Page 58 of Charmed By the Alien Warrior

Chapter 20

Haley

“Draggar!”

The urgent shout snaps my attention away from the quiet conversation Draggar and I are having and to the open door of the Womb Hut. The Womb Hut houses the artificial wombs the Anuriix tribe uses to reproduce.

The tribe only has two wombs, and only one is in use right now, and it contains the growing offspring of Draggar’s brother, Danir. Danir died earlier this year, leaving his child an orphan before it’s even born. Except Draggar and I have agreed to raise the baby as our own. The thought of us creating a family together fills me with a strange mix of hope and trepidation.

For so long on Earth, having a child was an impossible dream. A dream that I’d long since accepted I’d never achieve. Endometriosis made sure of that. But now, here I am, with a spirit mate by my side and a child on the way. This isn’t the lifeI always fantasized about, it’s better and for the first time, I feel like I’m exactly where I belong.

I turn to see one of the tribe’s young hunters sprinting toward us through the propped-open door like he’s being chased by a dicro. He looks barely older than fifteen—though with the Laediriians’ towering frames, it’s hard to tell exactly how old they are sometimes.

The poor boy looks completely winded, his wiry chest heaving as he comes to a skidding stop in front of us. His silver hair clings to his sweaty forehead, and his eyes are so wide and panic-filled it makes my heart leap with concern.

Damn, I hope it’s not bad news about the mission.

Just a day ago, Sorrin’s eponir returned to the village riderless, and the rest of us human women have been sick with worry. Draggar and his father, Chief Daggir, assured us that Kaja—Sorrin’s mount—likely got spooked, and the two of them are fine.

But I saw the exchange of looks between father and son, the flicker of concern in their usually steady gazes. And Daggir didn’t hesitate to send out scouts to search for signs of trouble, but they haven’t arrived back, yet.

“Take your time, Merix. Breathe.” Draggar steps forward, placing a calming hand on the boy’s arm.

Merix’s head bobs in a quick nod, and he gulps down air. Slowly, his breathing evens out, though his eyes remain frantic. Finally, he blurts out, “The guard at the gate sent me to find you! There are Xeniiv males asking for you.”

I feel Draggar stiffen beside me, his presence turning as solid and unmoving as stone. The faint tension I’d sensed brewing behind his silver eyes now radiates from him in waves,settling in my chest like a nervous ball of energy. His jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a grim line.

“Do you think it’s Sevix?” I ask, my voice quiet.

“Perhaps,” he murmurs. “He promised he would come to me if he needed our assistance.”

Sevix is the young hunter Draggar met in the jungle, a male from the Xeniiv tribe who risked everything to provide for his starving people. It’s a tragic story, one that’s stayed with me since Draggar told me about it.

The Xeniiv’s troubles aren’t just bad—they’re catastrophic. Their new chief, from what I’ve heard, is nothing short of a tyrant. He’s selfish, manipulative, and willing to sacrifice his own people to save himself. Under his leadership, the Xeniiv have been left to rot, their food sources poisoned, and their land stripped bare with the warriors leaving to join up with the Tussoll tribe.

The fact that he’s aligned himself with the Pugj, the very enemies who have caused so much pain to the Anuriix, only adds insult to injury. While the chief and his warriors feast and grow fat on the Tussoll’s generosity, the rest of his tribe is starving.

And then there’s Sevix. He’s just a young hunter—too young to have the weight of so many lives on his shoulders. Yet that’s exactly what he’s taken on. From what Draggar said, Sevix defied his chief by sneaking onto Anuriix land to hunt and provide for the remaining Xeniiv who are too weak to fend for themselves.

When Draggar caught him, he could have punished him. Sevix was poaching, after all. But instead, Draggar listened. He saw the desperation in him, the quiet courage. And he made a promise to Sevix that if he needed help, he could come to us.

If it really is Sevix at the gate, then things must have gotten worse.

“What will you do?” I ask Draggar, my voice soft as I look up at him.

His gaze shifts to mine, and for a moment, I see the burden he carries in his eyes. The weight of leadership, of being the chief’s first warrior—his second in command—and in charge of decisions that could mean life or death. Not just for our tribe, but for others.

But Draggar’s greatest strength has always been his enormous heart—well, hearts—and I know he’ll always do what’s right.

“I'll speak with them. If it is Sevix, we may finally have a chance to help his people,” he says.

I nod, even as a flicker of worry tightens in my chest. Helping the Xeniiv means putting our own people at risk—my friends and the tribe that has welcomed us—especially with the Pugj’s shadow looming over everything. But I know Draggar. He won’t turn his back on someone in need. And neither will I.

Draggar’s gaze shifts to me. “Stay here,” he says firmly.

I shake my head. “Uh-uh, nope. I’m coming, too. Where you go, I go.”

One thing I quickly learned about Laediriian warriors is that they’re protective of their mates. So, for a moment, I think he’ll argue, but then his gaze softens and I feel a rush of warmth through our bond, and with a sigh, he nods.

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