Page 8 of Charmed By the Alien Warrior

Something tightens in my chest, but I force a small smile. “You won’t.”

My sister searches my gaze for a moment, her green eyes so much like my own, and then, she huffs out a breath and nods. “If you’re sure.”

Hopping up, Maddie crosses to the door. “Since you’re going, I’ll go see if I can find an extra satchel for you to pack your clothes in.” She disappears through the door, and I go back to sorting through my belongings.

Not that it takes long to do that. Two shirts and a dress made out of an animal hide that has been worked until it’s buttery soft and underwear pieced together from loincloths the Laediriians gave us. Then, there’s the jeans, sneakers and hot pink bra I was wearing when I was abducted. The rest of my clothes had nearly disintegrated by the time we made it to the Anuriix village, but I’m thankful to at least have something from my old life. Some of the girls don’t even have that much.

“You’re not scared?” A small whisper comes from across the room, startling me. It’s Emily. I had almost forgotten about her.

I look up and see her pale face peeking out from the fur blanket she’s buried under. Her blonde hair is neatly braided over one shoulder.

Her question catches me off guard. I hadn’t even realized she was paying attention, let alone awake.

“A little.” I shrug, then decide to be honest. “A lot actually. But I really want to do this.”

Emily nods, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she turns onto her side, facing away from me.

I let out a slow breath, staring at her back. She’s been like this ever since the crash—quiet, withdrawn, as if she’s a ghost of herself. During our time on the spaceship, it was the same. She barely spoke, spending her days curled up, staring into nothingness.

The other women notice it, too. I’ve seen the way they glance at her when they think no one’s looking, their concern etched into every furtive glance. We’re all worried. And none of us knows what to do about it.

A sharp rap on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn toward the sound, already assuming it’s Maddie returning from her self-appointed mission.

“Come in,” I call out absently.

But it’s not Maddie. It’s someone else entirely.

Sorrin stands in the doorway, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

He’s tall, filling the frame of the door and blocking out most of the light behind him. Though not the biggest of the Laediriian warriors, he’s still at least a foot taller than me. His aqua skin catches the faint light in the room making everything suddenly seem brighter.

Then there’s the smile.

It’s wide and almost always present. His lower lip—fuller than it should be—seems made to...Nope. I shake the thought away before it can go any further. Not going there.

I jerk my gaze up from its perusal of his mouth, and our eyes meet. Even his eyes look like they’re smiling, almost as if he’s on the verge of laughing at some joke.

Sorrin inclines his head at me, his deep voice rumbling through the room. “Daggir has called a meeting of the volunteers in his hut. He sent me to request your attendance.”

Which means I have to go. I’m assuming when the chief of the tribe requests your attendance, it’s not actually a request, it’s more like an order.

I nod and open my mouth, ready to tell him that I’ll follow him there, when I notice Sorrin’s attention drop to my hands. And that’s when I realize what I’m still holding.

The hot pink bra.

I freeze. My fingers grip the offending piece of fabric as though I can will it out of existence. A wave of heat flushes my face, and I’m certain my cheeks are now beet red. I quickly stuff the bra behind my back.

Sorrin’s ever-present smile sharpens with curiosity as he cranes his head trying to peek around me to see what I’m holding. His prominent brow ridge—where his eyebrows would be if he was human—raises high in silent amusement, while his grays eyes twinkle with unspoken questions.

I want to sink through the floor.

“What is th—,” he starts to ask, but I cut him off.

My voice is high and frantic as I say, “I’ll be there in a minute!”

Before he can say another word, I lunge for the door and slam it shut.

Leaning against the wood, I press my hands over my flushed cheeks and groan, humiliation washing over me in waves. I can hear his chuckle through the door. It’s a low, warm sound that almost seems to lodge itself deep inside me.

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