Page 28 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

A few hours ago, I would’ve welcomed it without hesitation. Now, dread coils in my gut.

Dania shifts beneath me, her ears flicking back. Evenshesenses something now. My breath grows shallow, and the pounding of rain fades beneath the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

Vrok halts at the rock face, crouching low just under the overhang where the ground is drier. His fingers trace over something in the thick soil. I can’t see what he’s looking at, but I can see the way his shoulders stiffen.

Shit, this isn’t good.

Then, he rises and soundlessly pulls out his sword, holding it steady by his side. He turns in a circle as he slowly scans the tree line, every sense on high alert. Then, with one last look beneath the ledge, he turns away and strides back to me, moving over the wet ground at a fast clip.

My stomach tightens. “What is it?” I ask when he nears.

He doesn’t answer until he’s mounted behind me again, one hand holding the reins steady as Dania shifts uneasily beneath us.

“Tracks,” he says at last. “From the Pugj. And others.”

I twist to look at him. “Others?”

“There are boot prints among the tracks. Most likely from Tussoll warriors.”

My eyes widen in alarm. “Do you think they’re still here?” I ask before glancing around nervously.

He shakes his head. “They aren’t, but they were here recently. They probably took shelter from the storm, then decided to move on.”

“How can you be sure?”

He takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring wide again. His lip curls up in disgust. “Because the stench of the Pugj hasn’t faded completely, but it’s not fresh.”

Ah, that’s right. The Pugj emit a noxious odor the Laediriians compare to a bitter, rotting odor that disgusts them. I’ve never personally smelled it, and I’m not sure if humans even can.

“They can’t have gone far,” he mutters. His gaze sweeps over the jungle one last time. “It’s not safe here. We need to keep moving. Hold on.” Vrok urges Dania forward, veering off the path we’d been following as we plunge deeper into the jungle.

The rain continues to fall in a steady curtain, soaking everything and turning the air hazy. I have to squint through the droplets just to see ahead. We ride in silence for a time. The world narrows down to the pounding of Dania’s hooves, the beating of rain falling to the ground, and the frantic hammering of my heart. My mind races, replaying his words over and over.

When I first heard the stories about the tribe’s enemies, the Pugj, I dismissed it as just talk. Stories to make the enemy sound more monstrous. It’s a common tactic on Earth. But I’ve seen the scars on the warriors. I’ve heard the trembling in the elders’ voices as they’ve recounted stories of males who vanished and never returned. And even more terrifying, males who escaped and did return to the tribe, only to be further tortured by their memories.

“Do you think they’re following us?” I finally ask.

“They could be,” Vrok admits, his voice grim. “But if they are, they’re not going to catch us.”

I nod, although his words do little to ease the gnawing anxiety that has settled in the pit of my stomach.

As we ride through the jungle, the terrain begins to shift, becoming rockier beneath Dania’s hooves, and I can tell we’re ascending a long, winding slope. Rain pools in every dip and crevice, turning the ground into a slick mess of mud and rotting leaves.

Vrok slows our pace as he scans the area around us like a predator sniffing out a threat.

“There,” he says, pointing to a narrow ledge half-hidden by a tangle of vines. “That should give us a better vantage point so we can see if they’re tracking us.”

He dismounts before helping me down. The climb to the edge is steep and slippery, and the rain turns the moss-covered rocks slick and treacherous. Vrok moves with the sure-footedness of someone who’s done this a thousand times before.

I’m not so lucky. My boots slide more than once on the already treacherous path.

“Careful,” he murmurs as he catches me when I stumble.

His large hand engulfs mine. The warmth of his grip is a stark contrast to the chill of the rain falling down around us. When I think he’ll release me, he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps my hand tucked securely in his grip as we slowly move to the edge of the rocky outcropping.

We finally reach the edge, and my breath catches in my throat at the sheer beauty of the jungle sprawled out below us in a sea of greens and blues, shrouded in mist and driving rain. It’s beautiful, wild, and untouched. And I feel smaller than ever, like prey on the run.

For one blessed moment, I think we’re safe, and I almost let out a sigh of relief, but then Vrok’s muscles tense up and his eyes narrow as he stares into the distance.

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