Page 11 of Alien Devil’s Wrath (Vinduthi Stolen Brides #2)

T he tunnel opened into something that belonged in fever dreams.

Fungal growths clung to the ceiling in vast colonies, their pale blue glow casting everything in otherworldly light.

The formations stretched across the cavern roof like a second sky, pulsing gently as they fed on whatever nutrients seeped through the stone.

Spores drifted through the air in slow spirals, each particle catching the phosphorescent light as it fell.

“Don’t breathe too deeply,” Bronwen warned, but her voice carried wonder rather than fear. “The spores are paralytic. Small doses won’t kill you, but enough concentration will drop you where you stand.”

She moved through the drifting particles like she was dancing, her path weaving between the heaviest concentrations. Every step was calculated, every turn deliberate. I followed, hyperaware of every breath, every movement she made.

This was her domain. She wasn’t just surviving in this place. She was thriving, making it look effortless. The way she navigated dangers I couldn’t even see reminded me why she drew me to her so completely.

Competent. Lethal. And in her element.

A tremor ran through the stone beneath our feet. Then another, stronger this time.

“Rock Borers,” Bronwen said, tilting her head to listen. “They tunnel through the walls, looking for mineral deposits. Usually, they stay deeper in the system, but when they swarm...”

She was already moving as she spoke, scanning the ceiling, reading patterns I couldn’t see. “We need cover. Now.”

The cavern shook violently. Chunks of fungal matter broke free from the ceiling, and a cascade of glowing spores erupted into the air like a toxic snowstorm.

Bronwen moved without hesitation. Her small hands grabbed my gear straps, hauling me against the cavern wall before I could react. She pressed her back against my chest, facing the toxic cloud, using her own body as my shield.

“Don’t move,” she breathed. “Don’t even think about moving.”

My hands found her waist instinctively, holding her steady against me. She was soft where I was hard, and having her pressed against me like this sent need racing through my blood despite the mortal danger surrounding us.

The spores drifted past us in streams of blue-white light, beautiful and lethal. One wrong breath and we’d both be paralyzed, easy prey for whatever scavengers lived in these depths.

But all I could focus on was the woman in my arms. The way she fit against me, the trust she showed by making herself my shield. My fangs extended despite the danger, claiming urges triggered by the primitive need to protect what was mine.

She was risking her life to keep me safe, and my body responded by wanting to mark her, claim her, make sure the entire universe knew she belonged to me.

“Almost clear,” she whispered, watching the spore patterns like she was reading a display.

My thumb traced the curve of her ribs through her shirt, and her breathing changed. The small shift made my cock twitch, made worse by the way she leaned into my touch instead of pulling away.

The spores settled finally, their glow dimming as they lost their airborne luminescence. But neither of us moved immediately. The moment stretched, charged and silent.

“The spores have settled,” she said, her voice still breathless. “We should go.”

“Yes,” I agreed, but still neither of us stepped apart.

When she finally turned in my arms, her face was tilted up toward mine, lips slightly parted. For a heartbeat I thought about closing the distance between us, about finding out if she tasted as lethal as she looked.

Instead, I stepped aside and let her lead us deeper into the tunnel system.

The passage ahead narrowed dramatically, forcing us to move single file through a corridor barely wide enough for my shoulders. Worse, the air here was thick with concentrated spores. A tunnel of glowing death that stretched into darkness.

“I can get us through,” Bronwen said, studying the hazardous passage like she was analyzing a complex puzzle. “But you’ll have to trust me.”

Something in her tone made me look at her more carefully. She was serious. Deadly serious in a way I’d never seen from her before.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you to.” Her hands came up to rest on my chest, and my heart hammered under her palms. “I’ll guide you step by step, but you have to surrender your sight. Completely.”

Give up on one of my greatest advantages. Let her lead me blind through a passage that could kill us both.

The very idea went against every survival instinct I’d honed over decades of violence. I’d survived by trusting nothing and no one but my own abilities. Control meant life. Vulnerability meant death.

“Zarek.” Her voice was soft but insistent. “I need you to trust me.”

I looked into her dark eyes, seeing the confidence there, the absolute certainty that she could keep us both alive. She knew this place better than I knew my own scars. She’d kept herself breathing in hell for five years through knowledge and skill I couldn’t match.

“Close your eyes,” she repeated.

I did.

The world went dark. Every other sense immediately sharpened. Her breathing, the warmth of her body near mine, the mineral tang of the cavern. Without sight, I was hyperaware of her proximity, the gentle pressure of her hands on my chest.

“Step forward,” she said, her voice becoming my anchor in the darkness. “Small steps. Follow my hands.”

Her palms pressed against my chest, guiding my movement. A step to the left. Another forward. The trust required was more intimate than any physical touch. I was putting my life entirely in her small, capable hands.

“Duck slightly,” she whispered. “There’s a low overhang just ahead.”

I obeyed, feeling displaced air brush my hair as we passed under some invisible obstacle. Her guidance was flawless. She was reading the tunnel, the spore patterns, the safe path through toxic beauty, and translating it all into gentle pressure against my body.

“Stop.” Her hands flattened against my chest, holding me motionless. “Heavy concentration here. Count to fifteen, then we move.”

I held still, trusting her, while death drifted inches from my face. In the darkness, nothing but her voice and touch to guide me, a truth settled in my chest that should have terrified me.

I would follow her anywhere. Into hell, into death, into whatever came next.

“Move forward. Three steps, then we’re clear.”

When we finally emerged from the passage, she didn’t immediately tell me to open my eyes. For a moment we stood there, her hands still pressed to my chest, my world reduced to the sound of her breathing and the warmth of her touch.

“You can look now,” she said finally.

I opened my eyes to find her staring up at me, something wondering in her expression. We were standing in a wider chamber, safe from the concentrated spores, but she hadn’t stepped away.

“You trusted me,” she said, sounding almost surprised. “I could have led you anywhere, and you would have followed.”

“Yes.”

The simple acknowledgment hung between us, heavy and undeniable. I trusted her in ways I’d never trusted anyone. The knowledge should have sent me running.

Instead, it felt inevitable.