Page 10

E mily

By the time the first light of dawn filters through the dense jungle canopy, my entire body feels like it’s been rattled loose from the ride.

Dania moves with quiet grace, her hooves silent on the soft, mossy ground, but every jolt sends a fresh wave of pain through my legs and back.

I cling tighter to Vrok. Each sway of the eponir is a harsh reminder of just how far out of my depth I am.

The scent of damp soil and rotting leaves wraps around us, mingling with a spicy scent that I quickly realize belongs to Vrok. It’s an intoxicating fragrance that reminds me of cinnamon and evergreen, like Christmas morning wrapped in leather and steel.

It clings to him, teasing my senses with every breath, making it harder to focus. My fingers twitch against his torso and the hard ridges of muscle beneath my hands. He’s the embodiment of strength and completely at ease in this untamed world while I feel like I’m barely holding on.

A shiver works its way up my spine, though I can’t tell if it’s from the humidity or the crushing weight of what I’ve done. What was I thinking? I’m not ready for this.

But I shove that thought down into the depths of my mind. There’s no room for doubt now. I’ve come too far and risked too much. I’ll keep going, no matter how scared I am, and I’ll do it for Lily.

I lose track of time as we ride, while the jungle blurs into a constant tangle of green and shadows. The sun has long since climbed overhead when Vrok finally slows Dania to a halt.

“We’ll stop here,” he mutters as he dismounts with practiced ease. “The eponir needs water, and we need to rest.”

Before he can reach up to help me, I slide off Dania’s back with far less grace, landing heavily on my feet. My knees nearly buckle, and every muscle in my body screams in protest. A strangled sound escapes me before I can stop it, and Vrok’s head snaps toward me.

He doesn’t comment, but there’s something in his silver gaze—amusement, maybe? Pity? I don’t know because he is so hard to read. Either way, I ignore it and swallow down my pride as I stumble toward a nearby tree for support.

Vrok leads Dania to a shallow stream, moving with quiet efficiency.

His muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin as he loosens the saddle, letting her drink her fill.

Then, he kneels beside her, cupping water in his hands and splashing it along her neck.

His touch is unexpectantly gentle as he strokes her damp fur, murmuring something low and quiet that I can’t quite hear.

The tenderness in his movements catches me off guard.

I cross my arms, pretending not to notice the way my pulse spikes as I watch him. “Don’t you ever get tired?” I ask, more sharply than I mean to.

He doesn’t look up. “No.”

I bite back a retort, already too exhausted to argue. Instead, I take the waterskin he tosses my way and drink deeply, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. To the left, the shrill call of a bird sounds out, and I snap my head around.

“You’re nervous,” Vrok says as he stands to adjust the saddle on Dania’s broad back.

“I’m not used to any of this,” I admit. My fists ball up as I scan the dense jungle around us, expecting something, anything, to leap out at any second.

Vrok snorts. “You humans are soft.” He tilts his head, his cold gaze flicking up to meet mine. “Is this planet really that much deadlier than your own?”

“Yes—” I start, then pause. I think of all the murders and disappearances back on Earth, the ones Mara, our resident true crime afficionado, rattles off like they’re bedtime stories. “In some ways, yes. In other ways, definitely not.”

His brow ridge furrows. “What do you mean?”

I shift, rubbing a hand over my aching thigh. “On Earth, we don’t really have to worry about many wild animals. Humans are at the top of the food chain. There’s nothing out there hunting us. Well, except other humans. The real predators are other people. We have wars, violence, abuse, murder.”

Vrok’s expression darkens. “You kill each other? Even though you are the same species? Why?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s not like here, where survival feels almost pure. Back home, people hurt each other over things like money or power or sometimes, just because they can.”

His lips press into a grim line as he absorbs my words.

“Your world sounds broken,” he says softly.

His tone is more thoughtful than I expected.

“Here, death usually has a purpose. A predator kills to eat, to survive. A warrior kills to defend the tribe. There’s no malice in it, no greed. Not like with humans.”

His words cut deeper than I expected them to. I’m not like some of my friends who can’t stop dreaming about finding a way back to Earth. Aside from the threat of the alien dinosaurs on this planet and the tension with the Pugj, I’m not in any rush to go home.

What would I even be going back to?

