Page 11 of Charmed by the Alien Warrior (Spirit Mates of the Laediriian Exiles #2)

Mara

I shift on the cold stone floor, trying desperately to ease the pain in my thigh, but it’s no use.

From the small window I can’t see much of the village other than part of a tall wooden wall, but I can see the sky. And based on the darkness and the light pouring in from the moons, I’ve been stuck in here for hours.

When Bigfoot brought me to this empty hut, he hurled me in, not even bothering to untie my bound hands and feet, before quickly leaving. The last thing I heard was the ominous turning of a lock after he closed the door with a bang.

It’s obvious from everything I overheard, this is more than just a simple tribal dispute. They plan to slaughter Sorrin’s tribe in cold blood and take us girls for their own.

And one thing is clear—that Haavor guy is completely unhinged. Seriously, like some deranged, finger-steepling bad guy from a movie. And Chief Bigfoot isn’t much better, just a little more calculated. I got the distinct impression they have a folie a deux thing going on with Chief Bigfoot being the one that is ultimately pulling the strings. Add in Sevvern, the chief of the Xeniiv, and maybe folie a trois would be more appropriate.

It’s clear that I have to get out of here.

The smell of roasted meat drifts through the window, and if this tribe’s schedule is anything like the Anuriix, then most of them have probably gathered near the central fire pit for the evening meal. Which means, it’s the perfect time to act.

My hands and feet may still be tied up, but if I’ve learned anything from all those self-defense videos on social media I’ve watched, I can get out of this. It’s just a matter of trying. I raise my hands high above my head and take a deep breath. The move is supposed to be done while standing, but every time I try to rise, the pain in my thigh sends me crashing back down to the floor. So, improvisation it is.

With a swift motion, I jerk my hands downward, trying to snap the vine ropes apart. Nothing. Gritting my teeth, I try again. And again. But it’s no use. The vines hold strong.

I scowl at them. “What is this stuff? Titanium?”

Groaning with frustration, I decide to move on to plan B. If that doesn’t work, use the items in your surroundings. Glancing around, I study the hut a little closer. But my shoulders sag as I realize it’s completely empty. There’s nothing I can use.

Tilting my head, I study the hut itself. The walls are made of dark gray roughhewn stones of all different sizes with jagged edges protruding slightly in some spots, giving me an idea. I ignore the pain in my thigh as I scoot over to one of the protruding stones.

Closing my eyes for a second, I murmur, “Please let this work.”

Then, I raise my hands to a stone that seems to stick out a little more than some of the others and slowly begin to rub the rope vine against it. Back and forth. Back and forth.

The stone is rough, and each movement sends a jolt of pain through my wrists as my skin is scraped raw. But I try to ignore it and press on. It’s slow going, and at first, I’m almost ready to give up, but then bit by bit, the rope begins to fray.

I’m almost halfway through, now, and my heart is racing so fast I’m surprised they can’t hear it all the way at the fire pit. Freedom is so close now that I can almost reach out and grab it.

But then, just when I actually begin to believe that I might get out of here, my chance at freedom is snatched away. A shuffling sound from outside draws my attention. I push away from the stone and spin around to face the door, burying my hands in my lap so that my work on the bindings around my wrists hopefully won’t be noticed.

I expect it to be another of the Bigfoot creatures, but it’s the scarred Laediriian warrior from before.

My whole body freezes as he eases through the door. Moonlight pours into the small hut illuminating one side of his face and giving me a good look at the pale scar that’s etched deep into his thick skin.

He stands there silently studying me. I want to tell him to take a picture, it’ll last longer, but that flat, dark gaze unnerves me, making the words die on my tongue. Unlike the other Tussoll warriors I’ve seen, this guy is massive, even more so than the guys from the Anuriix tribe, and his large frame dwarfs the hut, making it seem even smaller and claustrophobic.

Finally, he moves. My mouth goes dry when he strides across the room in just three steps before dropping to a smooth crouch before me.

“We must hurry before they return.” His voice is low, but urgent.

