Vanished with the Alien: A SciFi Fated Mates Romance (Antasun's Alien Castaways Book 2) by Roxy Nash

Author:Roxy Nash [Nash, Roxy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: A SciFi Fated Mates Romance, needs an amazon review
Publisher: Roxy Nash
Published: 2022-12-21T05:00:00+00:00

○● CHAPTER 19 ●○

Rowan

Oh shit, oh fuck, I’ve lost him. I broke his heart and now he’s gone, he’s fallen, he’s hit his head again and those creatures will eat him and I’ll never have a chance to explain how I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I cling to the branch and I cry, hot tears tracking down my face and dropping to the ground. Down where he lies. Please don’t be dead. Please be okay. How am I going to get to him from here?!

Sounds rise from the jungle floor. Chittering. Please, please don’t be nocturnal bugs. I force myself to kneel and look for the next branch down. It’s dizzying, peering over the edge. I grip my perch until my finger joints hurt. But I’ve got to go. I kick my pack down first, then slip my body over the side of my branch, holding tight with both of my arms. I stretch my legs and search with my toes, and yes! I can reach! I drop down.

The descent is arduous. I don’t know where I summon the strength or the energy. I’m not athletic in the first place, and I truly thought that I was done. Completely wrung out. I had nothing left. But I slip down the tree one slow branch at a time, chanting to myself the whole way, “I’m sorry. Please live.” Because I can’t lose him.

Is that what this lurou thing is? Being bound together? It’s an alien marriage in a way. That’s fine, that’s all fine, as long as he just lives!

My arms are on fire and my fingers are bleeding by the time I drop to the ground. I spot the two creatures before I spot Trecol - they’re hunched over him, prodding him.

“Hey!” They turn their fuzzy heads to me. Shit. I did not think this through.

“It’s okay!” Trecol wheezes. He’s alive! I shout his name and I pitch forward, but I stop myself. Those creatures are cocking their heads and looking right at me. Trecol remains on his back, but he waves a hand in the air. “They don’t bite!”

One chitters. The other shuffles to me, using it’s what, wing elbows? And a pair of hamster-like feet to get close enough to sniff me. I remain frozen. How sure is he that they don’t bite?

But then I see it when it squeaks at me. This labrador-sized bat-hamster has no teeth.

In fact, it doesn’t even have an actual mouth? It has, like, a filter where teeth and tongue ought to be. It makes me think of a humpback whale. No claws, either, I note. So I gently push past them and rush to Trecol’s side.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt anything? Break anything?” I kneel and hover my hands over him, not sure where to even start examining him. He hit the ground so hard! He’s still trying to catch his breath and my frantic questions probably aren’t helping, but I can’t stand the thought of him being hurt.

And oh god, we will never get out of this place if he can’t walk!

I ask the question I’m dreading.

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