Page 16 of Charmed by the Alien Warrior (Spirit Mates of the Laediriian Exiles #2)

Sorrin

Sard, we’re locked in.

“What just happened?” Mara asks, her voice tight with tension. Her wide green eyes search mine for reassurance, but I can see the fear creeping in. Her face is so pale I can make out the faint trace of blue veins at her temples.

The blaring alarm abruptly cuts off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The stillness presses in on me, thick and heavy, but my mind won’t stop racing as I run through every scenario I can think of to get us out of here.

I clench my jaw, forcing myself to sound calm. “The security system has locked down the ship. The doors won’t unseal until tomorrow morning.”

Stepping forward, I press my palm against the door, willing it to respond, but it stays stubbornly shut. Of course, it’s not going to work. That relentless, sarding tiniio triggered the ship’s security system and a full lockdown protocol has been implemented. I may not be tech savvy like Vrenner or the human, Isabella, but even I can read a warning message when it flashes on a monitor.

But I refuse to admit defeat just yet. I’m not known as the best hunter in the tribe for nothing.

“Maybe I can…” My words trail off as I run my fingers along the seam where the door meets the wall, feeling for any weakness, anything that might give me leverage.

I dig my fingers into the barely discernible crack where the door meets the wall and pull with all my strength. Every muscle strains as I try to force it open, but it doesn’t budge, not even a fraction. With a huff of frustration, I slam my palm against the cold, unyielding surface.

Sard. This can’t be happening. Not in front of Mara. Not now that I have tasted the paradise between her thighs. She will never let me taste her again if I make a fool of myself in front of her.

Beside me, Mara shifts closer, the soft rustle of her movements catching my attention. Her body is tense, her earlier lightheartedness replaced by a quiet nervousness. It makes my chest tighten. I would give anything to see that soft smile return to her face, to hear her laughter echo through the ship again. Maybe…

“Are you okay?” Mara asks, the concern lacing her voice making me want to pull her close and bury my face against her fragrant mane if only to forget the situation.

“Yes,” I grit out. There is no need to tell her of my weakness. The fear that has followed me around since I was young. There is no need for her to think that I’m weak.

I force a grin, though I know it probably looks like the expression on Enosir’s face when he was sick from eating too much sweet nectar. “It looks like we’re not going anywhere for a while,” I chuckle, trying to inject some levity into the situation. My voice feels too loud in the quiet room, but at least it works—Mara’s lips quirk up, even if it’s just for a moment.

“So, what do we do now?” She asks, looking around the control room.

I glance at the console, trying to push down the tension that is building in my chest. “Maybe I can unlock the security systems.”

Crossing the room, I take a seat in front of the monitor and stare at the display, hoping it will give me some clue, some way out of this mess.

“Okay,” Mara replies, her voice steady and sure now. “I’ll check the bag they left behind for us. Maybe there’s something we can use in it.”

I hear her rummaging through the satchel while I tap away. My eyes scan the monitor, looking for any kind of override or manual release, but it quickly becomes clear I’m out of my depth. I’m a warrior, not a tech. The security protocol is airtight, and nothing I try works.

For the first time in a long while, I feel like the inexperienced young male I used to be when… No, I am not that male. Not anymore. I’ve worked hard and trained even harder to become the warrior I am today. I will not allow this small setback make me feel inferior.

With a heavy sigh, I push away from the console and rub the back of my neck. “We’re stuck in here until the system resets at dawn.” I mutter, frustration thick in my voice.

I glance over at Mara, who’s now watching me with a faint frown, her bright green gaze running over my face as though she can read the tension there.

She offers a small smile as she pulls a full waterskin from the satchel, followed by a pouch of dried meat. “Well, maybe it won’t be so bad. At least we have food and water.”

Mara rifles through the rest of the contents, then pauses, her brows drawing together in confusion. Then, she pulls out a jumble of small metalloid objects that jingle as they clang together. A small black charm dangles from her fingers. Suddenly, a beaming smile spreads across her face. My breath catches in my throat as I stare at her. Goddesses, she’s beautiful.

I clear my throat, pushing down the lump that has suddenly grown there. “What is it?” I’ve never seen anything like the tinkling metalloid objects and the charm. It must be something alien—something the humans brought with them to our planet.

