Page 52 of Treasured By the Alien Rogue

“How many Veerenads live in their city?”

“Thousands.”

Her breath caught. “It’s a good thing they’re friendly.”

Most of the time. But they were far from here, and I doubted Amanda would ever meet them unless she chose to travel with me the next time I went trading.

“If you’ll come with me,” Gerain told Amanda, easing around us, striding through the deep grass toward the woods with Floosar by her side.

Amanda shot me a smile before scooting forward to catch up and walk behind them.

I followed them like a drettire pup.

Gerain led us into the woods, taking the main path weaving around the huge trees. The wind rustled my hair and held a crispness that added energy to my steps.

Floosar followed her mother with Amanda behind them both, and I took the rear for protection, keeping my spear ready. We weren’t being particularly quiet, but we didn’t need to be. Nothing dangerous would come near the village, not only because it would rightly believe we’d defend ourselves, but because our guards were always watching.

As we passed beneath a large branch overhanging the trail, I waved to Efendest perched above on a branch, holding his own vine spear. Others would be hiding in similar places encircling our village.

Gerain reached the small meadow where she and Floosar cultivated various plants and approached the center. I’d helped her construct the raised garden a few years ago, hauling dirt and smooth, flat rocks, placing them to her specifications. She’d planted things within the structure, and they thrived, some releasing sweet scents, others putting all their energy into their blossoms.

“Here we are,” she said, stopping beside the structure that was nearly as tall as her and equally wide.

“This is beautiful,” Amanda said, walking around it, pausing to lean forward to study one plant or another.

“Xax made it for us,” Floosar said, smiling my way. Growing up here, I’d wondered if she and I would mate, since we were about the same age. But the mark didn’t appear on either of our hands, and it was clear she didn’t see me as anything more than a friend. I felt the same, and I was relieved when she expressed this one time while we sat near the fire on a chilly evening with the rest of our clan.

I’d visited other clans to see if the gods would show me that one of the females living elsewhere was the one I could love for a lifetime, but the mark hadn’t appeared with any of them either.

After that, I thought I’d never find a mate.

A mating mark still hadn’t appeared to show me Amanda was my fated one, yet in my heart, I knew. There would never be another for me but her.

“This is gorgeous, Xax,” Amanda said.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes gleamed as she continued to study the structure, and pride surged through my veins, followed by a hollow ache I’d never be able to fill.

It hurt to think of her mating with another, of her loving him and one day being blessed with his young.

How could the gods appear to gift her to me then take her away?

Perhaps I would have to travel to other clans again. If the gods said Amanda was not my chosen one, I wasn’t sure I could remain here and watch someone else claim her. She had a say in this, of course. Everyone’s words held equal weight in my clan. But if the gods spoke against me, Digaray would not support my claim.

All I could do after that was fight to make sure Amanda maintained her independence. I’d help her germinate a spore she could live in alone if that was her wish. I’d craft whatever she needed. Hunt for her. Gather roots and plants, and construct pretty gardens around her shroom, adding places where she could sit and admire the flowers. Drink her favorite tea.

Dream.

But if I was denied, no one would say she should live in my shroom with me if she was destined for another.

Chapter 24

Amanda

Xax had built a gorgeous rock garden. Flat rocks of various sizes had been artfully arranged, stacked on each other in a way that not only maintained the stability of the structure, but offered small nooks and openings where Gerain and her daughter could place dirt and plants. From the lushness of the vegetation, I suspected he’d done this for them some time ago.

He’d also built a gorgeous tea house for me, putting his heart into the way it was constructed, his sharp intelligence into the placing of the stools and tables, and his flare for art when he coaxed the vines from the woods and had them weave themselves into a colorful, floral mesh that would serve as decorative walls.

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