Page 19 of Alokar (The Alliance Rescue #2)

Everyone fell into step behind my lead, our small procession winding along the narrow mountain trail. Rodney couldn’t lead someone from the bar to the bathroom, and I don’t think Ewok would have had it any other way.

Of course, that just gave Rodney the perfect opportunity to make himself a complete nuisance.

“How’s it hanging, Hannah?” Rodney tried to sidle up beside me, his boots scuffing on the path. Thankfully, the narrowness of the trail and Jubal’s considerable girth prevented any real closeness.

“I just buried my father, Rodney. How do you think it’s going?” I snapped, my voice sharp enough to cut as I kept my eyes fixed on the trail ahead.

“Yeah. I’m really sad about that.” I’d heard him speak with more genuine emotion when asking for another beer.

His tone was flat, perfunctory, like he was reading from a script he’d memorized but didn’t believe.

“You know, I noticed there were some logs splitting loose on your cabin last time I was up that way. I could stop by and fix it if you want. You’re gonna need a guy to help you now that you’re all alone. ”

I whipped my head around to glare at him, my hair swishing with the movement. The only way anyone came by my cabin was if they were up there on purpose—it wasn’t exactly on a main road or hiking path. How many creepy drive-bys had Rodney done? The thought made my skin crawl.

“You can cook me dinner as a thank you,” he suggested with a leering grin that revealed teeth stained yellow from years of cigarettes, cheap beer, and poor hygiene. Not a bad suggestion, actually. I had some rat poison tucked away in the cabinet somewhere.

I turned my head, mentally composing a scathing retort that would hopefully send him scampering back down the mountain with his tail between his legs, when Ewok suddenly shouldered himself between the two of us with such deliberate force that Rodney stumbled sideways, his arms windmilling as he fought to keep his balance.

I nearly laughed out loud at the sight. Bertha chose that exact moment to bray rather obnoxiously, as if she were adding commentary to the situation. I loved that mule.

“Hey, man?” Rodney scowled up at Ewok’s towering form, puffing himself up like a rooster facing down a hawk, as though he might actually appear threatening to someone of Ewok’s impressive stature.

“I’m sorry,” Ewok said with silky smoothness, his voice carrying the kind of polite menace that made smart people back down immediately. “I need to speak to Hannah regarding our plans after I kill the grizzly.”

Rodney was not smart. “How do you know you’ll be the one killing the grizzly?” He thumped his narrow chest with his fist, the sound hollow. Seriously, he actually thumped his chest like some kind of deranged gorilla. “We’re all expert hunters here.”

Ewok leaned toward Rodney with predatory grace, his honey-brown eyes growing hard as flint, the warmth completely draining from them until they resembled chips of amber ice.

I bet in his Kerzak form, Ewok could be absolutely terrifying.

He wasn’t doing too shabby a job of intimidating in his human disguise either.

“I know.”

Two simple words, delivered with such quiet, unshakeable confidence that they carried more weight than any boastful threat. The certainty in his voice was absolute, final, like a judge delivering a verdict.

Rodney huffed and puffed like the big bad wolf, trying to move to the other side of the trail to get closer to me, but Ewok used his considerable bulk to keep him at bay, like a living wall between us.

On pure impulse, I reached down and grabbed Ewok’s hand, winding my smaller fingers around his in a gesture that was both possessive and grateful.

His skin was warm and slightly rough, and his fingers immediately responded, curling around mine.

Rodney’s pale eyes immediately zeroed in on our joined hands, his face flushing an ugly shade of red as he noticed the intimate gesture—exactly as I’d hoped.

He huffed irritably, his jaw working like he was chewing on something bitter, then retreated to walk near Hank with his shoulders hunched in defeat.

“Thank you,” I murmured when I felt confident Rodney was out of earshot.

“I promised I’d protect you.” Ewok’s voice was low and rumbling, carrying an undertone that suggested he didn’t particularly care whether or not Rodney heard him. “And I will, from predators as well as assholes.”

This time, I didn’t even try to hold back my giggle.

We traveled along for several hours, our boots crunching over loose shale and pine needles. It was early afternoon when we came across a small meadow lined with thick pines and graceful birch trees. The river meandered along the meadow’s edge, its gentle babbling creating a peaceful soundtrack.

I set up my tent in minutes. The well-worn nylon snapped into its familiar shape without protest, the fabric weathered soft from countless camping trips with my father.

I chose what I thought was the perfect spot in the center of the clearing, close to where Ewok built a fire ring from smooth river stones.

The location seemed ideal—until Rodney pitched his grimy, duct-tape-repaired tent uncomfortably close to mine, the stained fabric reeking of stale beer, body odor, and neglect.

Without a word, Ewok simply picked up my entire tent and moved it closer to the treeline, creating some much welcome distance.

Rodney scowled at Ewok but had better sense than to try and move his tent closer.

I loved the way Ewok looked out for me. If he knew the truth of my sordid history with Rodney—the unwanted advances, the persistent harassment, my father’s intervention—I had no doubt Ewok would throttle him without hesitation.

Rodney proved not completely stupid. He seemed to recognize Ewok’s protectiveness and—while grudgingly—kept his distance.

Hank had brought along a generous haunch of pork, so there was no need for Ewok to hunt for our evening meal.

Still, he and I took a long, leisurely stroll through the forest, ostensibly foraging but really just enjoying each other’s company and the peacefulness of nature.

We discovered enough miner’s lettuce, watercress, and dandelion greens for a fresh salad, as well as stumbling upon another patch of wild strawberries, the ruby-red fruit bursting with sweetness.

Even with Rodney’s presence casting a shadow over my mood, dinner turned out to be surprisingly pleasant.

I sat with Ewok close at my side, his solid warmth radiating against me like a personal furnace, while Hank regaled us with increasingly outrageous hunting stories from his younger days that had me laughing until my sides ached.

Ewok laughed too, a low, deep, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through his chest and into mine, making my skin tingle with awareness and my pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with humor.

Speaking of skin, I noticed every time Ewok absently scratched at his forearm or shifted uncomfortably, the subtle signs of irritation from his camouflage device impossible to miss.

Knowing the disguise caused him constant discomfort made guilt twist in my stomach.

But Ewok in his alien form would shock Hank into a heart attack and give Rodney all the excuse he needed to try to kill him—assuming he could work up the courage.

When the night sky deepened from dusky purple to inky black, Hank began yawning. I noticed Ewok stand and reach for his pack. The thought of him lying out in the open all night, miserable and itching, was more than I could bear.

I stood as well, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird, and very slowly, very deliberately, extended my hand toward him in clear invitation.

Hank’s grizzled eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline, his mouth falling open in surprise, while Rodney’s face contorted like he’d just bitten into a particularly sour lemon. But I didn’t care about their reactions—not even a little bit.

Ewok gazed up at me, confusion written on his handsome face, but his large hand closed over mine. With a broad smile, I led him into my tent.