Page 35 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

“There,” she says, tying off the end. “That should hold for now.”

I sit up slowly, testing the tightness of the wrap. It holds.

Emily meets my gaze, and neither of us looks away immediately.

“You don’t have to be tough all the time, Vrok. Believe it or not, I can take care of you, too,” she says softly.

Her words hit me like a blow. They’re not painful, just unexpected. I’ve spent so long being the protector, the hardened warrior who doesn’t flinch, doesn’t fall. The one who bleeds in silence, so others don’t have to. It’s my role in life, the only thing I’m good for, according to my father.

I wasn’t raised to be protected. To be cared for. And certainly not to feel this strange, aching warmth that spreads from where her hands just were and lodges itself in my chest.

But hearing her say that—I can take care of you—makes something shift deep inside me. I don’t know how to respond or what to say, so I don’t.

I nod toward the corner of the cave. “Rest. We’ll need to move again soon.” My voice comes out rougher than before, like the sound of stones being dragged over gravel.

Her mouth opens and she hesitates as if she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t. She gives me a small smile and moves a few paces away.

But no matter the distance between us, I can still feel the touch of her soft hands on my skin. The warmth of her pressed against me. The way she looked at me, like I wasn’t a burden. Like I was worth saving. Worth caring for.

I watch as she curls up, pillowing her head on her stacked hands. Her damp clothes cling to every curve of her body, adding to the heat already pulsing inside me. Even now, exhausted and bedraggled, she captivates me.

It’s not long before the soft rhythm of her breathing blends with the rain still falling outside. She looks breakable lying there, curled up so small. But I know better.

There’s an unexpected quiet strength in Emily. It’s not the kind that charges into battle, but the kind that stays standing long after everyone else would have fallen. She should be the one leaning on others, yet she’s the one offering comfort. Even to me.

Emily didn’t hesitate to charge into danger when the magnis attacked. She didn’t flinch at the blood staining my skin or my wound. She met it all with quiet tenacity. When she looked at me, she saw more than the blade I wield or the blood I’ve spilled. And none of that aligns with the poison he’s been feeding me since the humans fell from the sky.

It unsettles me.

Because I’ve spent my entire life believing that strength meant being unbending. That softness was a weakness to be rooted out. That compassion would be our downfall. But then Emily came along and turned those beliefs to ash with nothing more than her presence.

She’s human. She’s not supposed to matter to me.

But she does.

Because when she’s near, everything else fades into the background. My pain, my doubts, even the noise of my father’s voice in my head—it all gets quieter. I shouldn’t want that, but I do.

Yes, Emily is soft where I’m hard and gentle where I’m brutal, but still, somehow, she’s the one who makes me feel safe.

And she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing to me. The way her presence pulls apart the foundation I’ve been standing on. The way she makes me question everything I thought I knew. And in this quiet moment, as I watch over her while she sleeps, I’m left with a truth I can’t ignore.

She’s not mine, and she never will be. But by the goddesses, if anyone tries to take her from me again, they’ll learn exactly how deadly I can be.

11

Emily

I joltawake to the sound of a low, almost animalistic sound that echoes through the cave.

At first, I think I imagined it, but then it comes again. Softer this time, but full of pain. It’s the kind of sound that makes your blood run cold. My eyes snap open, and I sit up, peering through the dim shadows of the cave.

Vrok lies a few feet away. His massive frame is outlined by the faint glow of the vines that cover the cave entrance. Something’s wrong. Instead of sleeping peacefully, his big body moves restlessly, his chest rising and falling in short, ragged breaths.

“Vrok?” I whisper.

There’s no answer.

I scramble to his side, my hands already reaching for him. Before my fingers even touch him, I can feel the heat radiating from him. A faint tremor runs through his muscles, and up close, I can see that his coloring is off. Instead of the vibrant teal, his skin looks pale with a grayish tint.

---