Page 4 of Fated to the Alien Hero (Warriors of Tavikh #7)

Astrid

Voices make their way into my consciousness. There’s a dull throbbing over my entire body. It takes me a few seconds of searching my brain before I remember why. Grady and me out in the forest. The punches that rained down. Kicks to my head, stomach, and back. The endless sea of pain that feels fresh, but also like an out of body experience.

I take better stock of my injuries, and aside from the ache in my arm and right ribcage, the worst of it has been managed. The scents that surround me aren’t familiar. Evren and his friends must have gotten me to their village. Remembering the pain and swelling around my eye, I carefully try to open them both again. As before, only one cooperates. While slightly inconvenient, I suppose a single working eye is better than none.

Just as I suspect, I’m in a large, airy tent that has a faint medicinal odor. I turn my head gently. At least my headache has finally gone away. On the other side of the structure are two human women. One is on the curvy side, with long, wavy auburn hair. The other is a blonde who, if I had to guess but would never ask, is pregnant. Not far along, still barely showing.

As though sensing my gaze on them, they both turn my direction. The redhead hurries over.

“Hi there,” she says with a friendly smile. “I’m Sage, one of the healers. That’s London, the shefira of the tribe. How are you feeling? You’ve been out for a couple days.”

Days? Without answering them, I glance around, searching for Evren. I’m disappointed and a little scared he’s not here. Although I’m not sure why he would be. He did what he said he would and got me to his healer. Why I thought he would be with me when I woke is beyond me, especially if it’s been as long as Sage says it has. Of course, I don’t even remember falling asleep. He’d just been so warm and held me so gently, it had been difficult remaining awake.

“Evren went to get cleaned up and grab some food, but he’ll be right back,” the one called London says.

My cheeks warm that she could so easily read my mind.

“Are you hurting anywhere?” Sage asks. “Do you need anything for pain?”

I take another quick stock of myself and decide the pain is tolerable right now. The medicine might help numb everything, but it also makes me drowsy, and I don’t want to sleep again just yet. The disgusting taste might also be a factor.

“Not right now, but thanks.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” Sage says. She and London exchange glances before they focus their attention on me again. “Evren says your name is Astrid?”

“Yes.” Do I volunteer more than that? No, I better not. Keep things simple.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” London smiles brightly, but then it fades. “Too bad it’s not under better circumstances. Can you tell us what happened?”

I pause. What did Evren or the others tell them? For a second, panic flares to life. Did they notify those back at the colony? Is Grady going to come marching in here to take me back? Will he manage to kill me next time? I don’t even realize my breathing is erratic until Sage grips my hand.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one is going to harm you. Just breathe with me. In and out, nice and slow,” Sage coaches.

“What did you do to her?”

I turn at the sound of the male voice, and at the sight of Evren, relief floods me. In his hands are two steaming rough-hewn bowls. He rushes over and sets them down on the platform next to where I’m lying. Sage releases me and takes a step back with her hands held up. I wish he would hold me, but he only remains close enough for his heat to warm my side. Slowly, I get my breathing under control.

“Peace, Evren,” London says softly without a hint of reprimand. “I only asked what happened.”

“I have told you,” he replies. “Astrid was beaten, and for her safety, we must not let anyone at the human settlement know that she has been found or that she is with us. I brought her here for healing and protection.”

“Yes, you did, but I wanted to hear her explanation.”

Although their voices aren’t raised, I don’t like people arguing. “I was outside the colony filling a bucket of water when my…husband came out of the forest where he’d gone hunting earlier in the day.” Is someone your husband anymore if he tried to kill you? I shake off the thought. It's not the time. “He said I was supposed to have been with him, although that wasn’t true. But I didn’t want to make him angry by arguing, so when he told me to come with him, I did. We walked and walked through the trees until an instinct told me something was wrong and I needed to run. By the time I listened, it was too late.”

One would think the tears would come, but perhaps I’ve cried them all out over the last three years, because my eyes remain dry.

“Were you doing anything or saying anything?” Sage asks.

“You mean, did I give Grady a reason to beat me to the point where I nearly died?”

“No! God, no, sorry, that’s not what I meant.” She wrings her hands in a helpless gesture. “I’m so sorry I made it sound like I was blaming you or that you did something to set him off. I apologize for how that came out. I was just trying to get a picture of what was happening at the time. That’s all.”

Guilt pinches me a little, but I ignore it. “Neither of us were doing anything but walking in silence. That’s how Grady prefers me. Silent.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” London says. “I don’t want to assume, but I take it this isn’t the first time he’s laid hands on you?”

