Page 9 of Charmed by the Alien Warrior (Spirit Mates of the Laediriian Exiles #2)

Mara

One minute I was sitting on Sorrin’s eponir trying to suppress the nausea that suddenly hit me from the smell from the bitter trees. The next minute, the entire forest erupted in a chaotic storm of fur, claws, and steel as big hairy creatures seemed to come out of nowhere to attack us.

I immediately recognized the creatures as the Laediriians’ enemies, the Pugj.

Thick, shaggy hair matted with dirt covered their hulking forms, and grotesque fangs glinted in the dappled light. They looked like the stories I’d heard of Bigfoot—if Bigfoot carried spears, lived on an alien planet, and ate its enemies.

Now, here I am. Tossed over the lap of one of these alien nightmares, his rancid-meat stench rolling over me as he rides through the forest on Sorrin’s eponir.

Kaja bucked and shrieked when the big beast first climbed on top of her, trying her best to dislodge him, but a deep growl and a stab of his claws had sent her bolting. Now, her hooves fly over the tangled ground, the jarring rhythm sending shocks of pain through me with each bounce.

The Pugj’s claws are razor-sharp, pressing into my flesh like a warning and his massive arm is a hard bar holding me down. At first, I tried fighting back, hitting him with my fists and struggling to get free, but it did little good against the thick fur and rough hide of my captor. My blows were as effective as a mouse squaring off against a dinosaur—an apt analogy for this planet.

When he jabbed his claws deep into my thigh and drew blood, then pressed them against my throat as a silent promise, I stopped, ready to sit back and bide my time.

I’m not dumb, contrary to recent behavior. I may have already broken the first cardinal rule of surviving a kidnapping—never let your abductor take you to a second location—but one of the next rules is to stay calm. Act compliant and keep your eyes open for the chance to escape.

So, that’s what I’m doing. Waiting. Watching. And ignoring the panic clawing at my insides.

I keep telling myself the warriors will come after me. Sorrin will come. His overbearing grin and loud laugh might drive me up a wall, but he wouldn’t let me get dragged off like this. He’s too stubborn not to. He’ll come charging in, just to rub it in my face later that he was the one who rescued me.

If he survived.

But he had to, they all did. It’s hard to imagine anything besting the muscle-bound warriors and their sharp blades.

The battle flashes through my mind—all those Pugj, each bigger than the last, against only five warriors. My stomach churns, and a sob burns in my throat. No. They survived. He survived. He had to.

I try my best to stay calm. To slow down my racing heart and the panicked breath rushing in and out of my lungs. Each time Kaja bounds over another root, my entire body bounces hard, and my stomach is constantly being jolted inside me.

I’ll probably be covered in bruises by tomorrow. If I’m still alive tomorrow.

No. My mind shies away from those thoughts. I will survive this.

I’ve survived an alien abduction and a spaceship crash on a remote planet. Hell, I’ve survived fucking overgrown big birds attacking our ship. If I can survive all that, I can survive being taken by a wannabe Bigfoot.

Blood rushes to my head and between the rough, jostling ride and the overpowering stench rolling off the Pugj’s greasy fur combined with the acrid scent of the trees that surround us, the nausea I felt earlier returns with a vengeance. Saliva floods my mouth and my throat burns. I know exactly what’s about to happen, and I don’t fight it.

I puke up everything in my stomach. It’s awful, and my throat is raw afterwards. But a vicious grin stretches across my face because I turned my head at the right moment and vomited right onto my captor’s hairy leg, drenching his gray shaggy fur in barf.

But he must be used to foul smells following him around because he doesn’t seem to even notice. Not even a flinch. I suck in a deep breath, feeling a tiny bit better after vomiting, but then I sag as reality hits me again. What the fuck am I going to do now?

If only I had the shiv Crystal gave me, but I don’t. It’s tucked safely away in my satchel, which is still secured to the back of the saddle, just out of my reach.