I don’t know what I expected this giant of an alien to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Huh? What?” I stammer out.

But he ignores me and reaches for my wrists. The glint of a sharp knife in his hand sends a fresh wave of panic through me and I jerk backwards with a loud gasp.

He cocks his head at me, questioningly. “The guards. They have gone to eat the evening meal. If you wish to leave, then it must be now.” He gestures to my hands. “Unless, of course, you would rather stay.”

“No!” I say quickly. “No, I want to leave.”

I raise my hands, and that’s when he notices the frayed ropes. The only evidence of surprise is the slight rise of his brow ridge and the tilting of his head as he quietly murmurs,

“Clever female,” he murmurs.

I study him as he slices through my bindings, and I can’t help the words that leave my mouth.

“Why are you doing this?” I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I have to know. From my understanding of Laediriian tribes, this guy is the Tussoll chief’s First Warrior. The right-hand man of the leader and the guy in charge of training and commanding the warriors of the tribe.

“Because to harm a female, even one from an alien world, is to betray the very essence of our beliefs. And for my tribe—” He stops for a moment, then continues, a growl edging into his voice as he speaks. “For my tribe to join forces with our enemy against our own people, it is a violation of everything that makes us Laediriian.”

His gaze locks with mine, and for a split second, beneath the flat unreadable expression, I see a flicker of something else—something that looks a lot like regret. But before I can react, it’s gone and his eyes are a blank mask of gray again.

Once I’m untied, I rise unsteadily. My thigh burns, but there’s no time to deal with it now, so I push past the pain. He leads me silently out of the hut and along a back wall that’s at least twenty feet tall and made of logs. In the distance, I can hear the murmur of voices coming from the central fire pit.

Finally, we reach a small, unobtrusive wooden gate that’s set into the wall. It’s bolted with a thick bar of iron, but he opens it with a flick of his hand and waves me through.

As soon as we step outside the village walls, he speaks in a hurried whisper. “I cannot accompany you through the—” But his words are abruptly cut off by another voice. One that makes goosebumps rise on my arms and a relieved smile tip up the corners of my lips. Thank God.

I don’t want to examine too closely why I’m so happy to see Sorrin, so I don’t. I just simply drink in the sight of his long, muscular frame emerging from the shadows. His gray eyes look brighter, almost like they’re lit from within as they sweep over me.

“Mara? How did you...” His gaze shifts, locking onto the scarred warrior behind me. His expression twists with fury, and his sword is in his hand before I can blink. “Step away from her, traitor, or prepare to die,” he hisses, each word out of his mouth dripping with venom.

Sorrin stands just feet away, his feet braced, and his sword held steady in front of him, ready to attack. For a second, I freeze in stunned silence. I’m so used to carefree, arrogant Sorrin that seeing him replaced with this vicious warrior who looks ready to slay anyone who dares to look at him wrong is startling.

But even more worrying is the tingle of desire that moves through me as swiftly as an arrow and settles low in my abdomen. Fuck. Now is definitely not a good time for that. Actually, there’s no good time for that.

The sound of a growl from the warrior at my back snaps me out of whatever weird, horny trance seeing Sorrin go all feral put me in and I react instinctively by taking a step forward and throwing my hands up in the hopes of stopping the fight that seems to be fast approaching.

“Stop it! Both of you!” I turn my head to look at Sorrin. “He helped me escape.” The tension crackles like a thunderstorm about to break, but Sorrin doesn’t back down and his unflinching gaze never leaves the other warrior. A muscle in his jaw ticks letting me know he’s barely holding himself in check.

Okay, maybe I should try a different tactic to diffuse the situation.

“What’s your name?” I ask the scarred warrior.

He hasn’t drawn his sword, yet, but his hand grips the hilt of the large knife at his waist as if he’s just a second away from pulling it out of its sheath.

“Zahrik,” he growls, still eyeing Sorrin warily.

“Zahrik, tell him why you helped me.” I gesture to Sorrin.

