Page 7 of Charmed by the Alien Warrior (Spirit Mates of the Laediriian Exiles #2)

Mara

“How long are we going to stay here?” I ask, suddenly realizing I don’t actually know what our plans are for each location.

How long will we search for them? I know it probably isn’t wise to stay in one location for too long at a time outside the safety of the village, but I don’t know how long is too long.

We’ve stopped on top of a tall cliff, and before me lies a large, flat green plain that stretches as far as my eyes can see. Probably further than even the Laediriians’ eyes can see. In the far distance, to one side, a dark, imposing mountain rises up like a hulking behemoth, its jagged peaks hidden by swirling gray clouds.

This is the first time I’ve really been able to get a good look at the landscape of Laedirissae, and I have to admit, it’s surprisingly beautiful and tranquil. Deceptively tranquil—because I know this planet harbors all sorts of sharp-toothed and sharp-clawed creatures that would be all too eager to make a meal of me.

“Until the next sunrise.” Sorrin speaks from behind me. The whisper of his voice leaves a trail of goosebumps along the back of my neck.

He points to the far end of the grasslands in front of us, where the sea of green blurs into the horizon. “It will take us the rest of the day to traverse the grasslands to the far end in the distance. We’ll search as we travel.”

I notice the tiny dark specks scattered on the verdant plains and realize they’re probably some sort of herd animal. Maybe the dicros the tribe counts on as their primary source of meat. From up here, it looks like there’s thousands of the animals roaming the grasslands below us. And just as Draggar said there are no signs that a ship crashed here, but the grasslands stretch so far in the distance, maybe we just can’t see it, yet.

Isabella speaks up from her place perched in front of Vrenner putting voice to the thoughts running through my head. “Won’t it be dangerous to cross the grassland with all those animals down there? They might stampede.”

“As long as we keep to the edge, stay as quiet as possible, and stick together, the dicros won’t startle,” Yarik says, his calm tone catching me off guard. He’s been mostly silent and observant throughout our journey, making his input unexpected.

“Which means Yarik will have to keep his chattering to a minimum,” Sorrin quips from behind me, his voice laced with playful sarcasm. The remark earns a chuckle from the other three warriors.

Yarik doesn’t reply, but there’s a subtle twitch at the corners of his mouth—a ghost of a smile. It’s strange how moments like this, so ordinary and lighthearted, can almost make me forget how dangerous this place really is.

“What about the anurois? And the Pugj?” I question, shivering as I remember the big pterodactyl-like birds that harrassed us for so many days in the spaceship. “We’ll be sitting ducks for them to pick off.”

I feel Sorrin shift closer to me before he answers my question, calm assurance in his voice. “I do not know anything about this fowl you mention, but the anurois tend to avoid this part of our world. We’re not sure why, but it has always been that way. Perhaps, they don’t like easy prey for their meals.” He clears his throat. “The Pugj, too. We usually avoid hunting dicros on the Vex Grasslands, so our enemies do not tend to travel here. And if we do encounter them, well, we’ll protect you.”

His words bring me some relief, though I don’t let my guard down. This planet has a way of surprising you at the worst possible moments.

Moments later, Sorrin gives the command and we make our way down a sloping hill, our eponirs in a single-file line. The trail is rocky and I’m glad for the surefooted animals we ride on that seem to have the balance of mountain goats.

The descent doesn’t take long and before I know it, we’re through the last stand of thick trees and at the edge of the large swath of grassy land. Now that we’re closer, I realize the grassy stalks are a bright, almost neon green and they reach up to about the middle of our mounts’ legs.

We move onto the grassland in a line, snaking along the edge of the wide plains. From this close, I can see and smell the dicros. From what I’ve been told, the males release a pungent odor to attract females to them, and as I take a deep breath in, the musk burns my nostrils and my eyes.

Just like nearly everything on this planet, dicros are big, about the size of an elk back on Earth, but that’s where the similarities end. Two thick horns curl up and back from the top of their heads with two smaller horns sprouting from the sides and curling forward. They have brown fur that I recognize immediately as being the source of our blankets back at the village. Their long bushy tails slink low to the ground with a white tuft of fur on the end reminding me of a fox. Their heads are big, almost comically so, with blunt, short snouts that end in large pink noses that look like they belong on a cartoon animal.