Time seems to speed up and everything around me begins to blur. My head is still hanging over Kaja’s side and my gaze is fixed on the ground flying beneath her cloven hooves. Eventually I notice the change as we leave the Bitter Forest.

The terrain flattens with the twisted roots and dead needles cushioning the forest floor disappearing before my eyes, and Kaja picks up pace, racing faster and faster as the hairy beast digs his clawed feet into her sides. Before long, I notice a flash of bright green beneath us.

It’s the Vex Grasslands. And that gives me an idea.

It’s a terrible plan. But it’s all I’ve got.

When we transversed the grasslands yesterday, the guys told us it was safe to cross, but that we needed to be quiet just in case. So as not to trigger a stampede. What if... Can I scream or make a ruckus of some sort just enough to get the massive dicro herd to startle?

I glance up and notice that in the distance, I can see the beginnings of the dicro herd, with animals placidly grazing. Kaja instinctively veers to the right, keeping to the edge of the herd, but I hope it won’t matter.

Not with this big of a herd.

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to slow down my breathing and prepare myself. My heart is racing, but I know what I have to do. This might be my only chance to escape.

When I judge the moment to be perfect, I take a deep breath, filling my lungs up, then I scream. I scream so loud and so long it feels as if something tears in my throat.

Kaja nearly stumbles, and the wannabe Bigfoot jerks, his claws digging deeper into me. But I keep screaming until my throat feels like it’s on fire. Like it’s being shredded into pieces.

And it works. Sort of.

The stampede starts slowly at first with the nearest dicros raising their heads and staring at me with wide eyes like they can’t believe what the crazy human is doing. And just when I think it won’t work, they begin to panic and run.

And it’s like a line of dominoes falling as more of the animals startle, until a large group of them are running, desperate to get away. It’s not even a quarter of the herd, maybe only a couple hundred dicro.

But it’s enough to have a ripple effect.

The spindly-legged dicros surge, heading towards us, and Kaja, already fearful, races alongside the small stampede I’ve managed to trigger, her hooves barely touching the ground now. I can feel myself sliding across her back as the thick arm that was thrown over me loosens, and I close my eyes as the ground seems to rise up.

But then with a gasp, I feel the Pugj’s claws dig into my skin harder as he jerks me upright, shaking me. The wind whips around us and my hair blurs my view as he tries to get Kaja under control, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve spotted my chance.

I seize the distraction, and with adrenaline coursing through my veins, I twist my body, reaching my arm around and behind the bulky alien Bigfoot. My fingers scrabble for the satchel secured to the saddle, but they slip off. I grunt as I realize he’s almost managed to steer Kaja away from the other animals.

I try again and with one last desperate reach I manage to unhook the flap. Sticking my hand inside the bag, it only takes a split second before my fingers make contact with the fabric-wrapped handle and I pull out the weapon Crystal gave me.

The blade, comprised of a sharp piece of shrapnel from our crashed ship, gleams in the sunlight, and as soon as it’s firmly in my hand, I don’t hesitate. With another scream, I plunge it into the Pugj’s hairy arm.

He howls, releasing me, and I tumble off Kaja’s back, hitting the ground hard.

The breath is knocked out of me and my vision is blurry, but I know I have to hurry. Ignoring the pain, I scramble to my feet and lurch forward.

We’re along the edge of the grasslands still, and the stampede has almost died down. But the nearest dicros watch me, their panicked eyes reflecting my own fear, as if they’re waiting to bolt. I have to get out of here before they do.

I sprint toward the line of trees, adrenaline giving me a burst of speed that I’ve never had before, hoping maybe I can lose my pursuer in the thick jungle. Just as I reach it, the Pugj gains on me and he lunges, his thick hands just missing me by a few inches as I veer to the left.

My lungs are burning as I pant and my heart pounds like a loud drumbeat in my ears, drowning out nearly everything else. Except the deep guttural growl of his voice.

