Page 76 of Tempted By the Alien Warrior

“Come on, Vrok,” I whisper to him. “Stay with me.”

The sudden sound of crashing through the trees jerks my head up. The scarred warrior bursts into the clearing, leading two eponirs behind him.

My breath hitches, and for a second, I feel like I might just collapse from the sheer, aching relief.

He takes one look at Vrok and doesn’t waste a second. “We need to get him to the Anuriix village. Now.”

Without hesitation, he lifts Vrok with ease and drapes his limp body over one of the eponirs. My stomach twists as Vrok’s head lolls. The warrior ties him to the saddle, securing him tightly before turning to me. “You’ll have to ride behind him and hold him steady.”

My hands are shaking as I climb up behind Vrok and wrap my arms around his torso to keep him upright. His body sags against mine, and I press my face against his hair. My tears soak into the soft strands.

The warrior helps Lily onto the other eponir, then swings up behind her and grabs the reins.

“We’ll need to move fast. Hold on tight,” he says, his voice tight with urgency, before he barks out a sharp command. The eponirs surge forward, their hooves pounding against the ground, with the scarred warrior taking the lead.

I tighten my grip around Vrok, cradling him close as the powerful animal races swiftly through the jungle. My chest presses against his broad back and my arms are wrapped firmly around his waist. He’s terrifyingly still with his head lolling weakly on my shoulder, like he’s halfway gone already.

Despite the fear clawing at my chest, I can still feel his spirit. It glows warmly inside me. Every so often, it flickers faintly, but it doesn’t disappear. And that gives me hope. As long as I can still feel his spirit, he’s still alive.

The jungle flies past us in a blur of glowing greens and blues. Towering cupressi trees arch overhead, their twisted limbs clawing at the sky like gnarled fingers. We ride hard for hours, the only sounds the pounding of our mounts’ hooves and the rasp of Vrok’s breathing.

The eponir’s muscles bunch and stretch beneath me, each jolt rattling through my spine, but I grit my teeth and hold on tighter. Vrok is dead weight against me, and I’m terrified if I let go of him, for even a second, he’ll slip away from me.

By the time the first pale light of morning filters through the canopy, the eponirs are slick with sweat. Their sides heave and their muscles quiver with every step. They’re at their limit.

The warrior glances over his shoulder. “We need to stop. The eponirs will collapse if they don’t rest soon.”

I look down at Vrok. His face is lined with pain, and his eyes are still closed. Stopping is the last thing I want to do, but he’s right. If we lose the eponirs and have to make the trip on foot, then Vrok is as good as dead.

He leads us off the path, guiding his mount to a halt beneath the shelter of a large, twisted tree. Its thick branches stretch out above us forming a canopy that dims the weak morning light. Overhead, a lisek lets out a high, fluttery chirp, and for one strange moment, the world feels calm and peaceful. Like it doesn’t care that someone I love is clinging to life.

The warrior swings down from his saddle in one smooth move before he reaches up and lifts Lily from the saddle, his touch surprisingly gentle as he sets her down. She sways on her feet, and he steadies her.

For a moment, their eyes meet, and something in his hard expression softens. Just for a second. Then he turns to me, his focus shifting to Vrok.

“I’ll help you get him down,” he says.

Together, we ease Vrok from the saddle, careful not to jostle him. His body is limp and terrifyingly still. We lower him to the ground beneath the tree, and I drop down to sit beside him. My hands shake as I peel back the soaked fabric around his waist.

Dread coils tight in my stomach. The bandage around his abdomen is soaked through with blood, but as I fumble with it, I realize the stain is dark and dry. It’s not fresh blood.

The bleeding has stopped. A fragile spark of hope flares inside me, flickering to life like a match struck in the dark.

Lily sinks to the ground beside me, her eyes glassy with fatigue. “Emily, is he going to be okay?” she whispers.

I swallow hard and blink against the burn of tears. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “He’s fighting and he’s strong. “But he’s still here, and he’s fighting.”

The warrior drops a satchel on the ground and crouches on the other side of Vrok. The expression on his face is grim as he leans over and inspects the wound.

“The salixa gel is working,” he murmurs. “But he’ll have a better chance if a medic treats him.”

Turning back to the satchel at his side, he rummages in it for a moment before he pulls out a full waterskin and a leather pouch. He opens the pouch and holds it out to me. Inside are plump bilb berries.

“They’re packed with energy,” he explains. “If he’s got anything left in him, these might give him the strength to hang on. Squeeze a few drops of juice into his mouth. Not much. He won’t be able to swallow more than that, but it should be enough.”

I nod and take a handful of berries. “Thank you,” I whisper.

He passes the pouch and waterskin to Lily. “You should eat, too,” he says, gentler now. “You need to keep up your strength.”

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