Page 60 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

“It’s not so bad when you’re starving, hmm?”

I roll my eyes but take another bite. “Still not a fan, but I’ll admit, this batch is better than what I’ve had before.”

“Treated properly, dicro meat is quite good. Most of you humans just haven’t had it prepared the right way,” he says.

I arch a brow in question. “And you’re an expert, now?”

He leans back against the cave wall, stretching his long legs out in front of him, and I realize this is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. “When I was a youngling, the tribes would gather and hold competitions. I always won the dicro smoking contest.”

I blink. “You’re serious?”

Oh. My. God.Aliens have cooking contests. I mean, yeah, weapons, war, and all the usual survival stuff is a given, but I wasn’t exactly expectingThe Great Alien Cook Off. Like some intergalactic version ofBake Off,but with dicro meat and fire pits instead of shortbread and soggy bottoms.

His eyes glint teasingly in the dim light of the cave. “Would I jest about something so important?” The corners of his lips twitch upward with just the barest hint of amusement, but I go still, barely breathing.

Why do I want to see him smile so bad?Every time his lips so much as move, I find myself hoping it will finally happen. A real smile. One that stretches from ear to ear and reaches his eyes. One he doesn’t try to hide under all that stoicism and brooding.

But it doesn’t come. Not yet.

“The secret is in the seasoning.” He says it like he’s imparting some sacred wisdom. I half expect him to glance over his shoulder like someone might be lurking in the shadows just waiting to steal his secret recipe. “I use the skin from casae tubers. When they’re dried and ground to a powder, and mixed with nectar from the marcas flower, it adds a sweet and spicy flavor to the meat.”

I don’t know why that makes me want to laugh. Maybe it’s because the image of this male—this battle-worn, gruff, brooding guy—carefully seasoning meat by a fire like it’s an art form is unexpected. But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. He takes everything seriously. Of course, he’d treat cooking like a battlefield to conquer.

I want to ask more. I want to keep peeling back the layers, but before I can speak, his nostrils flare and his brow ridge furrows.

“Do you smell that?”

I pause mid-bite and inhale deeply, but all I smell is the stale air of the cave. “Um… no.”

Vrok rises in one fluid motion and turns to me. “Follow me. I have a surprise for you.”

18

Emily

I blink up at him. A surprise? Here? I glance around the cave in confusion. My whole body aches, but curiosity edges out the exhaustion, and I push myself to my feet.

At the back of the chamber, partially hidden behind a massive boulder, is a narrow passageway I hadn’t noticed before. The opening looks more like a shadow than an actual path, with the moss on the walls giving off only the faintest glow here.

Vrok steps into it without hesitation, ducking beneath a low outcropping of rock, and I follow close behind. The ceiling is just high enough that he doesn’t have to bend over, but it still makes me feel like the stone walls are pressing in on all sides.

The narrow tunnel forces us to walk single file, and with Vrok ahead of me, his broad frame blocks most of my view. There’s less moss here than in the outer chamber, and what little light there is paints him in shifting splashes of silvery blue. My gaze roves over his shoulders, watching the thick cords of muscle ripple beneath his skin as he moves.

His back is hypnotic. The way it flexes and the slow sway of his hips with every step he takes. I probably shouldn’t be staring at him like this, and yet, I can’t pull my gaze away.

He glances back every so often to check on me, and each time those silver eyes catch the faint light, my breath hitches. A low, simmering warmth settles in the center of my chest.

I wonder what he’d do if I leaned in and licked him right there?Just a single, slow swipe of my tongue along the dip of his spine. Would he freeze? Growl in that way that makes my knees go weak? Grab me and pin me to the wall?

A flush rises beneath my skin at the thought. I force my gaze to the rock wall beside me, but it doesn’t help. Not with the way the temperature in the tunnel seems to be rising with every step we take as we move deeper. My shirt sticks to my back and the stale air deep in the cave takes on a faintly metallic tang.

We walk for what feels like forever as we move deeper into the cave. Only the soft scrape of our boots and the occasional drip of water break the quiet. Just when I start to wonder if the tunnel will ever end, we round a bend and the passage widens. A flickering green and blue glow spills out ahead of us, outlining Vrok’s silhouette like some mythical warrior pulled from a fantasy novel. The stone walls curve into graceful arches, sweeping high above our heads.

I slow my steps and glance up. The ceiling stretches higher and higher. And then, we step into another chamber, and my breath catches in my throat.

Towering walls stretch up toward a domed ceiling where thick stalactites hang like jagged stone icicles, glittering faintly in the glow. Stalagmites rise from the floor like petrified spires, some of them fused with the formations above into massive stone columns. Clusters of translucent crystals jut from the rock at odd angles, reflecting the light and scattering it across the walls like starlight.

Nestled in the center of the cavern is a shimmering pool of water. Its surface ripples gently, fed by a natural spring that bubbles unseen beneath it. Steam rises from the water in long, curling tendrils, drifting lazily upward. The glow I saw comes from algae that clings to the walls of the pool and the rocks, throwing off a bright otherworldly light that illuminates the space. The whole space feels almost sacred in its beauty.

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