He snarls, his fangs flashing in the light, as he lunges forward again. But I’m ready and I’m still clutching the shiv in my hand. I thrust the sharp blade into his side, aiming for what I hope is a vital spot. He howls again, and staggers, dark blood trickling out to stain his already dirty fur.

I turn, ready to escape into the jungle and hide, but as I take a step forward a roar pierces the air and I realize my luck has run out.

The Pugj lunges forward again, and this time, he knocks me to the ground and my weapon goes flying through the air landing several feet away. One massive arm wraps around me, encasing me, while the other swings back, and with one powerful blow against my head, darkness closes in.

***

I don’t know how long I was unconscious, but when I finally wake up, it’s dark and we’re racing through the jungle. This time on foot.

My head pounds and I feel like I’m going to be sick again, but I urge the bile back down. The bioluminescent vines and leaves of the foliage around me blur, and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing everything to settle down.

That’s when I notice the thick, braided ropes binding my wrists and ankles. My jaw aches from the makeshift gag pressed against my mouth—a giant leaf wrapped in more vines. This fucking asshole.

I’m tossed over the shoulder of the hairy beast and with each step he takes I bounce against his shoulder, but I don’t dare react. Let him think I’m still unconscious and helpless.

It feels like we travel for hours, but I’m not sure because I drift in and out of consciousness, darkness pulling me under and spitting me back out. After a while, he slows to a walk until finally, with a grunt, he tosses me to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Pain shoots through my side as I land, but I bite back a sound, glaring up at him.

Is this it? Is he going to eat me now?

With a snarl and a pointed look, my captor stalks off to a nearby stream, bending to drink.

I sit there, propped up against a fallen log and staring at the glowing foliage around me, wallowing in the hopelessness that makes my throat tight with unshed tears of frustration. With a sigh, I tilt back my head and look up at the night sky. There they are—the Sister Moons, their blue glow just visible between the crowded treetops.

My thoughts drift to Sorrin. His arrogant grin flashes in my mind, but then I remember his face from last night—serious and almost reverent as he told the story of Maia and Diierr.

He's such a cocky guy, but in that moment, he didn’t seem that way. The overly-confident grin was gone from his face. And later, when I mentioned my mom, there was no mistaking the concern glowing from his eyes. Nor was there any mistaking how he had gently cupped his hands around my waist this morning when he helped me get on Kaja.

As I stare up at the Sister Moons, I can almost hear his voice telling me to keep fighting. To not give in to my fear.

A bitter laugh bubbles up in my throat. Fighting? Look at me now. Bound, gagged, and at the mercy of Bigfoot over there. I glance at the Pugj, who’s still drinking water from the stream. I know better than to try anything stupid. If I tried to escape now, he would be on me before I could even make it to my feet.

But I can leave a trail. And maybe, just maybe, if any of the warriors come to find me, they’ll spot it. It’s not much, but it’s the only plan I have right now.

Keeping one eye on my captor as he drinks his fill from the stream, I dig the heels of my sneakers into the ground beneath me trying to disturb the soil so that it’s obvious to anyone searching that I was here. But not so obvious to Bigfoot. I don’t want him getting wise to what I’m doing.

The wound on my thigh has already stopped bleeding, but I press my nails into it, reopening it. A sharp sting flares, but I welcome it. As unobtrusively as I can, I rub the fresh blood against a clump of leaves. It’s faint, but maybe it’ll be enough for the Laediriians to track. Their sense of smell is sharp, and I have to hope they’re looking for me.

The Pugj finishes drinking and stalks back, grabbing me like I weigh nothing. Back over his shoulder I go, bouncing painfully with every step.

The night stretches into day, and my captor travels at a fast pace, moving quickly through the jungle. My mouth feels like sandpaper, and my stomach growls loud enough that even Bigfoot grunts in irritation. But he doesn’t offer me water or food, of course. I focus on staying awake, scanning my surroundings for anything familiar, but the jungle looks different now.