I watch with relief as the animals closest to us shift, their round, tufted ears swiveling, as they move away from the edge of the grasslands and further away from us.

We travel on for what seems like hours, passing what must be thousands of dicro grazing peacefully on the lush grass. The herd stretches so far in every direction that it seems to blend with the horizon. A few times, fights break out among the males in the large herd—rut-fueled battles over territory and females—and the grazing dicros skitter away, allowing the males to go at it. Their horns crash together with a resounding crack that echoes around us like thunder.

Other than that, the journey across the grasslands is peaceful. The clean scent of fresh grass mingles with the earthy aroma of the soil, and the air hums with life. Birds flit about, their melodic chirps mixing with the low drone of insects and the occasional buzz of a large, iridescent bug darting past. The serene atmosphere lulls me, making it easy—almost too easy—to imagine I’m on a backpacking trip back on Earth.

But then the alien behind me shifts reminding me of his presence and shattering that illusion into a million pieces.

I’ve done my best to ignore the fact that I’m sharing an eponir with Sorrin, but the effort is wearing on me. Laediriians run hotter than humans, and his warmth radiates through the space between us, wrapping my back in a cocoon of heat even though we’re not touching. His scent drifts forward—a spicy, almost woodsy fragrance that’s distinctly him. Against my better judgment, I inhale deeply, letting it settle in my chest. It soothes me, but it also stokes an unfamiliar fire, causing my heart to race.

I don’t know what it is about this guy, but he sets me on edge.

And I can’t ignore the effect he has on me. Sure, he irritates me with his cocky grin and never-ending quips, but I’d be lying to myself if I said that was all. I’ve caught myself checking him out more times than I’d like to admit. His long body, a little leaner than some of the other men in his tribe, but still lined with rock-hard muscles. His dancing gray eyes and his shoulder length silver hair with swipes of aqua highlights. And that loincloth that seems to draw my attention more often than I’d like. He makes my stomach clench in a way that is unexpected.

I get it... I’m horny. And the longer I share a mount with Sorrin, the worse it seems to get. But jeez, why do I have to start lusting after a nearly seven-foot-tall alien? Especially one who irritates the hell out of me.

By the time we reach the edge of the grasslands, the sun is sinking toward the horizon, painting the turquoise sky with wide swathes of pink and lavender. We’ve scanned the area all day for any sign of the crash—flattened grass, smoke, wreckage —but we’ve found nothing. Even the warriors, with their super-sensitive senses, haven’t caught a whiff of anything unusual.

A heavy sigh escapes me as we reach the thick line of trees and undergrowth on the other side. I guess it was too much to hope that we’d find them in the first place we looked.

The bright turquoise sky is painted with wide swathes of pinks and purples signaling the day’s end when Sorrin’s voice calls out from behind me, “Let us halt here for the evening near the stream.”

His hot breath brushes along my skin and sends a shiver down my spine.

As soon as we dismount and unsaddle the eponirs, releasing them to graze, Sorrin announces he’s going hunting. He mentions catching the scent of something called a koyo before disappearing into the dense jungle without waiting for a response. His brisk departure leaves an odd tension in my chest, but I brush it off.

The rest of us work quickly to set up our temporary camp. The warriors joke and laugh while they go about their tasks, even Yarik cracks a smile. And the relaxed atmosphere soothes me more than I expected.

Isabella and I busy ourselves and head to the stream to refill the waterskins. Then, we lay out our sleeping pallets close to the fire. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to tear my attention away from the trees where Sorrin disappeared. He’s been gone longer than I would have thought just for hunting.

The knot of unease in my stomach tightens. I don’t want to be drawn to him, but something about him has a magnetic pull I can’t explain. Maybe it’s this planet, messing with my head. Haley fell hard for an alien—maybe there’s something in the air here, a pheromone. Or something in the water. That’s got to be it, right?

A faint jingling noise interrupts my thoughts, and I glance over at Isabella to see her pull something shiny from her bag. Her brown eyes are distant as if she’s lost in a memory.