The smile is still on her face as she explains, “They’re Isabella’s. She said the keychain is her good luck charm.” Mara chuckles as her fingers rub over the charm. “I guess she left it because she thought I need it more right now.”

I move until I’m close enough to take a seat beside Mara on the padded bench. “Does it represent some sort of creature from your planet?”

She laughs. “Yeah, a black cat. There’s an old superstition on Earth that black cats are unlucky, so not exactly the first choice for a good luck charm.”

I nod at her words. “We have superstitions like that. They don’t really make any sense to me, now, but I believed them as a kitling.” At her curious look, I continue, “If you break a training sword you will be cursed with misfortune until the next full moons or if the shadow of an anuroi falls upon you you will be cursed with misfortune… Now, that I think on it, the outcome of nearly all of our superstitions is being cursed. You’d think there would be at least one that involves good fortune.” Mara laughs at my words, and I feel a lightness in my heart that has been absent since the door closed us in.

“That’s how it is on Earth. So many are about bad luck.” She shakes her head before carefully placing the good luck charm back in the satchel.

Silence falls over us, and I shift on the bench, acutely aware of Mara’s presence beside me. The space between us feels charged and thick with unspoken words.

My gaze drifts back to the console, its cold blue glow casts an eerie light across the room. We’re safe, but being enclosed without a way out makes my heart pound so hard it feels as if I have two hearts in my chest pumping away. The control room felt big and airy, but now, the walls feel as if they’re closing in on me.

“I didn’t expect it to be so quiet,” Mara says softly, breaking the silence. She leans back against the bench, her eyes flickering around the room. “It’s almost peaceful in a way. Like the ship is waiting for something.”

I snort. “Waiting to let us out.” I don’t tell her how much the sound of her soft voice helps me. It grounds me and reminds me that I’m not alone, and I’m not that youngling anymore.

She’s quiet for a long moment, and I find myself watching her—noticing the way her shoulders relax, the curve of her lips, the warmth in her green eyes despite everything she’s been through.

From the very first moment I saw Mara holding a spear at the crashed ship, I was drawn to her, even though I didn’t want to be. Her defiant gaze and the stubborn set of her jaw let me know immediately that she is not a female to be crossed. She has endured so much, but she has survived and grown stronger because of it.

But seeing her like this? With a softness in her gaze and the gentle curve of her lips, I find it nearly impossible to tear my eyes from her.

Without thinking, I shift closer, my knee brushing against hers. The contact is brief, but it sends a spark of electricity shooting up my leg.

I freeze, waiting for Mara to pull away, but she doesn’t. If anything, she seems to edge closer to me.

She turns to me, her eyes roving over my face. “So, what makes you tick?” Mara asks. She studies me as if I’m one of the specimens Warrix analyzes in his clinic.

“Tick?” Most of the humans’ words are easily translated by the chip lodged in my head, but I do not understand why she would ask me about an Earth insectoid. Perhaps, she fears such creatures. Yarik certainly does.

Before I can open my mouth and assure Mara that I will protect her from any and all creatures, she explains, “Yeah, I can’t figure you out. One minute I think you’re this funny guy—the class clown—and the next, you’re all serious and commanding. Who is Sorrin the big, strong warrior? What made you the person you are?”

I hesitate to answer her. I don’t want this strong, fearless female to know of my weakness. To know of my lonely origins.

But she watches me so expectantly and I feel compelled to tell her something.

“My father died before I was removed from my womb. At the time, orphans were raised by the entire tribe, and I suppose I learned early that it’s easier to be cheerful.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I don’t want to see the pity in her gaze, so I change the subject.

I clear my throat “You should rest,” I say. My voice sounds rough in the quiet room. “It will be hours before the system resets, and you need your strength.”

Mara raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile stretching across her lips. “And you? What about your strength?”

I scoff. “Strong warriors don’t need rest.”

Mara’s eyes do that odd rolling movement the humans enjoy so much, but her smile softens settling like a warm ember in my chest. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

Her eyes sweep over my face and I note the concern in them, something I never thought I’d see in this human’s gaze. And I suddenly feel the urge to reassure her.

