Page 27 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

This is fine. Totally fine. I can deal with it.

I can deal with storms. I can even deal with strange planets. And I candefinitelydeal with being wrapped in the arms of a big, brooding male whose mouth and hands just starred in the hottest dream I’ve ever had.

Totally fine.

Vrok shifts behind me, and then that rough, gravelly voice of his cuts through the air. “Hold on.”

I react before I even think about it, and grab onto the saddle, bracing myself.

With a soft nudge to Dania’s sides, we’re off, and the jungle becomes a blur as she picks her way swiftly through the underbrush. The ride is surprisingly smooth, and for a while, I let myself hope. We’re moving fast. That has to count for something. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll still be able to outrun the storm and make it to the anurois’ nest grounds today.

But after a while it becomes apparent that no matter how fast Dania moves, we aren’t going to be able to leave the storm behind. The first raindrops fall, light and sporadic at first, but they grow heavier until the rain comes down in a steady downpour. Then worse.

The sky above us turns to a deep, menacing gray with clouds so thick and bloated, they churn with a sickly greenish tint around the edges. They hang low over the canopy, pressing down and smothering the light. The jungle is cast into an eerie twilight that feels unnatural for the hour. The sun has disappeared behind them, leaving the world dim and tense.

The usual sounds, the chirps of liseks and the buzz of insects, have vanished, like someone flipped a switch. All I can hear now is the steady thud of Dania’s hooves against the sodden ground and the relentless drum of rain as it crashes down through thetrees. The trees above don’t offer any real protection. The rain is simply falling too hard, too fast, pelting through the leaves overhead and soaking straight through my clothes.

My dress clings to me like a second skin, and my hair sticks to my face in limp strands. I push it out of my eyes and squint into the rain as Dania weaves expertly through the trees. Vrok shifts behind me, tightening his grip on the reins, and I glance back at him. He’s stone-faced, and his eyes are locked straight ahead.

A jagged streak of lightning splits the sky above, lighting the jungle up in a silver-blue flash. Seconds later, a deafening clap of thunder crashes overhead, loud enough to rattle my bones. Dania huffs out a snort, but she keeps going.

“Are you alright?” Vrok asks. He’s close enough I can feel the warm puff of his breath against my ear.

“I’m fine,” I reply automatically, even though my fingers dig into the saddle tighter as Dania slows and her steps grow more careful on the slick ground.

He doesn’t comment, but I can feel the weight of his gaze on me.

We ride for what feels like miles, with Dania’s hooves squelching in the mud, her steady gait the only constant in the chaos of the storm. Rain lashes down in sheets now, soaking me to the bone and blurring the world into smears of green and gray. My arms are numb, my hands ache from clinging to the saddle, and my teeth are starting to chatter. I can’t tell if it’s from cold or nerves. Maybe both.

My thoughts are beginning to spiral when Vrok suddenly leans forward.

“Up ahead. We’ll take shelter there.”

I follow his gaze and feel a breath of relief flutter through me. A sheer wall of stone rises from the jungle floor. Moss creeps along its base, and vines hang down in thick curtains. There’s a narrow ledge that juts outward about halfway up, forming anoverhang that looks just wide enough to keep the rain off if we press close to the rock.

It’s not much, but it’s something.

But as Dania picks her way closer, something shifts.

It’s not the jungle that changes, it’s Vrok.

One moment, his body is relaxed behind me. The next, he goes completely still. No, not just still, but rigid. Every muscle tightens like a taut wire ready to snap. I feel it through my back and thighs, and through the arms that loop around me and handle the reins.

“Wait,” he says sharply, pulling Dania to a sudden halt.

“What is it?” I ask, my voice nearly drowned by the steady downpour. I twist to look back at him, but I already know the answer won’t be good.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t blink. Just lifts his head and inhales deeply. His nostrils flare wide, and I see the shift in his eyes as they narrow. He smells something.

Whatever he’s picked up on, it’s enough to make every part of him coil like a spring.

Then, in one fluid motion, he dismounts and lands silently on the sodden ground. One hand is resting on Dania’s neck, and the other goes to the hilt of his blade.

“Stay here,” he murmurs. The command is quiet but firm.

“Vrok—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off with a look.

I bite my lip and nod, my fingers digging into the wet leather of the saddle. I watch him as he moves steadily across the ground toward the cliff face that rises out of the jungle. It’s jagged face glistens with rain. The rocky overhang I noticed looms above, still promising shelter. But now, it looks less like a refuge and more like a trap.

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