Owned By The Alien Primal (Loving My Alien Warrior Book 1) by Athena Storm

Author:Athena Storm [Storm, Athena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Athenaverse Press
Published: 2022-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Three

Symon

My bag bounces against my hip and upper leg in sync with my strides. It’s a pleasant weight and it feels me with a feeling of accomplishment. I know the elders back in Ankwe will be pleased with this haul of resangi. Hopefully, they can eke it out as long as possible. Or better still, grow some of their own from this collection.

What I don’t feel great about is Z’s continued campaign to shut me out. Or maybe not me, per se, but any thought that perhaps our friendship might be…. more than that?

Who am I kidding? I can barely articulate it in my own mind. Zagiri, who is as stubborn as a Drokan grandmother, would have even more of a problem. Unless she…

Are you really going to say it?

Unless she feels like me and can’t deny it anymore.

As we walk, this feeling sinks deeper and deeper into my psyche, my bones, my blood. As scary as it is – and it’s downright terrifying to even contemplate – my blossoming feelings for Z feel right. They are frightening because they are new. They represent change and who likes change, really?

Our walk continues in silence. Z’s face is obscured and looking into the middle distance. She walks near me but she feels a million pecors away.

I try not to be offended. I can’t somehow. Because now that I’ve acknowledged these feelings – or at least, the start of them – I feel a great weight lifting off me. A weight I never knew was there.

My shoulders pull back, freed from the invisible burden that held them down. My head sits taller on my spine. I walk with purpose. To what, I cannot tell, but a purpose nonetheless.

“You trying to grow taller?” Z says and it jolts me. I wasn’t aware she was paying attention.

“Uh, no. Just looking ahead. Guess it makes me taller…to human pipsqueaks, that is.”

She grunts a laugh and we continue in silence. Whatever feelings I have for her, I’ll have to deal with somehow. She’s not ready to confront them. The thought of what she would say if I forced it upon her is too painful to contemplate so I leave that alone. For now.

I’m grateful the rocks that conceal the hut appear. Coming back to Yyri will be a distraction from all these thoughts.

Turns out, they will distract me in more ways than one.

Approaching the door to the hut, I knock the prescribed secret knock to let Yyri know we aren’t bad guys (which is weird when I think about it, given who Yyri is) and receive only a faint ‘yeah’ in response.

The air that greets me as I walk in is stale, mixed with something else – the smell of flesh suffering. My nose wrinkles at it, even as I recognize its significance. Yyri is not doing well.

Z follows close behind and continues past me, straight to Yyri’s leg. He has resumed his pallid color and sweat runs down his face. The vial of elixir is empty but he clutches it in his hand as if it would give him strength or a respite from pain.

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