Page 27 of Charmed By the Alien Warrior

When Draggar told us of the Pugj fighters he saw, not just allowed, but welcomed in the other tribe’s village, I didn’t want to believe it. The thought that any of our people would join forces with our enemy is unthinkable. But it is true!

And they have Mara.

My skin shifts colors, attempting to blend in with the surroundings, as I circle the wooden wall that encloses the village. My camouflage abilities won’t make me impossible to spot, but it will make it harder.

There seem to be more sentries placed around the perimeter of the village than I would normally expect, sentries that are both Laediriian and Pugj. I watch as some of the Laediriian guards nervously eye the hairy beings that stand near them, and I’m heartened to see that even if the other tribe is allied with our enemies, that alliance is tenuous, at least for some.

My mind whirls as I consider how to rescue Mara.

The urge to storm through the gates, blade drawn, burns inside me. But I’m not a fool—I’m only one male against an entire village of adversaries. Rescuing Mara demands more thanbrute force. It requires cunning and skill. Luckily, those are things I possess.

Squaring my shoulders, I move silently through the shadows, planning my next move.

Chapter 10

Mara

I shift on the cold stone floor, trying desperately to ease the pain in my thigh, but it’s no use.

From the small window I can’t see much of the village other than part of a tall wooden wall, but I can see the sky. And based on the darkness and the light pouring in from the moons, I’ve been stuck in here for hours.

When Bigfoot brought me to this empty hut, he hurled me in, not even bothering to untie my bound hands and feet, before quickly leaving. The last thing I heard was the ominous turning of a lock after he closed the door with a bang.

It’s obvious from everything I overheard, this is more than just a simple tribal dispute. They plan to slaughter Sorrin’s tribe in cold blood and take us girls for their own.

And one thing is clear—that Haavor guy is completely unhinged. Seriously, like some deranged, finger-steepling bad guy from a movie. And Chief Bigfoot isn’t much better, just alittle more calculated. I got the distinct impression they have a folie a deux thing going on with Chief Bigfoot being the one that is ultimately pulling the strings. Add in Sevvern, the chief of the Xeniiv, and maybe folie a trois would be more appropriate.

It’s clear that I have to get out of here.

The smell of roasted meat drifts through the window, and if this tribe’s schedule is anything like the Anuriix, then most of them have probably gathered near the central fire pit for the evening meal. Which means, it’s the perfect time to act.

My hands and feet may still be tied up, but if I’ve learned anything from all those self-defense videos on social media I’ve watched, I can get out of this. It’s just a matter of trying. I raise my hands high above my head and take a deep breath. The move is supposed to be done while standing, but every time I try to rise, the pain in my thigh sends me crashing back down to the floor. So, improvisation it is.

With a swift motion, I jerk my hands downward, trying to snap the vine ropes apart. Nothing. Gritting my teeth, I try again. And again. But it’s no use. The vines hold strong.

I scowl at them. “What is this stuff? Titanium?”

Groaning with frustration, I decide to move on to plan B. If that doesn’t work, use the items in your surroundings. Glancing around, I study the hut a little closer. But my shoulders sag as I realize it’s completely empty. There’s nothing I can use.

Tilting my head, I study the hut itself. The walls are made of dark gray roughhewn stones of all different sizes with jagged edges protruding slightly in some spots, giving me an idea. I ignore the pain in my thigh as I scoot over to one of the protruding stones.

Closing my eyes for a second, I murmur, “Please let this work.”

Then, I raise my hands to a stone that seems to stick out a little more than some of the others and slowly begin to rub the rope vine against it. Back and forth. Back and forth.

The stone is rough, and each movement sends a jolt of pain through my wrists as my skin is scraped raw. But I try to ignore it and press on. It’s slow going, and at first, I’m almost ready to give up, but then bit by bit, the rope begins to fray.

I’m almost halfway through, now, and my heart is racing so fast I’m surprised they can’t hear it all the way at the fire pit. Freedom is so close now that I can almost reach out and grab it.

But then, just when I actually begin to believe that I might get out of here, my chance at freedom is snatched away. A shuffling sound from outside draws my attention. I push away from the stone and spin around to face the door, burying my hands in my lap so that my work on the bindings around my wrists hopefully won’t be noticed.

I expect it to be another of the Bigfoot creatures, but it’s the scarred Laediriian warrior from before.

My whole body freezes as he eases through the door. Moonlight pours into the small hut illuminating one side of his face and giving me a good look at the pale scar that’s etched deep into his thick skin.

He stands there silently studying me. I want to tell him to take a picture, it’ll last longer, but that flat, dark gaze unnerves me, making the words die on my tongue. Unlike the other Tussoll warriors I’ve seen, this guy is massive, even more so thanthe guys from the Anuriix tribe, and his large frame dwarfs the hut, making it seem even smaller and claustrophobic.

Finally, he moves. My mouth goes dry when he strides across the room in just three steps before dropping to a smooth crouch before me.

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