Page 31 of Charmed By the Alien Warrior

Unfortunately, confused warrior that I am, it seems that that courageous determination is something I admire about the female beside me.

We travel for a while longer, neither of us speaking. It is just after we stopped at a stream to refill the waterskin I brought with me that the stubborn pace Mara set begins to falter.

Her footsteps grow slower, barely lifting above the ground, and my concern only deepens when I notice her limp.

Sard!I knew it! She is injured. I should go back and find the miserable traitors and make them pay for the harm they’ve caused her.

Just as I have that thought, she stumbles over a tree root, nearly crashing to the ground. Instinctively, my hands shoot out and pull her trembling frame against me, stopping her fall.

For the space of ten heartbeats, we lock gazes. A charged silence envelops us, akin to the electricity in the air before a heavy storm. Everything around us fades away, except for the sound of Mara panting and the loud pounding of my heart in my ears.

Her eyes widen, and I feel as if I can see every part of her spirit in the bright green orbs. I can see the flutter of her pulse at her throat beating as fast as the wings of a lisek, and the urge to drop my mouth and lick the vulnerable skin there surprises me. I inhale deeply and her scent fills my nostrils.

Beneath the light, sweet fragrance that is unique to Mara is something new. Something musky and dark and dangerous. Something that makes my nostrils flare and my cock harden. It winds its way into my head and my veins with a buzz causing a muffled groan to escape my lips and spill into the air between us.

Her hands, so much smaller than my own, but with more power than I would have thought them capable of, clench against my chest. The pads of her fingers are warm and soft against my thick hide.

Red stains her cheeks and spreads down her neck to disappear beneath the material of her shirt. Her small pink tongue peeks out to wet her lips, and my attention immediately drops to her mouth. So soft and lush.

She makes a noise in her throat, then pushes away from me.

“Thanks for catching me,” She mumbles, dropping her gaze to her shoes as if she’s suddenly fascinated by them.

My arms feel empty and cold without her small body enclosed in them, and I want to ask her to return to them. But instead I clear my throat. “It’s no bother.”

Mara refuses to meet my gaze, but her plump cheeks are still flushed a ruddy color. But when she takes a step back, a sharp wince crosses her face, reminding me of her injury.

It’s then I notice the dark smudges and lines beneath her eyes. She is in pain and it is clear exhaustion will soon claim her and drag her down into sleep. Which means it’s time to find somewhere for us to rest until we can continue on our journey.

I glance around, my gaze snagging on a rocky hill rising ahead. A ledge of stone juts out above a dark, cavernous opening.

“You need to rest,” I say, nodding toward the cave. Mara makes a sound of protest, but I continue, “We both need to rest. Just for a little while.”

She hesitates, her expression caught between defiance and fatigue, but before she can argue, a yawn escapes her. She presses a hand to her mouth, her cheeks flushing again.

I chuckle softly. “Wait here. I’ll check it first.”

Before I enter the darkness of the cave, I decide that I don’t like the thought of Mara being left defenseless, even if I’ll only be steps away. So, I draw the small, oddly shaped knife out of the satchel looped around my shoulders, and I press the fabric-wrapped handle into her hands. I have carried the weapon ever since finding it in the grassland, stained with blood. Now, it’s time to return it to her.

Her eyes widen as I press it into her hand. For a moment, she stares at the weapon, her fingers curling around it in stunned silence.

“It’s yours,” I murmur before turning and stepping into the cave.

It only takes a moment to search the chamber. Inside, the air is cool and still. The cave is small, the ceiling too low for me to stand fully upright, but it’s empty and relatively clean. No signs of dried dung, no lingering scents of animals. Patches of moss cling to the stone walls, glowing faintly in hues of green and blue, and casting a soft light over the space. It’ll do.

As I step back into the moonslight, I find Mara still staring at the weapon in her hand. Her eyes finally lift to meet mine, and for a moment, I can see every emotion that dances through her eyes. Surprise, gratitude, happiness. The moment stretches between us until she blinks, breaking eye contact with me as she tucks the weapon into a pocket of her pale blue pants.

"It’s safe," I say, nodding toward the cave.

She hesitates, then steps toward the entrance. I follow closely, my hand instinctively darting out when she stumbles over a loose stone. Her fingers grip mine briefly before she pulls away, but the sensation lingers, the warmth of her touch burning into my skin.

I clear my throat, glancing around for something to make the ground less harsh. The broad leaves of a nearby cupressi tree catch my eye. In no time, I’ve gathered enough to create makeshift beds for us. Inside, I quickly spread the leaves out on the floor of the chamber, making two thick piles.

Mara sinks down with a sigh onto the nearest one, her exhaustion evident in the way her body seems to deflate, as if the fight has suddenly drained from her. Her shoulders slump, and for the first time since we started this journey, her guarded demeanor slips.

I settle on my own pile, close enough to be near if she needs help but far enough to give her space. My gaze flicks to her torn pants and the wound on her thigh. The edges of the blue fabric are frayed and stained dark with blood. I hesitate, then reach into my satchel for the medic kit.

I wasn’t able to bring much when I broke away from the others—just a small amount of rations and the kit Warrik insists we all carry. I silently thank the stubborn medic for his precautions, as I pull the metal box from my pack.

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