow pulls my attention like a magnet. His gaze meets mine, and for the briefest moment, something in his expression hits me like a jolt. Unease. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but I’ve spent years analyzing interrogation footage for my podcast. I know how to spot someone holding back, even when they’re trying to hide it. Even when they’re an alien.

He doesn’t look like a man who agrees with this alliance or with any of it.

“With our combined strength the Anuriix tribe will fall,” Haavor continues, drawing my attention back to him. His words carry across the room like a death knell. “They’re the strongest tribe on this planet, and they stand in our way.”

He leans forward as though savoring every word that leaves his mouth. “Once they’re eliminated, every Laediriian onthis planet will bend a knee to the Tussoll tribe. Tome.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze raking over me from head to toe. “And all of the females will be ours.”

My stomach churns at his words, a mix of disgust and fear clawing at my insides. It’s not just his genocidal plans to exterminate an entire tribe that sickens me—it’s the way he talks about us, as though we’re nothing more than objects to be owned. Property to be taken.

But it’s more than that. It’s the wild, unhinged light in his eyes that makes my skin crawl. He’s dangerous and unpredictable.

When I glance at the scarred warrior, his unease seems more pronounced now, even though he’s trying to mask it. His massive hands clench at his sides and his jaw tightens with tension. He doesn’t agree with this.

The silence thickens, oppressive, until it’s broken by the sharp clearing of a throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the other guy who’s seated in a much smaller throne-like chair. The one that I suspect might be the leader of the Xeniiv tribe based on the tattoos that line his arms. Sevvern. From the talk I’ve overheard, he and his warriors have allied themselves with the Tussoll and the Pugj.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Haavor? Something very important.” Sevvern’s tone is calm, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it—a challenge that sends a ripple of unease through the room.

Haavor narrows his eyes, his expression hardening. “What are you talking about?”

Sevvern sneers, the corners of his mouth curling into something cold and calculating. “My role in all of this. Mywarriors’ role. The Xeniiv tribe has not sacrificed so much without a guarantee of reward.” His gaze locking with Haavor’s. “You may dream of ruling this planet, but don’t think for a second you’ll achieve it without us.”

The tension spikes between the two men as they stare at each other. The Pugj leader, Chief Bigfoot, watches the exchange in silence, a dark smile tugging at his lips as though he’s already playing out how to pit them against each other.

I glance at the scarred warrior again. His gaze is trained on Sevvern and Haavor, and while his expression remains neutral, there’s something in the tightness of his muscles that tells me he’s watching this conflict closely.

There’s way more going on here than just an alliance, and these so-called allies are teetering on the edge of tearing each other apart.

And if I can survive long enough, I might just figure out how to use that to my advantage.

Chapter 9

Sorrin

I’ve wasted too much time already.

Terrifying images crowd my mind, each one more gruesome than the last. Small, fragile Mara, her soft flesh torn apart by Pugj claws and teeth. The thought chills my blood and seeps into my very bones.

Another memory rises, unbidden, making my stomach clench with dread.

Over thirty years ago, before I was even delivered from my womb, my father was taken by our enemies. It happened during what should have been a routine hunting trip with another Laediriian. Days later, they both returned alive—but barely. The horrors they endured on the mountain, deep within the Pugj settlement, haunted them for the rest of their short lives.

They survived the torture our enemy inflicted upon them, but not the aftermath. One of them was found dead in hisfurs, his face frozen in an expression of terror. My father… He wandered into the mountains one day, never to be seen again.

I scowl up at the darkening sky, clenching my fists in frustration. If only I could command time to reverse itself. If only I could undo the past and fix all that has gone wrong. But wishing won’t bring back my father. And it won’t bring Mara back, either. Not unless I act.

I’ve only just now reached the edge of the Bitter Forest. I’ve been moving as quickly as my body will allow, but it still isn’t enough. Every second that ticks by, every beat of my heart, is another moment Mara remains in the clutches of the Pugj.

It took far too long for me to regain consciousness, too long for Warrix to treat my wound with the healing salixa gel, and too long to decide on a plan. The others will carry on with the mission. They wanted to come with me, especially the other human, Isabella, but as the leader of this mission, it’s my duty to rescue Mara.

And it is my duty. I should have been more vigilant. I should have anticipated an attack. I was warned that our enemies have been acting strangely. That they have allied themselves with our own people.

But I didn’t heed those warnings, not like I should have, and now, Mara has paid the price for my foolishness.

Her muffled shriek still echoes inside my head, leaching down into my chest, urging me forward until my pace has increased and I’m sprinting as fast as I can. But it’s not fast enough.

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