The soft jingle draws my gaze again, and it takes me a second to register what it is. I blink in surprise at the sight of something so mundane and earthly on this alien planet.

“Why do you have keys?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

Isabella’s gaze meets mine, and her lips tip up in a sad smile as she lifts the keys to dangle from her fingers. Hanging from the keyring is a small plastic charm that I recognize immediately as a black cat.

“They were in my pocket when I was abducted,” she explains. Her fingers trace the edges of the cat as if it’s something precious. “I’d just left work, and I was walking to my car. Then well—you know the rest.”

A chill runs down my spine at her words because I know all too well how that part of the story goes. One minute, life is normal, and the next, everything changes so drastically that life becomes unrecognizable.

The little black cat sways gently from her fingers, catching the dying light, and I can’t tear my eyes from it. It’s worn, the paint on the ears have faded from years of handling, but there’s something oddly comforting about it. It’s a small piece of Earth—of home—on this planet so far away.

“My mom gave me this keychain when I bought my first car. When I was a kid, we had a black cat named Salem. Obviously, that was his name, right?” She chuckles. “It’s kind of silly, I guess, but this keychain has always brought me good luck.”

I can’t help but raise a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You were abducted by aliens, Isabella. I don’t think it worked.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I guess it didn’t work that day. But it’s not about luck anymore. It’s just something I’ve always had with me, you know? And now, it’s a reminder that home is real.”

I pause, considering her words.

“Well,” I murmur, “maybe your luck’s just waiting for the right moment.”

Isabella’s lips tip up in a smile, but it’s bittersweet. “Maybe.”

My gaze drifts to the jungle, the thick trees casting long shadows as the last traces of sunlight filter through them. The night is fast approaching, and Sorrin still hasn’t returned. A knot of anxiety settles in my stomach.

What if something happened to him? What if he’s injured out there all alone? What if…

I swallow hard and cut off the spiraling thoughts. What the hell am I doing? Worrying about some overgrown, overly confident lug I’ve barely known for a few days? It’s ridiculous.

I shift uncomfortably, trying to focus on anything but my rising worry. The flutter of night insects, the low murmurs of the others, the flickering campfire. But it’s no use. None of it can chase away the gnawing apprehension spreading through me.

Isabella clears her throat, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. “I’m sure he’s okay,” she says. There's a knowing note to her voice that makes me stiffen.

I sit up straighter, jerking my gaze away from the dark tree line where I’ve been far too obviously staring.

“What? I don’t know what you mean,” I say, trying to sound casual, but the heat I can feel spreading across my cheeks betrays me.

Isabella raises a skeptical brow. “Uh-huh. You’ve been watching the same spot for the last thirty minutes,” she points out. She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “It’s okay to admit that you’re worried about him. That you like him. It’s not a crime, you know.”

“Worried? About Sorrin?” I force a laugh, waving my hand dismissively. “I can’t stand him. He’s a cocky asshole.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, guilt swells up inside me. Sorrin isn’t an asshole. He hasn’t done anything but help me and my friends since we got here. He doesn’t deserve the way I’ve been treating him, and I know that. But old habits die hard, right? Pushing people away before they can hurt me. It was the same thing I did back on Earth.

Isabella smirks at me, clearly seeing through my weak attempt at deflection, and I can’t help but squirm a little under her gaze. Finally, she shifts her brown eyes to the flickering fire. “Sometimes it’s the ones we least expect that get under our skin.”

She says it so softly that I’m not sure if she meant for me to hear her words or not. But I do, and they’re like a sharp crack against my thoughts.

I barely know Sorrin, so why do I feel so unsettled by him? Somehow, every time I think about him or see him, I feel all twisted up inside. I don’t understand it.

Maybe I am losing my mind. Stress can do that, right? After everything we’ve been through, that must be it—I’m having a nervous breakdown. And it just happens to involve obsessing over a muscle-bound alien warrior.

Fuck me and my life.

Isabella shifts beside me, drawing my attention again. She leans back, stretching her legs out as she looks up at the sky, now a deep swathe of purple.

“Don’t worry too much, okay? Sorrin will be back. You’ll see.” She bumps her shoulder against mine, a light gesture of reassurance.

