Page 33 of Alien Warlord's Fury
"We are," he said. "Staying hidden. Staying alive."
"You know what I mean."
His chest rose and fell in a silent sigh. "I do."
The patrol's voices grew louder again, passing near our hiding spot. We fell silent, tension of a different sort filling the tiny space. Nirako's body was coiled with readiness, prepared to fight if we were discovered.
I felt the shift in him—the warrior replacing the man who had just been holding me.
The voices faded once more. Minutes ticked by in silence.
"I think they're gone," I whispered eventually.
"One more sweep," Nirako insisted. "They're being methodical."
I nodded, resigned to spending more time pressed against him in the dark. Not that I minded, exactly—which was part of the problem. Every moment in this cramped space made it harder to ignore what was building between us.
"Tell me about Aerie training," I said, desperate for distraction. "How did you learn to track like this?"
I felt the rumble in his chest before he spoke. "We begin young. Five cycles. First with games—finding hidden objects, tracking animals."
"Five? That's so young."
"The mountains are unforgiving. Survival skills must become instinct."
I tried to picture him as a child, scrambling over rocky terrain, learning to move with the silent grace that now seemed as natural to him as breathing.
"Were you always good at it?" I asked.
A soft sound that might have been a laugh vibrated through his chest. "No. I was impatient. Like you."
"I'm not—" I began automatically, then stopped. "Okay, maybe a little."
"A little," he agreed, amusement coloring his voice.
The patrol passed by one final time, further away now, voices fading into the distance. Still, Nirako made no move to release me.
"I think they're really gone this time," I said.
"Yes." His arm remained around my waist.
I should have pulled away. Should have insisted we get moving again. But the warmth of him, the solid presence at my back, felt like safety in a world that had offered precious little of it lately.
"Nirako," I said, my voice barely audible.
"Yes?" His breath stirred my hair.
"Why did you really come with me? The whole truth."
His silence stretched so long I thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough.
"Because I couldn't let you face this alone. Because something in me recognized something in you from the moment we met. Because—" He broke off, his arm tightening fractionally around me.
"Because the thought of you in danger tears at something inside me I didn’t know existed."
My breath caught. The admission hung in the air, more intimate than the press of our bodies in the dark.
"We should go," he said abruptly, releasing me. "While the patrol is far enough away."
