Page 5 of Snared (The Legion: Savage Lands Sector #8)
“Oh my god,” I said, torn between horror and amusement. “Let’s put a pin in the hunting thing for now. I just...I need to get my bearings. Figure out where I am, how I got here, how to get home.”
At the mention of home, something shifted in his expression. A shadow passed over his features, too quick to interpret.
“The portal has been unstable for many cycles. It activated for you, but I cannot guarantee it will function again to return you.”
The implication hit me like a physical blow. “You’re saying I might be stuck here? On GL-7?”
“It is possible.”
“No,” I said firmly. “No way. I have a life back home. A brother who will notice I’m missing. A podcast with listeners who’ll wonder why I’ve suddenly ghosted them. I can’t just—” I gestured wildly at the jungle around us, “—disappear into space!”
I tried to stand, but the vines, while looser, still held me securely. Not restraining, exactly, but certainly not letting me storm off in a huff either.
Lor reached out, his large hand hovering just above my shoulder, seeking permission. When I didn’t pull away, he placed it gently on my upper arm, the heat of his palm searing through the thin fabric of my t-shirt.
“I will help you,” he said, the transmission vibrating through both the vine and his touch. “Whether to find a way home or to make a life here. You are my kassari. Your well-being is now my purpose.”
The sincerity in those words, in the golden depths of his eyes, made my throat tighten.
I had always prided myself on being self-sufficient, on never needing anyone.
The thought of this powerful alien warrior declaring himself my protector should have annoyed me.
Instead, it unlocked something in my chest—a door I’d kept firmly closed since my parents’ death.
“I don’t even know you,” I said softly.
His hand moved from my arm to cup my face, the pad of his thumb brushing my cheekbone with surprising gentleness for someone with retractable claws. “Then know this: I will never harm you. I will never lie to you. I am yours as you are mine, by the will of the stars themselves.”
The conviction in his voice—in the feeling that transferred through his touch—was staggering. And absolutely terrifying.
I’d come to this abandoned military bunker looking for a story. Something to boost my podcast numbers, to validate my years of chasing the unexplained. I’d found...this. An alien planet. A sentient jungle. A warrior from another world who believed we were destined for each other.
It was too much. My brain short-circuited, and I did what I always did when overwhelmed—I deflected with humor.
“So, do all ThunderCats have this fate mate thing, or are you special?” I asked, my voice shakier than I’d have liked.
His mouth curved slightly. “All Rodinians. My species. But finding one’s true mate is rare. Many search their entire lives without success.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered, then immediately regretted it when his expression flickered. “Sorry. This is just...a lot to process.”
“I understand. We have time.”
The gentle certainty in those words calmed me somewhat. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding. Just stating a fact: we had time. Whether that was comforting or terrifying remained to be seen.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “First things first. These vines are great and all, but I’d really like to stand up now. I’ve been horizontal for way too long.”
Lor nodded and spoke—actual sounds this time, not just thoughts through the vines. The vibrations felt different, more like commands than communication. Immediately, the vines unwound from my body, sliding away into the undergrowth with surprising speed.
I stood cautiously, my legs wobbly after who knows how long spent wrapped in Phil and friends. Lor rose in a single fluid movement that made me acutely aware of our height difference. I wasn’t short by human standards—5’7” put me solidly in average territory—but next to him, I felt downright tiny.
“So,” I said, looking up at him, “what now?”
Lor surveyed the jungle around us, his senses clearly picking up things mine couldn’t. “First, safety. This area is exposed. Predators will be drawn to your scent.”
“Excuse me?” I automatically sniffed my armpit. “I don’t smell that bad.”
His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “You smell...good. Too good. It will attract attention we do not want.”
There was something in the way he said “good” that sent a flush creeping up my neck. I cleared my throat. “Right. Safety first. Lead the way, Lor Pardus.”
He extended his hand to me again. I hesitated only briefly before taking it.
His palm was warm against mine, his fingers curling carefully around my smaller hand.
The connection through direct touch was even stronger than through the vines—his emotions washing over me in waves.
Concern. Protectiveness. And underneath it all, a banked fire of desire that made my stomach flip.
As we started moving through the dense foliage, the jungle seemed to part before us, making our path easier. Whether that was Lor’s doing or the sentient ecosystem recognizing us, I couldn’t tell.
“So,” I said, ducking under a low-hanging branch, “ThunderCats, Legion Reapers, fate mates, and sentient jungles. Just another Tuesday, right?”
His confusion rippled through our connected hands. “It is the seventh rotation of the third lunar cycle.”
I laughed, the sound startling in the hushed jungle. “It’s an expression. Meaning this is completely insane but I’m trying to roll with it by making it feel basic.”
Understanding dawned. “You use humor as a defense.”
“Wow, direct hit. You’re good at this,” I said, giving him a sidelong glance. “Yes, I joke when I’m freaking out. It’s either that or curl into a ball and hyperventilate, and I’ve found humor gets better results in most situations.”
“A practical strategy,” he agreed, surprising me again with his adaptability.
We walked in silence for a while, my hand still in his. I should have pulled away—it was too intimate a gesture for strangers—but the connection grounded me. Plus, I was reasonably sure I’d face-plant on the uneven jungle floor without his guidance.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked.
“My shelter. It is high in the canopy, safe from ground predators. We can rest there while I assess our options.”
I tried not to focus on the “our” in that sentence. Tried not to think about the implications of sharing a shelter with the very embodiment of my most secret fantasies. Because that’s what he was, wasn’t he? The jungle cat warrior straight out of childhood cartoons and adult dreams.
As if sensing my thoughts, Lor glanced down at me, his golden eyes reflecting patches of sunlight that broke through the canopy. “I will not act on the Unity bond without your consent, Miri. It is enough that you are here, that you are real.”
The sincerity in his words—in the emotions flowing between us—made my chest ache. How long had he been alone here? Hunting a fugitive through an alien jungle, with no companionship but the sentient ecosystem itself?
“Well,” I said, attempting lightness, “at least one of us knows what they’re doing. I’m pretty sure my wilderness survival skills don’t translate to alien jungles with carnivorous plants.”
His hand squeezed mine gently. “You will learn. The jungle responds to intent more than action. It already finds you interesting.”
“Great. So I’m interesting to the scary sentient plants. That’s a win, I guess.”
“It is,” he confirmed, completely serious. “The jungle does not tolerate most outsiders. That it has accepted you so quickly is...significant.”
I pondered that as we continued our trek through the dense foliage. Everything about this situation was significant, apparently. My arrival through a supposedly dormant portal. The jungle’s interest in me. The Unity dream that had connected me to Lor before we ever physically met.
And underneath it all, a nagging sense of rightness that I couldn’t explain or justify. Like some part of me had been waiting for this. For him.
Which was ridiculous. I was a rational person. A skeptical journalist who investigated weird phenomena but always looked for the logical explanation. The scientific answer. The truth beneath the myth.
But as Lor guided me deeper into the alien jungle, his hand warm and sure around mine, I had to admit: some truths might be stranger than any myth I’d ever chased.
And some fates, perhaps, were written in the stars after all.