The words spill out of his mouth in a rush, raw and bitter. “The things that are happening in my tribe are wrong. Joining forces with the Pugj, taking females against their will, all of it because my chief has decided he wishes to be a king and the Pugj have promised him that as long as he assists them.”

Sorrin still hasn’t lowered his sword, but the snarl is gone and I can tell he’s listening to every word the other man says.

“You’re the First Warrior, right?” Sorrin asks. At the other man’s confirmation, he hisses, “Then, you are complicit.”

“No.” Zahrik slices his hand through the air. “I am trying to undermine my chief’s plotting, but I am only one male against many. My tribe…”

He glances back to his village and I can practically feel the sorrow echoing through his voice. “My tribe is no longer the tribe I have honored and served my whole life. They have changed. Our chief has changed. He has become blinded by greed and ambition.”

He gaze flicks to me, then to Sorrin, before he speaks. His voice carries a warning and it sends a dark chill of foreboding down my spine.

“Tell your tribe. Haavor and his allies want to control all of Laedirissae. There will be war, and they will bring it to the Anuriix first.” He pauses before continuing, “And they have a spy inside your tribe helping them.”

Sorrin’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening, and I can tell he isn’t surprised by this information.

“Who is it?” he asks.

Zahrik shakes his head. “I don’t know the male’s name, only that he is close to your chief and has access to valuable information.” His gaze flicks to me, and I can see the regret in his eyes. “The Pugj knew about the females. They knew where you would be.”

Sorrin unleashes a string of guttural curses that I can barely understand, his fist clenching at his side. Then, with a curt nod and the slide of his sword back into its sheath, he seems to accept Zahrik’s words.

“Why don’t you come with us?” I ask, glancing at him. “It can’t be safe for you here.”

Zahrik meets my gaze, a flicker of grief crossing his face. “Even if they no longer act like my tribe, I must stay until the end. I must do everything I can to stop them.”

“At least, promise to come to us if things get too dangerous.” I press, my heart twisting at the thought of leaving him behind and at what might happen to him. “If they discover what you’re doing.”

He hesitates, then gives a reluctant nod. “I will, if it comes to that.”

As we prepare to leave, Sorrin steps closer to me until we’re almost touching as his sharp eyes scan me from head to toe. “Are you harmed?”

I don’t want to tell him about the wound in my thigh. After all, I’ve just managed to get these two to calm down. The last thing I need is for Sorrin to spiral into full protective mode again.

“Um, no, I’m fine,” I lie, offering him a shaky smile.

His presence beside me is like a comforting balm. A balm that makes heat rush to my cheeks, staining them beet red, I’m sure. I fight the blush, but Zahrik’s dark gray eyes catch it.

Zahrik's gaze flickers between us, a curious expression on his hard face. “This is your mate?” he asks, his tone carrying an unspoken challenge.

“N—” My answer is immediately cut off by the man at my side. His voice resonates with a possessive growl that makes my mouth go dry.

“Yes. I am her mate,” Sorrin snaps through gritted teeth, his attention locked on Zahrik with an intensity that leaves no room for argument.

Before I can process the shock of his declaration, a distant shout rings out from the village, breaking the moment.

“Quickly, you both must go,” Zahrik hisses, his voice tense with urgency. “But before you do, hit me.”

“Wh—what?” I stammer, confused at the sudden command, but Sorrin doesn’t even hesitate. His fist strikes out and lands against Zahrik’s nose with a sickening crunch that makes me gasp. Blood spurts out, dribbling down his face and chest.

“Anything else?” Sorrin asks, his voice calm but his eyes still burning with suppressed fury.

Zahrik winces, clutching his nose as he glares at Sorrin. “No, that will do. I’ll stall them.” And with that, he disappears back through the gate.

We flee, the uproar from my escape growing louder behind us. Sorrin takes my hand, his grip warm and firm as he guides us into the dense jungle and away from the sentries stationed on the edges of the settlement. Adrenaline surges through me, helping me to push everything, including the pain in my thigh, to the back of my mind and keep moving.

