Page 6 of Charmed by the Alien Warrior (Spirit Mates of the Laediriian Exiles #2)
Sorrin
This is going to be a long journey.
My mouth turns down into a frown as I stare at the female perched in front of me.
The moment we left the village and took the trail winding through the jungle, her entire body stiffened, her spine so rigid I’m amazed it hasn’t snapped under the strain. Her tension is palpable, radiating off her like heat from sun-scorched stone. It is almost as if there is a battle raging inside this small female over something.
For some reason, more than any of the other humans, this one puzzles me.
More than puzzles me. She captivates me in a way I can’t explain. Her flowing locks sway with each step Kaja takes, catching the shifting dappled light. Her mysterious eyes—though I can’t see them now—somehow both draw me in and push me away.
She sits stiffly, her back a straight line, carefully ensuring no part of her body touches me. Her head remains forward, as if locked in place, but I know those sharp green eyes are most likely darting side to side, taking in every detail of the jungle around us.
I try to keep my attention focused on our surroundings, but it’s difficult with Mara in front of me. She is so near, and yet so far away. My eyes keep drifting back to her, tracing the line of her shoulders, the way her fingers clench the edge of the saddle.
After a while, I wonder if she can feel the touch of my eyes on her because she sits up even straighter, moving slightly forward until she’s nearly at the very edge of the saddle. Alarm spikes in my chest. If she falls, she could be trampled beneath Kaja’s hooves. The thought of her soft body bruised and bloodied sends an icy jolt through me.
I lean forward and place a firm hand around her waist, holding her securely in place. Her body is warm beneath my touch, and her curves are softer than I imagined making my tongue tangle in my mouth. I usually have no problem thinking of witty remarks, but with Mara, my mind always seems to become empty of any thoughts but her loveliness.
As soon as my hand touches her, she gasps and whips her head around to glare at me, her vivid green eyes narrowed in a look that, from any other warrior, might have made me take a step back. But instead, my mouth quirks upward at the corners.
This female will be my undoing.
“It would not do for a female as small as you to fall beneath Kaja’s hooves,” I say, my voice a little rougher than I intended.
She makes a sound in her throat at my words that reminds me of the squawking of an eponir newling, then she shakes her head as if clearing it and asks, “Is that your eponir’s name? Kaja?”
“Yes.” I slide my other hand down to pat Kaja’s side, my fingers threading briefly through her coarse fur.. “Kaja is a fine mount. The smartest and most beautiful in the herd.”
Kaja snorts and lifts her head up higher as if saying she agrees with my words, and a chuckle bubbles up in my chest. My mount picks up her pace a little, lifting her feet higher like she is showing off for the whole of Laedirissae.
Mara makes another of those strange sounds before she asks, “Can she understand you?” Her voice is nearly a whisper, and her quiet tone lodges inside me. I grit my teeth against the thoughts that race through my head. Thoughts of her soft voice whispering against my ear in the dark of night.
“Eponirs are intelligent creatures. They are trained to follow the commands of the warrior they carry, even in the thick of battle. I do not know if they understand every word I speak, but I believe they understand far more than we give them credit for.”
Mara nods, her head tilting slightly as if considering my words. Then she falls silent, her posture softening, her thoughts drifting elsewhere.
I try to return my focus to the jungle around us, scanning for any sign of danger, but my attention keeps slipping back to her. Her nearness is distracting—her soft body shifts gently with Kaja’s movements and her sweet fragrance is carried to me by the breeze as we move over the ground.
A groan works its way up through my chest to my throat, but I stifle it before it can emerge from my mouth. The last thing I want to do is to alarm her. The humans are fragile and small, so unlike us warriors. And if I ever saw the flash of fear in her dazzling eyes, it would break me.
Hours pass as our group moves through the jungle. We have much ground to cover, so we decide not to stop until it is time for the midday meal.
By the time we stop in a small clearing, the sun is high above us in the sky, heating the jungle until beads of sweat have formed along the back of Mara’s thin neck. As soon as I step from the saddle, I hold my hands up to help her down. But before I can, she shakes her head, determination flashing in her eyes as she awkwardly slides down to land with a hard thump on the ground.