The trees thin out, and the foliage shifts in color and density. This doesn’t look like Anuriix territory. Just as I have that thought, I hear shouting. My pulse spikes. Where the hell am I?

Not Anuriix territory, that’s for sure. Or at least, not what I’ve seen of it.

We pass through wooden gates, thrown wide open, and into a village. I can’t see much from my awkward position, but voices echo around us. A few of them the guttural snarls of other Pugjs, but the other voices...for a split second, they give me hope.

The other voices are smooth and deep with a lyrical quality that reminds me of laughing gray eyes. The other voices belong to Laediriians!

But the hope growing in my chest is quickly dashed when the voices draw near and congratulate Bigfoot on his capture of a female and then direct him where to put me.

Shit. I should have known. It’s the Tussoll tribe. Chief Daggir was right—they’re allied with the Pugj. Thoughts race through my head as I try to remember everything I’ve heard about the other tribe.

I never really paid much attention to the talk surrounding what’s going on among the the different tribes on this planet other than enough to know that there’s some bad blood between them. It’s just my luck to get thrown into the middle of some tribal conflict. As my mom would say, “ If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”

Bigfoot carries me into a building, the air cooling immediately as we enter. Warm, polished wooden walls surround me, and the floor glimmers with blue stone veined with gold. The door swings shut behind us, muting the noises outside.

“Set the female there,” a low, growling voice commands.

Bigfoot doesn’t hesitate, dumping me on the floor with a thud that rattles my teeth, before removing my gag. Pain jolts through my body, but I bite back a whimper.

I quickly glance around the room, noting several other aliens. My gaze darts over them, taking in every detail as quickly as possible.

Another Pugj looms near the door, his massive, shaggy frame impossible to ignore. He stands with an air of authority, so I immediately nickname him Chief Bigfoot in my head. Then, there are five Laediriians—two flanking a chair that looks suspiciously like a throne, standing stiff and expressionless like guards, and one seated like royalty. Another sits on a chair near the first, with his own guard at his shoulder.

The two warriors standing on either side of the throne catch my attention first. My gaze snags on one of them, a massive figure almost rivaling the bulk of the Pugj. A wicked scar carves its way from his broad forehead, slicing through his brow ridge, down past one milky white eye, and bisecting his wide mouth. The scarred Laediriiian’s presence alone is enough to make me uneasy. He doesn’t move or speak, but his sheer size and the harshness of his face scream danger.

The other Laediriians are… different. At first glance, they share the features I’ve come to associate with Draggar’s tribe: shades of blue-green skin, silver hair—some with teal highlights, elf-like ears, raised ridges instead of eyebrows, and those fascinating armored ridges.

But these guys are a little different. They’re smaller. Almost puny in comparison. Their muscles lack the bulk and definition I’m used to seeing on the warriors from the Anuriix tribe. They don’t look like gym bros, more like… well, guys who skipped leg day. Even their height is off, only a few inches taller than the average human man.

My eyes dart to the one seated on the throne, and immediately, a cold shiver creeps down my spine. Unlike the others, this Laediriiian doesn’t bother with simplicity. He’s draped in what looks like blue silk, the fabric flowing over his frame like a toga, leaving one shoulder bare. His posture is relaxed, almost too casual, but the calculated intensity in his cold eyes tells me he’s dangerous. Everything about him screams control and arrogance.

It’s clear who he is. This is Haavor, the chief of the Tussoll tribe.

And he’s seated on an intricately carved chair. A throne.

The longer I study him, the more my unease grows. There’s something... off. The other Laediriians defer to him like he’s more than a chief, and when his lips curl into a sneer, it all clicks into place.

He’s not just leading a tribe. He thinks he’s leading everyone.

Fucking hell, it’s alien Nero.

Then, he opens his mouth and confirms exactly that.

“Female,” he announces, his voice dripping with smug authority. “I am Haavor, the chief of the Tussoll tribe.” He spreads his arm wide in an almost royal flourish and pauses as if he expects me to applaud or something.