I let out a long breath, nodding despite myself. Somehow, her words ease the tight knot in my chest. Maybe Isabella’s right. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with caring about people. But caring...caring gets messy.

After my mom died, I learned fast and hard that no one’s going to protect me. Not really. The only one I can depend on to keep me safe is me.

I built a wall around myself—a fortress, really. I didn’t have any choice. Raising my sister and dealing with the fallout from our mom’s death would have chewed me up and spit me out if I hadn’t. It kept out everything that could hurt me. But maybe it also kept out the good parts, too.

I’m still mulling that over when Sorrin finally returns, his hulking form emerging from the shadows, and with a sigh, I realize I can finally breathe easy.

I study him closer and notice he’s carrying the carcass of some strange creature that looks like a cross between a rabbit and a possum but with green scales. Without wasting time, he starts to butcher the kill, his movements efficient and practiced.

The smell of roasting meat soon fills the air making my mouth water. I’ve learned not to turn up my nose at the protein sources on Laedirissae. I’m just grateful to have real food instead of the tasteless gray porridge the Zyfeliks gave us.

It doesn’t take long for the meat to cook, and soon we’re passing around chunks of it on large beng leaves that serve as plates. The flesh is tender and juicy, with a mild sweet flavor that makes me hum in delight. I quickly devour everything on my leafy plate and sit back with a sigh when I’m through. The hum of conversation around me is soothing, lulling me into relaxation.

For the first time in a long while, I feel content. I’m safe, comfortable, and my stomach is full from a meal I didn’t have to cook.

I tip my head back and gaze up at the dark sky above me. Night has fully settled in, and the sky glimmers with millions of twinkling stars. It’s so similar to Earth that I could almost fool myself into believing that I’m back home.

But as soon as I turn my gaze to the twin moons that illusion quickly fades.

“I’ll never get used to two moons,” I murmur, the words slipping out unbidden.

The Laediriians call them the Sister Moons, with the larger one being the Big Sister and the smaller one the Little Sister. Together, they cast a blue, ethereal glow over the land. Along with the bioluminescent plants shimmering faintly in the distance, the entire planet feels like it’s wrapped in a waking dream at night.

“Does your Earth have more than two moons?” Enosir asks from across the fire, his voice bright with curiosity as he tilts his head in question. He reminds me of a young puppy. Always in a rush. Always eager to learn more.

“No. It just has one,” I answer.

Beside me, Isabella leans back on her hands, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. “I’ve been wondering… why do you call them the Sister Moons? Why not the Brother Moons or something else?”

I expect Vrenner or Warrix to chime in with the answer, being the tribe’s resident tech expert and medic and both being more scholarly. But to my surprise, it’s Sorrin who speaks up, his smooth, deep voice carrying across the fire. His skin, bathed in the warm, flickering glow of the flames, makes his words feel like a soft caress in the night.

“Many generations ago, when our ancient ancestors worshipped goddesses, two of those deities were Maia, the goddess of knowledge, and Diierr, the warrior goddess. They were sisters bound together by their blood and their loyalty.” His words flow around the otherwise quiet campfire, weaving a story that transfixes me.

“But along came Luul, the trickster god of death, and he was no match for their beauty and grace. He decided Maia would be his mate, but she turned him away.” His mouth tilts up in a grin. “With good reason—he was the god of death, after all.”

“Undeterred, he turned his attention to her younger sister, determined to claim Diierr as his mate. But she rejected him, too, enraging him. In revenge, Luul cursed the sisters and turned them into moons.” His grin is gone, now, replaced by a solemn expression. “Forever within sight of each other but separated by the vast distances of space.”

“It is said the rivers were formed by their tears and the mountains by their attempts to hurl rocks, carved with messages, to each other. It’s said the remaining goddesses blessed our people with the amoris bonds, ensuring there would never be any doubt about who our mates are. That our spirits would always recognize each other. So, that even someone like the god of death could find a mate to make them whole.”

A hush falls over the group as his words linger. I glance up at the twin moons, their silvery light spilling across the land, and feel an ache in my chest. Sorrin’s gaze catches mine across the fire, and for a moment, his gray eyes seem to flicker with golden flames. I blink, and it’s gone.