“I’ll be fine.” At her look of disbelief, my voice gentles. “I may even take a nap in a little while.”

“You’re sure?” Mara asks. At my nod, she scoots a short distance away on the bench and curls up until she’s almost in a ball.

It doesn’t take long before her breathing grows soft and even as she falls into sleep, and I’m alone again. Just like I’ve always been.

My gaze falls on Mara.

But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.

***

A throbbing pain at the back of my head is the first thing I notice as I wake up. My eyes blink in confusion as I take in the thick darkness surrounding me and my memory comes rushing back. I’m trapped in a pit inside one of the many caves that dot Laedirissae.

It’s so quiet I can hear every beat of my heart pounding in my head like the thud of drums. The steady thump-thump reverberates through my skull and grows in intensity until it sounds like a heartbeat. Somewhere in the distance, I hear water dripping and the sound of small creatures scurrying along the floor.

I’m completely alone except for the small animals. Just like I’ve always been alone. I should be used to the empty void deep in my chest by now, but for some reason it feels hollower now than ever. A cavernous emptiness that I can’t explain. There’s something or someone just out of reach, something that could fill that void, but no matter how much I search my memories for what or who it is, I can’t grasp it.

I’ve always been alone, and I’ll always be alone. I’m an orphan. Just like Vrok says… No one wants orphans.

The darkness thickens around me, crawling closer. It presses down like a living thing, reaching out with unseen tendrils to consume me whole. Fear rises inside me, sharp and choking, like a dicro bone lodged in my throat. But I can’t let it overwhelm me. Warriors don’t succumb to fear. I’m not a warrior yet, just a young hunter, but I will be. And warriors don’t break.

I won’t let my fear win. I won’t let it control me. I must be strong. That’s the only way to keep the weakness—the loneliness—at bay. If I’m strong, no one will hurt me. Not Vrok, with his teasing words, or Sevvern and Terrik... They were the ones who put me here. Well, Terrik did. Sevvern would never dirty himself to any task when he has Terrik to do it for him.

A mournful cry cuts through the stillness, and I freeze as I listen, my ears twitching to pick up any other sounds. It’s a xeno, and it’s close. Too close. A shiver crawls down my spine like ice in my veins. I can’t stay here.

I glance up, eyeing the towering walls of the pit. They rise high above me, narrowing at the top like the gullet of a large beast. I have to get out.

I grit my fangs and dig my fingers into the rocks and hard-packed dirt of the walls, and I begin to climb. My muscles burn as if they’re on fire, but I keep climbing, desperation making me rush.

But it’s no use. I climb and climb, but the walls of the pit seem to stretch on endlessly. My nails are torn and ragged and blood drips down my fingers, making my hold slippery. Pain sears along my nerve endings, but I don’t stop climbing. I can’t.

The xeno’s cries grow louder, its mournful call vibrating through the walls as it comes closer and closer.

I push myself harder, the rough rocks and dirt digging into the already raw flesh of my fingers, but the walls stretch on endlessly, as if mocking my struggle. No matter how much I climb, freedom is always just out of reach.

My heart pounds in my ears, but not loud enough to drown out the low, rumbling growl just above my head.

Stilling, I look up and into the gaze one of the most fearsome predators on Laedirissae. The xeno.

Yellow eyes gleam in the shadows above, piercing through the gloom like twin flames. The beast’s sleek black form blends almost seamlessly into the darkness around it. It opens massive jaws to reveal rows of sharp, pointy teeth that look as if they would be particularly adept at tearing apart the flesh of a Laediriian hunter.

A thin line of drool trickles out of its gaping mouth and splatters on top of me, landing in my eye causing me to flinch. The beast growls again, low and dangerous, crouching as if it’s preparing to pounce.

But in the blink of an eye, the animal’s form blurs and dissolves, seeming to melt back into the cold, oppressive darkness it came from.

I let out a sigh of relief and force myself to keep climbing, my muscles screaming in protest. This time, I reach the top. A triumphant grin spreads across my face as I curl my hands over the edge of the pit.

But just as I’m bracing my muscles to pull myself out of the pit, a heavy boot slams down on top of my hand, grinding it into the stone floor and sending a sharp pain through me.