Maybe he wants me to bow or curtsy. Yeah, I’m not doing that.

When I don’t react, his face hardens and he continues his introduction, “And the supreme leader of all Laediriians.”

Haavor sits back with a smug sneer on his face, obviously proud of his title. His make-believe title.

From everything I’ve learned about the people on this planet, there are no supreme leaders. There aren’t any presidents or prime ministers or kings or emperors. Instead, each tribe is led by a chief who is usually chosen by the tribal members, and each chief is only responsible for their own tribe. Not the entire species.

I arch an eyebrow skeptically. “And? Am I supposed to be impressed?”

His face darkens and his heavy brow draws down until his eyes are shadowed.

“ You are supposed to get down on your knees and thank the Goddesses I haven’t had your inferior self thrown to the Pugj.”

Chief Bigfoot grunts, a deep, guttural sound that makes my skin crawl, and I eye him warily. His hulking frame radiates menace, every muscle coiled like a predator ready to strike. There’s a flicker in his shadowed eyes as he watches Haavor—a flicker that screams deception. I’d bet my last two cents—which I don’t have—that the Pugj are planning to double cross Haavor and his tribe.

Beside Haavor, the scarred warrior shifts, the faintest movement that somehow pulls my attention like a magnet. His gaze meets mine, and for the briefest moment, something in his expression hits me like a jolt. Unease. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but I’ve spent years analyzing interrogation footage for my podcast. I know how to spot someone holding back, even when they’re trying to hide it. Even when they’re an alien.

He doesn’t look like a man who agrees with this alliance or with any of it.

“With our combined strength the Anuriix tribe will fall,” Haavor continues, drawing my attention back to him. His words carry across the room like a death knell. “They’re the strongest tribe on this planet, and they stand in our way.”

He leans forward as though savoring every word that leaves his mouth. “Once they’re eliminated, every Laediriian on this planet will bend a knee to the Tussoll tribe. To me. ” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, his gaze raking over me from head to toe. “And all of the females will be ours.”

My stomach churns at his words, a mix of disgust and fear clawing at my insides. It’s not just his genocidal plans to exterminate an entire tribe that sickens me—it’s the way he talks about us, as though we’re nothing more than objects to be owned. Property to be taken.

But it’s more than that. It’s the wild, unhinged light in his eyes that makes my skin crawl. He’s dangerous and unpredictable.

When I glance at the scarred warrior, his unease seems more pronounced now, even though he’s trying to mask it. His massive hands clench at his sides and his jaw tightens with tension. He doesn’t agree with this.

The silence thickens, oppressive, until it’s broken by the sharp clearing of a throat, drawing everyone’s attention to the other guy who’s seated in a much smaller throne-like chair. The one that I suspect might be the leader of the Xeniiv tribe based on the tattoos that line his arms. Sevvern. From the talk I’ve overheard, he and his warriors have allied themselves with the Tussoll and the Pugj.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Haavor? Something very important.” Sevvern’s tone is calm, but there’s an unmistakable edge to it—a challenge that sends a ripple of unease through the room.

Haavor narrows his eyes, his expression hardening. “What are you talking about?”

Sevvern sneers, the corners of his mouth curling into something cold and calculating. “My role in all of this. My warriors’ role. The Xeniiv tribe has not sacrificed so much without a guarantee of reward.” His gaze locking with Haavor’s. “You may dream of ruling this planet, but don’t think for a second you’ll achieve it without us.”

The tension spikes between the two men as they stare at each other. The Pugj leader, Chief Bigfoot, watches the exchange in silence, a dark smile tugging at his lips as though he’s already playing out how to pit them against each other.

I glance at the scarred warrior again. His gaze is trained on Sevvern and Haavor, and while his expression remains neutral, there’s something in the tightness of his muscles that tells me he’s watching this conflict closely.

There’s way more going on here than just an alliance, and these so-called allies are teetering on the edge of tearing each other apart.

And if I can survive long enough, I might just figure out how to use that to my advantage.