Page 39 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

A cold sweat breaks over my brow, and I scramble to my feet too fast, catching myself on the wall with a hiss. Dread claws atmy chest and my heart beats a frantic rhythm in my ears. My vision narrows, then darkens at the edges.

“Emily?” My voice is little more than a rasp, worn ragged by the sickness that’s held me in its grip.

No answer.

The silence seems heavier now, more ominous. I stare at the mouth of the cave, bile rising in my throat until it threatens to choke me.

Did someone take her? The Pugj? Or a sarding Tussoll? Did she leave me here?

No, I immediately discard that possibility. Emily is nothing if not loyal and caring. She wouldn’t. But could she have wandered out into the jungle for some reason and run afoul of one of the beasts on Laedirissae?

Foolish human. Brave, infuriating, precious?—

I stagger to the entrance, gripping the stone for balance as sunlight spills in, blinding me. The jungle beyond still glistens with condensation from the storm. Droplets fall from the leaves in a soft, uneven patter. The air smells clean and fresh as if the storm has washed the world of all its grime and blood, but I know better.

And yet, there’s no sign of Emily. No soft, lyrical voice or sweet, intoxicating scent. No rustle of movement or gentle touch. Just silence. Cold and echoing silence. And the sharp pang of fear twisting in my gut.

She wouldn’t have left me. At least, not without a good reason.

Just as I’m about to step outside to search for her, a flicker of movement at the edge of my vision stops me. Instinct takes over and my hand drops to one of the knives that even now are still strapped to me. My muscles tense, ready to react, until she steps into view.

Emily.

Relief crashes into me like a wave breaking against the rocks, and I sag back against the wall.

Her braid has come loose, and damp strands of her long, golden hair cling to her face. She hasn’t seen me, yet, her focus is on the ground in front of her as she carefully picks her way over the wet ground. Her hands are cupped, cradling something I can’t see.

“Where—” My voice is harsher than I intend. I stop, forcing myself to take a steadying breath before I try again. “Where have you been?”

Emily lifts her head, blinking up at me. For a heartbeat, guilt flashes across her features before she shakes her head and it disappears. “I went to get us something to eat.”

She holds out her hands revealing the berries she’s gathered. They’re a deep, glistening purple, and their scent reaches me even from a distance making my mouth water. Bilb berries. They’re plump with a juicy sweetness that will provide us a much-needed boost of energy.

Still, the image of her venturing into the wild of the jungle alone?—

“You shouldn’t have gone by yourself,” I say, unable to keep the edge from creeping back into my voice this time.

A knot forms in my chest. The thought of her out there, vulnerable, while I lay helpless and useless gnaws at a deep, primal part of me. The need to protect. To claim. To never let her out of my sight again. But I don’t want to acknowledge it, yet. Maybe not ever.

Emily stiffens and her chin lifts in a stubborn jut. “You were in no condition to go, and we needed food.” She steps past me into the cave before kneeling to set the berries on a flat rock. Glancing back at me, she insists, “I was careful.”

“Careful isn’t always enough,” I mutter, more to myself than to her. Sick dread still curls in my gut as I think of what could have happened to her.

Her gaze softens slightly. “I’m fine, Vrok,” she says gently, pulling the tin of salixa gel from one of the satchels. “And so are you. Thanks to this.”

The words strike something raw in me. She’s right. I should be the one protecting her, not the other way around. And yet… Here I stand, alive because of her. Gratitude wells up inside me. It’s an emotion I’m not accustomed to feeling.

“Thank you.” The words feel strange coming out of my mouth, but I know they’re not enough. Not for everything she did for me, but I force them out regardless.

She blinks at me, clearly surprised. Then her features soften even more into something warmer. She sinks down to sit cross-legged across from me.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she murmurs. “I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“No,” I say, meeting her gaze. “But you didn’t have to do all that you did, either.”

Her lips curve in a faint smile and my eyes are drawn to them before I can stop myself. “Maybe not, but I wanted to.”

The sincerity in her voice slides beneath the armor I’ve carried around with me, hitting a place I thought long since hardened. My chest tightens. Not from the lingering effects of the poison, but something else. Something worse. Or maybe better. I don’t know anymore.

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