Her whole body sways for a moment, and I reach out to steady her, my hands immediately going to either side of her waist, but she brushes me off.
“I’m fine,” she says, her tone clipped, and staggers away toward Isabella, who is already rounding a large bush. My eyes follow Mara until she disappears from view, a strange mixture of concern and frustration fluttering in my chest.
The other males are already setting out the travel rations and waterskins we brought with us. It will not be a large meal, but it will nourish us. For now, we will eat from the provisions we brought with us, but later tonight we’ll be able to hunt and have fresh meat to eat.
Even as I think of the evening meal, an unfamiliar urge rises within me.
I want to bring Mara the best. To go out into the jungle and kill the largest, fiercest animal I can find. To carve the choicest cuts of meat and offer them to her, as though my skill and strength could somehow please her. Perhaps she would like the heart—it is considered a delicacy by the people in my tribe. The thought stirs something primal in me, but I quickly push it aside as the females return.
“How long will it take us to reach the Vex Grasslands?” Enosir asks, his excitement making the words tumble out.
As the waterskins and bags of travel rations make their way around, Mara reaches for a handful of the sweet and salty mix—dried dicro meat, bilb berries, and nuts. The humans call it trail mix , a strange term that somehow suits it. I find myself watching her again, the way her fingers pluck at the food so delicately, the quick flash of her small, blunt teeth as she chews.
They are so poorly equipped for the jungle, their smooth skin offering no protection, their bodies lacking the ridges and armor that nature gave us Laediriians. But it only rouses my protective instincts. And something else. Something that makes a shiver shoot straight to my cock.
Turning my attention back to the other male’s question, I’m reminded that Enosir has never ventured out of our tribe’s territory—the furthest he has traveled was when we journeyed to the humans’ crashed ship. He was only recently made a warrior, and he is the youngest one in our tribe.
“We should arrive just after midday, if all goes well on our journey.” I answer him.
Mara looks up sharply at my words, her attention focused solely on me. “Why? Are you expecting something to go wrong?”
“No,” I say evenly, “but a wise warrior always expects the unexpected and prepares for it.”
Her eyes narrow briefly in thought, and then she nods, as if my explanation passes some internal test.
Enosir, eager to prove himself, swipes a hand across his mouth and puffs out his chest. “Do not worry, female. We will protect you.”
I’m amazed and alarmed when Mara’s eyes quickly roll skyward at his words. This is an action I have noticed the humans make many times, though I will never truly understand it. It’s as if she’s annoyed and amused all at once.
She speaks up, her eyes flashing green fire, “Seriously? Don’t call us female. We have fucking names. I’m Mara.” She touches her hand to her chest, then waves her hand to the female sitting next to her, who nods in agreement “And this is Isabella. We’ve learned your names, at least try to learn ours.”
The fire in her voice, the flash of defiance in her green eyes, stuns me. It’s so different from some of the other humans, who are often timid and uncertain. Mara stands out like a flame in the dark, her strength of will refusing to be extinguished.
For a moment, Enosir looks genuinely flustered, his youthful bravado faltering. His gaze darts to me for support, but I don’t intervene. This is a lesson he needs to learn. Respect is not given freely, it is earned. And Mara has made it clear she demands nothing less.
“Point taken,” Enosir mutters, his voice quieter now. He looks at Mara and Isabella, his expression a mix of contrition and newfound respect.
The moment passes, and the group settles into a companionable silence, the only sounds the rustling of the jungle and the occasional calls of unseen creatures. I finish my portion of the rations quickly, my thoughts drifting as I watch Mara from the corner of my eye.
She doesn’t notice my gaze, too busy speaking quietly with Isabella, but every movement she makes seems to draw my attention—the way her fingers brush her brown hair back from her face, the soft curve of her profile in the sunlight.
I force myself to look away, focusing on the horizon instead. The Vex Grasslands are still some distance away, and the jungle will only grow denser as we travel. There’s no time to let my mind wander, no time to dwell on the strange pull I feel toward her.
And yet, as the group prepares to move out once more, I can’t help but glance at her one last time.