“That’s… really sad,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion as I think about the sisters parted for eternity.

My thoughts drift to my sister back at the village. This is the longest we’ve been apart in years, and an unease gnaws at me. Sure, she has the others, but I’ve always been her protector, her guide. Now, I’m out here, and she’s not.

Then, Sorrin’s deep voice reaches me again, pulling me from my thoughts, and I wonder if, in addition to their other super senses, these guys can read minds.

“Your sister is safe. The warriors in our village will ensure nothing harms her.” His tone is soft yet filled with a strong certainty that instantly reassures me.

I nod in response, but when I glance back at him, I catch another flash of something in his eyes that looks like golden fire. I blink, and it’s gone, leaving me to wonder if I imagined it.

Weird.

Clearing my throat again, I try to shake off the strange feelings that have been plaguing me. “I know I shouldn’t worry, but it’s hard, you know. I raised her from the time she was twelve.”

Sorrin’s gaze softens, and there’s a tender concern in his eyes that makes it hard to keep my emotional walls up. “You did not have a father? Or a mother? Were you born from an artificial womb like us?”

I shake my head. “No, nothing like that. Both of our dads left when we were young, and our mom died a long time ago.”

The words come out flat and emotionless, almost as if I’m reciting a grocery list. I’ve talked about this so many times—with police, reporters, prosecutors, therapists—that sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else. My last therapist told me it’s a trauma response, that I’m disassociating to protect myself, and she was probably right.

I don’t want to talk about the details of my mom’s death right now, so I latch onto the first distraction I can think of, and it works.

Turning to Enosir, I nod at the short sword he carries in addition to his longer one. “That’s a unique weapon. What’s the story behind it?”

The distraction works, and it doesn’t take long before the warriors are deep in conversation about the merits of various weapons—short swords, long swords, spears, and everything in between.

Isabella leans close to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “These guys love playing with their swords, don’t they?”

The quip is so unexpected from her that I burst out laughing, a snort escaping before I can stop it. We both dissolve into giggles. The noise draws the attention of the warriors, momentarily putting a stop to their talk of weapons.

The puzzled expressions on their broad faces only make us laugh harder, and I can’t help but feel a little lighter. For a moment, the worries about my sister and everything else don’t feel so heavy.

Once the laughter subsides, Isabella gives me a soft smile. “It’s nice to see you laughing.” Then, almost hesitantly, she asks, “You know, I’ve never asked…What got you interested in true crime? I mean, you’re practically a walking encyclopedia.”

I glance at her, then at the warriors, who have resumed their spirited debate, oblivious to our quiet conversation. “Um, I actually host a true crime podcast.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, I used to. When I wasn’t working my main job at a hotel. I researched cases, dug into the details, and tried to give a voice to the victims.”

Isabella’s eyes widen in surprise. “A podcast? Wait…Are you Mara Anderson? From Shattered Innocence ?”

At my surprised nod, she gasps and continues, her words coming fast, “Oh my God, you’re one of the podcasters I listen to on my way to work! That episode you did on genetic genealogy and the Jane and John Does who’ve had their identities restored was amazing. After listening to it, I immediately donated to one of the groups that does testing.”

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to meeting listeners of my podcast, but hearing that it has made a difference, even if it was only in getting someone to donate to a cause dear to me, is worth it. It may have only started out as a way to cope with my grief, but at least it has helped someone else. At least, something good came from my mom’s murder.

“Yeah,” I murmur, feeling the familiar surge of bittersweet pride. I’m proud of my podcast, but I wish I had never had the need to start it. “It’s been my way of making sure someone is always fighting for the truth.”

Isabella eyes fill with empathy. “You’re doing something amazing. Seriously.”

I think of my mom, and suddenly, tears well up in my eyes. Emotion clogs my throat when Isabella suddenly leans over and gives me a hug, and I soak it up.

For so many years, it’s just been me and Maddie dealing with all the shit life has thrown at us. While, I’m still getting used to having friends I can depend on, it’s a feeling I’ve come to appreciate. And I’m determined to cherish each one of these amazing women.

Because I’m tired of being alone.