Page 56 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

My instincts scream at me to stay with her. To protect her. To lay her down, press my body against hers, and claim her. But I can’t.

Instead, with one last look at her hiding place, I turn and begin the climb.

The ascent is brutal. My boots scrape against the rough stone as my fingers find small cracks and ledges slick with damp, slimy moss that clings to the rock. But I push on. There’s a strange energy flowing through my veins powering me, giving me strength, and it urges me upward. I don’t question it. I don’t have time to.

Finally, I reach the first ledge with nests, and breathing hard, I pull myself onto it. The full stench of the nesting grounds hits me. It’s a sharp, sour mix of rotting meat, damp feathers, and dried excrement. It smells like death.

Crouching low, I scan the nests. They’re massive and woven from thick, tangled branches, tufts of dried grass, bones, and scraps of leathery hide from anurois from the anurois’ own fallen. Most look to be empty, but I move to the closest one anyway, my heart pounding like a drum in my ears.

Let her be alive. For Emily’s sake.

I reach the edge and peer inside. At first, all I see are two large, bright blue eggs nestled securely in the center of the nest. But then my gaze catches on something else.

Caught between a mess of tangled sticks is a torn scrap of fabric, stained with dirt and streaked with something dark. Something that looks a lot like blood.

My stomach tightens as I lift the fabric before turning it over in my hands. The material is a vibrant purple and finely woven. It’s unlike anything my people wear, and it looks similar to the clothing the females wore when they first arrived in the village. I bring it to my nose. A faint but unmistakable scent lingers on it. It’s soft and familiar, like the fragrance that clings to the humans.

Recognition settles in my chest like a heavy stone. This was Lily’s.

I grip the fabric tighter, forcing myself to take a deep breath. She washere. Days ago, judging by how faint her scent has become.

A rustling sound from below draws my attention. My head snaps down just in time to see Emily shift slightly from her hiding place, but she isn’t looking up at me. Her gaze is locked on something just beyond the rocks and her eyes are wide with shock.

I follow the direction of her gaze, and then I see them.

Footprints.

Even from this height, I can make out at least four distinct sets pressed into the soil. One set is small, while the others are much larger, driven deep into the dirt.

A fresh surge of dread rolls through me. I bite it back and begin to descend, moving fast and silent, urgency tightening every muscle in my body. When I drop to the ground, Emily is waiting for me. Her face is pale and drawn tight with fear and rage.

“She was here, wasn’t she? But she wasn’t alone,” she whispers.

My hands curl into fists as I crouch beside the tracks, my gaze sweeping over them now that I’m close enough to see every detail. The smaller set is uneven, like they were made by someone stumbling or being dragged away. The two sets of heavier prints beside them are deep, booted, and unmistakably Tussoll.

But it's the third set that sends a cold weight sinking into my gut. They’re broader and spaced unnaturally far apart. Each impression ends in deep gouges left by thick claws. The kind meant for ripping apart flesh.

Pugj.

The tracks lead away from the cliffs and straight into the jungle in the direction of the Tussoll village.

They took her.

A growl rumbles low in my chest. The Tussoll were already traitors to our people by aligning themselves with the Pugj. But this? Taking a helpless human female? I don’t know what they want with her, but it can’t be anything good.

I glance at Emily. She’s staring at the tracks, her eyes glossy but hard with determination. Her cousin was here just days ago. And now she’s gone.

I will not let her lose the only family she has left. Not like this. Not while I still draw breath. If they’ve already made it to theTussoll village, we may be too late, but I’ll burn the sarding place to the ground before I give up.

17

Emily

The weightof the silence presses in on me as I watch Vrok stand motionless, his gaze locked on the tracks in front of us. His usually sharp expression is unreadable, but I can feel the tension radiating off him like a storm about to break.

The reality of what we’re seeing slowly sinks in, tightening around my chest like a vise.

Lily’s alive, and the bad guys have her.

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