I hiss in agony and look up in disbelief to see Terrik looming above me.

Sevvern steps out from behind his friend, the sneer on his face cruel and twisted. “You thought you could escape, didn’t you?” His voice drips with venom as he continues, “But you can’t. You’re going to rot down there like the worthless trash you are.”

Terrik’s foot presses harder, grinding my hand into the stone and adding new wounds to my already damaged flesh. I gasp as my vision blurs from the pain.

Sevvern’s lip curls in disgust, and before I can react, he orders Terrik to press harder. The larger male has all his weight digging into my hand, now. I cry out as a new wave of white-hot agony crashes through me as my free hand claws and scrabbles against his ankle, trying to remove his weight. But it’s no use. Terrik is older than me and bigger.

Sevver’s laughter echoes around me, loud and mocking, filling the pit with its cruel sound and stabbing into my mind. The sound twists and grows, warping as it surrounds me until I can’t tell if it’s coming from him or the darkness around us.

The walls seem to be closing in as the darkness reaches out to me again, eager to drag me into the void below, and this time I don’t fight it. I don’t have the strength. Tendrils of cold claw through my skin and into my veins, spreading through my body.

My racing heart slows, growing sluggish until it feels as if it barely beats. Sevvern’s laughter blends into the oppressive silence, and I feel myself slipping away into the cold, empty void below.

Just as the void is about to swallow me whole, something else reaches through the darkness to me. It’s a voice, distant but achingly familiar, and it sends a ripple of warmth through my veins.

“Sorrin.”

At first, the voice is a whisper, like the softest brush of warm breath against my cold skin. But then, it grows louder, more insistent, and demanding that I pay attention to it.

“Sorrin!” The disembodied voice cuts through the darkness, beckoning me back to the light.

Back to softness and a smile that is rare but blinding and precious. To a gaze that is brighter and greener than anything I’ve ever seen on my world. And to lips that I ache to feel against my own again.

I glance up and there she is.

“Mara?” I choke out her name.

She’s watching me now, her face seems to be illuminated from within, her expression is filled not with mockery, but with concern. Her bright green eyes shine with some emotion that I don’t know what to call. Could it be lo… No, it can’t be.

I shake my head at my thoughts. Mara could never, would never have those feelings for me. She is courageous and amazing and so very alien to everything I know, and I can sense how much she longs to return to her planet. I can see the hope on her face every time I mention the Ancestors’ Ship.

“Sorrin.” she says again, her voice steady and reassuring. She bends low and reaches out a slim hand to me. “Come with me.”

Her words cut through the fog of fear and pain, and for the first time since I woke up in this hole, I feel a flicker of hope. I reach up, my fingers trembling as they brush against hers. The warmth of her touch is like fire to my frozen, lonely spirit.

As my fingers close around her hand, I realize something. The warmth? It’s real. My eyelids flutter and through the remnants of my disappearing nightmare, I feel it. Mara’s soft skin against my own.

“Sorrin!” Her voice breaks through the last remaining haze of sleep forcing out the last remnants of my fear. “Wake up!”

I open my eyes, blinking against the dim light in the room. Mara’s face hovers above me, her brows furrowed with concern and fear, and I curse myself for putting that expression on her face. She clutches my hand tightly in hers as if she’ll never let go.

“Mara?” My words come out hoarse and I have to swallow to force down the lump that has suddenly lodged in my throat.

My heart is still racing at double its normal speed as memories of the pit and Sevvern’s cruel laughter linger in the back of my mind.

“You had a nightmare,” she explains softly, her thumb brushing lightly over my hand as if trying to soothe me.

I take a deep breath, trying to separate the dream from reality. My pulse slows as I focus on her touch and her presence here beside me.

“It was just a dream,” I mutter, as if saying it aloud will make it true. But I know it’s a lie. The pit, the pain, Sevvern—they were real. All too real.

Mara’s hand tightens on mine, pulling my attention back to her. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”

I swallow hard, nodding at her words. Her presence, her warmth, it pushes away the lingering tendrils of the memories, and suddenly my thoughts become clearer than ever.

I’m not alone anymore.