Page 31 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

Together, we stumble into the jungle, each step slow and clumsy as he matches his pace to my slower one. The thick undergrowth closes around us like a green, dripping curtain as we leave the river, and the danger trailing us, behind.

We’re safe. For now.

9

Mara

A heavy cloudhas hung over us ever since Emily disappeared. My friends try to act normal, but I see the worry in their eyes. Conversations don’t last as long, laughter is scarce, and every time someone approaches, we flinch, as if we’re expecting bad news.

None of us know what happened that night, not really. All we do know is that Emily is missing, and so is Vrok. And given what we know of him and the way he looks at us like we’re disposable, it’s hard not to assume the worst.

We should be talking about Emily, about what we’re doing to find her. But instead, the conversation tonight has shifted to something else entirely.

“I’m just saying,” Isabella says, while taking a seat at the long wooden table, “why not send someone to at least ask?”

Enosir’s head pops up. “Ask what?”

He’s the youngest warrior in the tribe, and he exudes the restless energy of someone with something to prove. He onlyearned the title of warrior recently, after passing a trial not long before we crashed here.

I glance at Haley, who’s sitting beside Draggar. The expression on her face is cautious and hopeful. We all know where this is going. We’ve been talking about this among ourselves ever since Isabella and I got back from the mission to find the other humans who crashed on Laedirissae. And each day we hesitate, it feels more and more like we’re sitting on a ticking time bomb.

“To ask the other tribes if they’ll be our allies against the Pugj,” Isabella explains.

The table falls silent. It’s not the usual kind of silence—the bemused kind whenever we say or do something the Laediriians don’t understand.

This is heavy and charged with tension. Some of the gathered warriors pause mid-bite, others exchange wary glances. Even the elders at the far end of the table stop in the middle of their discussion about various tracking techniques and stare at us.

Enosir gapes at her like she’s grown a second head. “You want us to march up to the Icerii or the Silare and just… ask?”

“Yes,” Isabella says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it is. To us.

More awkward silence follows until finally, Sorrin releases a snort. “That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

I nudge him in the side with my elbow and give him my best shut-up-before-you-blow-it look.

But he glances down at me with a unrepentant grin spread across his handsome face. “Well, it is.”

Morgan, one of the new girls, quirks a brow from her spot beside Isabella. “Is it?”

Sorrin gestures broadly, as if the answer is obvious. “The Icerii are as ruthless as they are unpredictable, and the Silarelive in some of the most treacherous terrain on the continent. Neither are the kind to make friends.”

Draggar nods along before leaning forward. “The Anuriix have long survived without alliances, and there is no guarantee any of these tribes would even agree to meet with us.”

Morgan shrugs. “Maybe, but we’ll never know unless we try.”

It’s clear from their expressions that the warriors are resistant. This isn’t how they do things, but the way they’ve been doing things so far has resulted in them only surviving. With the threat of war creeping closer every damn day that passes, surviving isn’t enough anymore.

I take a piece of flatbread from the platter being passed around and put it on my plate before clearing my throat. “Morgan’s right. If the other tribes knew about the Pugj’s plans, they might be willing to listen. And if not…” I tear off a bite of warm, crispy bread and pop it into my mouth, chewing slowly. “Then we move on.”

A deep sigh comes from the head of the table where the chief of the tribe sits. The firelight casts shadows across Daggir’s weathered face as he leans forward, bracing his forearms against the table. His gaze sweeps over us.

Finally, he speaks, “You are asking me to risk warriors. To send them into territories where they may be slaughtered on sight for the possibility of aid.”

He’s not being dramatic. Just honest. Laedirissae is breathtaking. It’s wild and otherworldly in its beauty, but it’s a planet that straddles the line between ancient and futuristic. And its beauty is the kind that comes with claws. Sometimes literally.

It tests you, pushes you to the edge, and in doing so, it draws out strengths you didn’t know you had.

And the people who call it home? They’re no different. They’re proud and fierce and loyal to their core. This tribewelcomed us with open arms. They’ve fed us, clothed us, fought for us, and accepted us as members of the tribe. But they’re also resistant to change. To anything that threatens the fragile balance they’ve fought to keep.

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