Page 24 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

“Why are you doing this?”

I blink, caught off guard by the question. “Doing what?”

He gestures to the jungle around us. “Coming out here and risking your life. Why?”

I hesitate. My fingers tighten around the waterskin. “Because I have to,” I say simply.

Because it’s the truth. There’s no way I could just sit idly by in that nice, safe village while Lily is out here, alone and scared. That’s not an option. It never was.

He frowns like that wasn’t the answer he expected. “No, you don’t. You could have stayed behind in the village.”

A bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Sure, I could have stayed, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did that.” I shake my head before my eyes drop to the waterskin in my hands. “Lily’s not just my cousin. She’s like my sister and best friend.” I take a deep breath. “She’s the only family I have left. I love her.”

His eyes narrow on me with something that looks like suspicion or maybe disbelief. “Love,” he spits out the word like it’s a foreign concept he’s never heard of.

“Yes,love. You don’t leave someone you love behind. You don’t abandon them. Not if there’s the slightest chance of helping them.”

“You would risk your life for her?” His brow rises in question.

“Of course I would.” The answer slips out so easily it surprises even me. “And she’d do the same for me. That’s what love is. It’s not just pretty words and warm fuzzy feelings. It’s showing up. Over and over, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

Silence falls over us, and he studies me for a while, as if he’s trying to find some flaw in my words. Trying to poke holes in something he doesn’t quite understand. Finally, he swallows, and when he speaks his voice is so soft I have to strain to hear him.

“You humans feel so deeply.” He shakes his head like he’s not sure if that’s admirable or really dumb. Knowing Vrok, probably the latter.

I snort softly, a crooked smile tugging at my lips. “What, are you saying Laediriians don’t? Have you seen Haley and Draggar together?”

I hold my breath when his lips twitch as if he’s finally about to smile, but then he stops himself. “I didn’t say we don’t feel love. But…” His throat bobs as he swallows hard, and then his eyes drop to the ground. “Love wasn’t something that was spoken of when I was a kitling.”

His voice is so flat, it’s almost hollow, like it’s been scraped clean of any emotions. And just like that, it clicks. He’s not tightly controlled and stoic because he’s a warrior. No, it’s because he’s erected a giant shell around himself to lock down his emotions. He’s probably had years of practice pretending nothing touches him.

God, that explains so much.

I sit there for a moment, frozen with indecision. My instincts are shouting that his father is probably a sore subject because of course, he is. I mean, dear old dad disappeared from the village, leaving him behind to take the fall by himself.

Finally, I clear my throat and decide to just take the plunge and ask. “Did your father show it? Even if he didn’t say it?”

Vrok looks up. Our eyes meet, and for a split second, I see the sadness flickering in his eyes like a candle.

Then he blinks, and it’s gone, like it never existed.

“Perhaps, in the beginning, when I was a very young kitling.” He exhales slowly. His head tilts to the side, and his gaze turns distant, as if he’s looking into the past. “My father always wanted to be the best, have the best, but it was never enough for him. He hungered for more, and when he failed to reach his goals himself, he decided I would.”

I lean in a little bit. “What do you mean?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “He was one of the finest warriors in the village when he was younger. When the old chief died, he believed he deserved to be chosen as the new leader. But when Daggir was chosen instead, he was furious. He wanted to be more than just a warrior in the tribe. He wanted a title and power. So, he declared himself the tribe’s seer and claimed to have visions of the future—visions ofmebecoming chief one day. He said it was fate.”

“Did you want to become the chief?”

Vrok’s eyes snap back to me. “No,” he says firmly. “I only ever wanted to serve as a warrior. To protect my people. That has always been enough for me.”

A bitter edge creeps into his voice. Not toward me, but toward the memory that’s playing out in his head. “But my father would not hear of it. He pushed and pushed, training me, shaping my life to fit his visions. He said it was all for the good of the tribe, but it wasn’t.” His tone turns colder. “It was for him. His pride. His legacy.”

Fuck, that hits close to home.I know what it’s like to have a father who demanded I act a certain way,bea certain way. And when I fell short of his expectations—and I always did—he made sure I knew exactly how much of a failure I was.

“That sounds suffocating,” I say quietly.

“It was,” he admits. His voice is so quiet, now, it’s almost as if he’s speaking to himself instead of me. “When I didn’t meet his expectations, the distance grew. The training became harsher, more punishing. He spoke of loyalty, not to the tribe, but tohim. I began to wonder if I was nothing more than a tool to him. A means to fulfill his so-called visions.”

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