A run-down farmhouse my grandparents left me that’s just a hollow shell of what it once was, the surrounding farmland long sold off to cover their mounting medical bills.

A job I hated at Dwight’s Hickory Pit BBQ, the barbecue joint owned by Lily’s ex, where I spent endless shifts handing out Boston butt sandwiches to people who barely looked at me.

All while wearing a uniform that reeked of hickory smoke and fryer grease no matter how many times I washed it.

I don’t miss any of that. Not the aching feet, the endless repairs on a house that was crumbling faster than I could fix it, or the way every day blurred into the next, leaving me with nothing but the hollow ache of life slipping through my fingers.

Failure. That word haunted me back home.

It whispered through my mind as I lay awake at night, staring up at a cracked ceiling.

I’m twenty-nine, and this isn’t what I thought my life would be like.

I thought I’d have a job I actually liked, a happy relationship, and a family. But none of that happened.

Instead, my grandparents got sick right after I graduated high school. They didn’t ask me to take care of them, but I did it anyway. I thought I’d pick up with my plans later, after they got better. But they never did. Time slipped by, and now, I’m almost thirty.

And what do I have to show for it? A CPTSD diagnosis. Not exactly shocking considering my childhood.

It’s strange, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have a purpose. Here, in this wild, unforgiving place, I have something to fight for. Someone to fight for.

Still, it feels disloyal not to point out the good things about my own species.

“It’s not all bad,” I counter. “There’s kindness, too. People who fight for what’s right. Who protect others, who build instead of destroy. People who give their lives to help others, like Haley. She worked for a charity back on Earth.”

Vrok studies me. It’s a slow measured look that makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. Finally, he asks in a low growl, “And which kind are you?”

I blink, startled by his question. “I—I don’t know,” I stammer, suddenly unsure. “I guess I’d like to think I’m one of the good ones.”

His gaze lingers, heat simmering in those inhuman eyes—eyes I can finally see clearly for the first time. Tiny golden flecks glint in the silver of his irises, and his pupils aren’t round like a human’s. They’re elongated and vertical, giving his eyes an almost feline look.

At last, he nods. “Eat,” he says, before tossing me a bag of dried dicro meat. He turns back to Dania without another word, like whatever passed between us has already been dismissed from his mind.

I exhale sharply and sink onto a thick tree root. My stomach churns at the thought of the gamey meat, but I tear off a piece and chew. It’s fuel, and I’ll need every bit of energy to keep going.

Vrok leans against a tree with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his sharp gaze scanning the dense jungle like he belongs to it. He’s completely at ease here, as if the dangers in the jungle don’t faze him at all.

“How much farther?” I ask, hoping for an answer that doesn’t make me want to give up entirely.

“Farther than you’d like,” he says without looking at me. “And the terrain will only get worse.”

I sigh and drag a hand through the tangled strands of hair that have slipped loose from my braid. Sweat clings to my skin, trickling down my back and pooling beneath my breasts. “Great.”

Vrok’s gaze snaps to me. “This isn’t a game, little female. The jungle doesn’t care about you or your cousin. If you’re not ready, it will kill you without hesitation.”

His words sting, but it’s the cold finality in his tone that really pisses me off. Something inside me bristles, and I can feel heat rising in my chest before I even realize what I’m about to say.

“Then, it’s a good thing I have you,” I snap back, surprising even myself with my sharp tone.

He stills. For a split second, a gleam of surprise flickers behind his expression, but it’s gone almost as soon as I recognize it, replaced by that ever-present disdainful scowl.

The old me—the girl who spent years keeping her head down, taking whatever was thrown at her without a fight—would’ve looked away and let it go.

But I don’t. Maybe it’s exhaustion, or maybe it’s that I’ve already survived too much to let someone like him talk down to me like I’m some helpless child.

Either way, I hold his stare, my spine stiffening.

Long seconds pass. The jungle hums around us, alive with the chatter of unseen creatures. Then, just when I start to wonder if I’ve actually managed to stun him into silence, he snorts. It’s a low, dismissive sound, like the idea of me standing up to him is more irritating than surprising.

“Finish eating,” he sneers. “You’ll need your strength for what’s ahead.”

I take another bite of the meat, my resolve hardening with every chew. He may think I’m weak. That I shouldn’t be here. But I am, and I’m not stopping until I find Lily.

I’ll show him.