I laugh bitterly. “It’s the closest he’s come to killing me over the last three years.”

Beside me, there’s a deep growling sound. I glance over, surprised, to discover it coming from Evren. The swirling lines that cover his arms and shoulders darken in color. His fists clench at his sides. For a brief second, the old familiar fear hits me and I flinch. Horror crosses his face and he takes several quick steps back.

“Please forgive me, keeshla ,” he rasps out. “I would never.”

Helpless, I reach my arm out for him. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would. It was just a reflex.”

Evren’s gaze bounces from my hand to my face before he finally moves forward and lays his palm within mine. Rather, his palm engulfs mine, it’s so big. He’s so big that for once in my life I feel small beside someone. Both our hands and our eyes remain locked until a cough shakes me out of the near trance I’d been in staring at him. I turn toward Sage and London. Their expressions are unreadable, but it almost feels like there’s a bit of judgment in their eyes.

Oh god, is one of them married to Evren?

I snatch my hand from his. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. Is he either of yours husband?”

Both Sage and London cough and choke. Evren gapes. I feel myself flushing. Why do I always say the wrong thing? London recovers first and clears her throat with a soft shake of her head.

“No, neither of us are Evren’s mate,” she says. “My mate is Zander. He’s the shefir—the leader—of the Tavikhi. I believe you met Jodah when Evren found you. Sage is his mate.”

“Oh, okay.” I still don’t understand what I said that made them all act so weird.

“If you’re all right for now, we’ll leave you with Evren,” Sage says.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

The three of them share a passing glance like they’re talking to each other without words before Sage and London walk outside and I’m alone with him. Now that the pain isn’t consuming me, I study Evren more closely. The fading sun offers enough light through the top of the tent to give me a good view.

He’s much younger than I remember, although maybe all the Tavikhi look like they’re in their early twenties. I picture the other three warriors with him when they found me. Jodah and the one without any marks on him looked about Evren’s age, maybe a couple years older, but the fourth warrior definitely had more than five years on him. His face showed a bit more age.

“How old are you?” The question slips out before I can stop it. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

Evren closes the distance between us again until he is right next to me. I rein in the urge to hold his hand again. Don’t want to make things awkward for a second time.

“I have seen twenty-two warm seasons a few turns of the sun ago.”

I’ve been told time passes differently here than it does on Earth, but it’s close enough that it sounds like he just turned twenty-two. We’re the same age then. “Me, too. Although, I don’t really know when my birthday is by a Tavikhi calendar.”

Evren cocks his head. “Calendar? I do not know this word.”

I chuckle self-consciously. “Sorry, yeah, it’s just something back on Earth we used to mark the passing days, months, and years.”

“Perhaps you can teach me how this…calendar of yours works.”

My cheeks heat at the thought of spending that much time with Evren. What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be reacting to him—to any man—in this way. “Sure, maybe.”

“Oh,” Evren exclaims and reaches for the discarded bowls he’d left on the nearby platform. “I cannot believe I forgot. I brought us something to eat. It should still be warm, but if it is not, I will return to the central fire and get you more.”

He moves to hand one to me, but pauses. Oh, yeah, broken arm. Feeding myself is going to be a challenge. I duck my head in mortification.

“May I help you?” he asks quietly. Gently. Kindly.

“Your food will get cold, though.”

“There is plenty more on the fire,” Evren assures me. “I will get a hot portion when you are finished eating.”

“Are you sure?” Grady would never let me eat before him. Never.

“I am most sure.”

It’s either let him help or embarrass myself by probably dumping half the food down my lap. Neither prospect is appealing, but having him feed me will be the least humiliating, I think.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate it.”

Evren inclines his head and sets the second bowl off to the side before spooning out a portion of what appears to be stew. Why can’t it be meat or something I can pick up with my fingers? It has to be something fed to me like I’m a baby.

The first bite is an explosion of flavors. It’s way better than any food I’ve prepared for Grady and me. I know there’s a limited option of spices back at the colony, but this is incredible.

“What is this? It’s delicious.”

“I believe I heard someone say it is leburin stew.” Evren offers me another bite, which I happily take despite not knowing what leburin is. Maybe I’m better off that way.

“It’s really good.”

He smiles, and I can’t help but admire how straight and white his teeth are. It makes me a bit self-conscious about my two crooked top front teeth. I’d wanted to get them fixed, but my dad said they gave my face character.

“I am glad you enjoy it.”

Bite by bite, I slowly finish the stew. It stings the cut on my mouth, but the taste is worth it. Plus, I’m not going to complain about something so insignificant. It’s not the first time I’ve had a split lip, although I pray it’s the last.