Page 15 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

She exhales softly, and the puff of air is warm against my back. She doesn’t respond right away, but I can feel the tension racking her smaller frame.

Finally, she asks, “And what’s the plan when we reach them?”

I glance over my shoulder, meeting her gaze. The green and blue glow from the bioluminescent plants flickers across her face, illuminating her wide, wary eyes.

“That depends,” I murmur, my voice low. “On how many there are, and how badly they want to kill us.”

Silence stretches between us.

She knew this wouldn’t be easy. But knowing and understanding are two different things. And I don’t think she’s ready for what lies ahead.

5

Emily

By the timethe first light of dawn filters through the dense jungle canopy, my entire body feels like it’s been rattled loose from the ride. Dania moves with quiet grace, her hooves silent on the soft, mossy ground, but every jolt sends a fresh wave of pain through my legs and back. I cling tighter to Vrok. Each sway of the eponir is a harsh reminder of just how far out of my depth I am.

The scent of damp soil and rotting leaves wraps around us, mingling with a spicy scent that I quickly realize belongs to Vrok. It’s an intoxicating fragrance that reminds me of cinnamon and evergreen, like Christmas morning wrapped in leather and steel.

It clings to him, teasing my senses with every breath, making it harder to focus. My fingers twitch against his torso and the hard ridges of muscle beneath my hands. He’s the embodiment of strength and completely at ease in this untamed world while I feel like I’m barely holding on.

A shiver works its way up my spine, though I can’t tell if it’s from the humidity or the crushing weight of what I’ve done. What was I thinking? I’m not ready for this.

But I shove that thought down into the depths of my mind. There’s no room for doubt now. I’ve come too far and risked too much. I’ll keep going, no matter how scared I am, and I’ll do it for Lily.

I lose track of time as we ride, while the jungle blurs into a constant tangle of green and shadows. The sun has long since climbed overhead when Vrok finally slows Dania to a halt.

“We’ll stop here,” he mutters as he dismounts with practiced ease. “The eponir needs water, and we need to rest.”

Before he can reach up to help me, I slide off Dania’s back with far less grace, landing heavily on my feet. My knees nearly buckle, and every muscle in my body screams in protest. A strangled sound escapes me before I can stop it, and Vrok’s head snaps toward me.

He doesn’t comment, but there’s something in his silver gaze—amusement, maybe? Pity? I don’t know because he is so hard to read. Either way, I ignore it and swallow down my pride as I stumble toward a nearby tree for support.

Vrok leads Dania to a shallow stream, moving with quiet efficiency. His muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin as he loosens the saddle, letting her drink her fill. Then, he kneels beside her, cupping water in his hands and splashing it along her neck. His touch is unexpectantly gentle as he strokes her damp fur, murmuring something low and quiet that I can’t quite hear. The tenderness in his movements catches me off guard.

I cross my arms, pretending not to notice the way my pulse spikes as I watch him. “Don’t you ever get tired?” I ask, more sharply than I mean to.

He doesn’t look up. “No.”

I bite back a retort, already too exhausted to argue. Instead, I take the waterskin he tosses my way and drink deeply, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. To the left, the shrill call of a bird sounds out, and I snap my head around.

“You’re nervous,” Vrok says as he stands to adjust the saddle on Dania’s broad back.

“I’m not used to any of this,” I admit. My fists ball up as I scan the dense jungle around us, expecting something, anything, to leap out at any second.

Vrok snorts. “You humans are soft.” He tilts his head, his cold gaze flicking up to meet mine. “Is this planet really that much deadlier than your own?”

“Yes—” I start, then pause. I think of all the murders and disappearances back on Earth, the ones Mara, our resident true crime afficionado, rattles off like they’re bedtime stories. “In some ways, yes. In other ways, definitely not.”

His brow ridge furrows. “What do you mean?”

I shift, rubbing a hand over my aching thigh. “On Earth, we don’t really have to worry about many wild animals. Humans are at the top of the food chain. There’s nothing out there hunting us. Well, except other humans. The real predators are other people. We have wars, violence, abuse, murder.”

Vrok’s expression darkens. “You kill each other? Even though you are the same species? Why?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not like here, where survival feels almost pure. Back home, people hurt each other over things like money or power or sometimes, just because they can.”

His lips press into a grim line as he absorbs my words. “Your world sounds broken,” he says softly. His tone is more thoughtful than I expected. “Here, death usually has a purpose. A predator kills to eat, to survive. A warrior kills to defend the tribe. There’s no malice in it, no greed. Not like with humans.”

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