Page 67 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

We move swiftlythrough the jungle. The air is thick with the damp weight of morning, and the humidity clings to my skin, heavy and oppressive. Emily walks beside me, quiet but determined. Her steps are steady and confident despite the rough terrain, and I can’t help but feel a surge of pride at how much she’s grown in her jungle skills.

I keep my senses sharp, scanning for any sign of the Tussoll or the Pugj. We’re still deep in enemy territory, and every moment here is a risk. But no matter how hard I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting back to this morning. And to her.

To the way she woke up in my arms, soft and warm, her lips curving into a sleepy smile the instant our eyes met. She looked completely unburdened, as if the weight she always seems to carry was gone and she was at peace.

Then she kissed me while her hands glided over my skin. I couldn’t resist claiming her again.

Even now, with danger lurking ahead, my cock twitches at the memory of her touch, her taste, and the way she responded to me like an out-of-control fire.

The awareness between us simmers low and steady. It’s there in the brush of her hand against mine, in the way her gaze lingers like she’s remembering the way I touched her, and in the flush that stains her cheeks. It burns inside me, drawing me to her, and it takes everything in me not to pull her close. Not to give in and give us both what we crave.

But I don’t. Because I know what’s waiting for us.

We reach a small clearing, and something catches my eye in the soil. I crouch low, studying the ground. The tracks are faint but still visible—heavy boots pressed deep into the dirt, clawed feet overlapping them, and in the middle of it all, the unmistakable drag marks of someone smaller being pulled against their will.

Emily kneels beside me, silent and watchful. I don’t have to look at her to feel the storm of emotion coming off her in waves. She sees what I see. Lily fought them. Hard.

The tracks tell a violent story.

A few paces away, there’s a flurry of smaller prints, light and erratic, darting off to the left, as if Lily tried to escape. But the tracks don’t go very far before they’re swallowed by the larger bootprints, closing in fast.

The chase was short and brutal. Her tracks end in a shallow skid, and there’s a depression where she must have been slammed into the ground. Then come the bootprints again, planted firmly on either side of the depression. Clawed feet overlap them. And between it all, more drag marks, carving a jagged path through the dirt.

Lily fought them with everything she had.

I scan the clearing, my eyes sweeping over a large, flattened patch of grass nearby. The ground still bears the faint impressions of bodies, indicating the males stopped here to rest.

Just beyond that, something catches my eye. A coiled length of rope made from twisted vines, half-hidden beneath the underbrush. I step closer, brushing aside a few low branches. One end is knotted tightly around the base of a tree. The other end lies loose in the dirt, its fibers frayed and stained with dark flecks of dried blood—evidence it was cinched too tight around delicate human skin.

Beside me, Emily reaches out to run her fingers over the rope. “She was here,” she whispers.

I nod. “She fought them, and then they tied her up while they rested,” I murmur. My voice is tight with fury.

Her throat bobs as she swallows before her gaze drifts to the trees around us. For a long moment, she says nothing.

When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet. “Lily’s tough. Always has been.” She pauses, blinking hard. “Not many people see how soft she is underneath. We’re more alike than she’d ever admit.”

I can’t hold back any longer, so I reach for her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into me. Emily buries her face against my chest and clings to me like I’m the only solid thing left in the world.

A cold, bitter frustration coils tight in my gut. I’m more certain than ever they’re taking her to the Tussoll village. Like most Laediriian strongholds, it’s built like a fortress and surrounded by a towering wall of cupressi wood. Getting Lily out of there without being discovered will be nearly impossible.

But I don’t care. I’m going to do it anyway.

Slowly, Emily pulls back. Tears shimmer on her lashes, and the sight of them slices straight through me. I wish I could take her pain into my own chest and carry it for her.

“We’ll find her,” I say softly. “We’ll get her back. I promise you.”

She nods, sniffling hard. Her hands tremble where they rest on my arms, before her jaw firms and her shoulders square with resolve. “Then let’s do it.”

We leave the clearing behind and press on. Emily moves with fierce new determination, refusing to stop, even for a moment to rest. Her pace is relentless, as if sheer willpower could somehow undo what’s already been done.

I keep close to her, watching her out of the corner of my eye and noting the tension in every step she takes. Before long, the sun dips low, casting slanting shadows across the jungle floor.

And then, through the thinning trees, I see it.

Tall, wooden walls rise from the ground like the ribs of a magnis. Smoke curls above them in a lazy spiral, rising up to the sky above.

The Tussoll village.

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