We run for what seems like miles. Until my legs burn with exhaustion. Until my muscles feel like jelly and my thigh throbs with beat of my heart. And then, when I think I can’t take another step, Sorrin slows to a walk, his steps silent as he moves over the ground.

Now, that it doesn’t appear as if he’s worried one of our enemies will leap out at us at any second, I can’t hold back the question that tumbles out of my mouth.

“What the hell was that?” I ask, my voice shakier than I would like.

Sorrin grunts. “It was the Tussoll village.” He glances over at me in concern. “Didn’t you know that?”

I roll my eyes. “No. I mean why did you tell him I’m your mate?”

At my words, Sorrin stops abruptly. His eyes lock onto mine, and the intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine. Desire flares to life in me, starting in my chest and spreading to every single place his gaze touches.

The sound of one of the small creatures that live in the trees—a nui—leaping from one limb to another above us shatters the moment. He turns away without saying a word, his long strides carrying him forward, and I follow.

The silence between us is heavy, and I don’t know if he’ll ever answer my question or even acknowledge it.

But then, he makes a low, almost growling sound in his throat. “I didn’t want him to think he could take you away from me...” His words end in a strangled sound and his eyes widen as if he’s just realized what he said. He clears his throat and finishes, “Away from us. Away from your friends.”

He glances at me from the corner of his eyes, and for a moment, I want to probe deeper, to ask if he truly meant the first thing he said. But I hold back and simply nod at him.

Sorrin releases a deep sigh, and we continue on, the jungle closing in around us as if nothing has happened. But something has changed between us. I can feel it like it’s a living, breathing thing.

My thoughts are in a tumult as we travel, but before long, I notice something is off. Even though I wasn’t able to see much from my vantage point tossed over Bigfoot’s shoulder, I don’t remember seeing anything like the large rock formation that appears.

Just off the side of the path we’re on, there’s a tumble of stones with one big boulder rising out of the middle of the pile that’s shaped eerily like a human skull, complete with hollowed out eye sockets. That seems like something I’d remember.

I come to a halt, and Sorrin immediately stops, looking back at me. “This isn’t the way back to the others, is it? Maybe I’m wrong, ‘cause it is a jungle, but I don’t remember those rocks,” I say, pointing at the macabre rock formation.

Sorrin sighs. “No. We’re going back to the village. It’s safer for you there.”

Oh, hell no. Uh-uh.

“You can go back if you want,” I snap, turning on my heel. “ I’m catching up with the others.”

Even though I’m walking as fast as I can manage, it only takes two long strides for his powerful legs to catch up with me and for him to pull me to a stop with a firm grip on my arm.

“I do not think you wish to travel in that direction, little human.” A teasing grin tilts up the corners of his mouth, and I drop my eyes to them.

For the first time since I met him, I don’t have the urge to slap it off. Instead, I welcome it, like something I didn’t realize I had missed while tied up in that hut.

I shake off the warmth that blooms in my chest. “Yes, I do. I’m not going back to the village without finishing what I started.”

His eyes narrow at my words, and for a split second, I wonder if I’ve said too much. If he’s going to question me about why I’m so adamant about continuing with the mission, about my distrust of his tribe—the very people who have been so welcoming to us.

But Sorrin doesn’t do any of that.

Instead, his head tilts to the side, his hair falling over one broad shoulder as he says, “Unless you have become enamored of their hospitality, that direction will take you back to the Tussoll village.” He gestures to another path that I only just now notice. “That way goes to the Ancestors’ Ship. It’s where the others will go next.”

My eyebrows rise with interest. “The Ancestors’ Ship?” At his nod, I continue, “Then, that’s where I’m going. You can come along if you want, but I’m not going back to the village, yet.”

He exhales a heavy sigh, but I ignore him and turn to march in the direction of the ship. The ship that his people claim will no longer fly. While it’s important to me to finish the task we were given, to search for the other humans, this is just as important.

Maybe it makes me stubborn, but I have to see with my own eyes that their ship won’t work. That it can’t get us back to Earth. I have to try.

And if it really doesn’t work, well, then, I’ll deal with that when I get there.