Page 34 of Cherished By the Alien Outlaw

His armor scraped against stone; every sound amplified as he moved deeper into the passage.

Talia’s wild eyes met mine, and she shook her head. There was nothing we could do but wait a bit and hope he either returned and entered another passage or continued through. He couldn’t know we were here, or he would’ve shouted or attacked us.

We’d take care as we followed and look for him with each step we took.

I leaned against the boulder and tugged Talia into my arms, holding her until her trembles stopped. Kissing the top of her head, I pinched my eyes closed before opening them again.

Another challenge, but we’d take it on and win.

The pulse in my ears quieted, but I didn’t release Talia. We needed this moment to remind each other of how lucky we were to have made it this far.

And how much we cared for each other.

We waited longer than I liked. The rebellion upstairs could be over already and Brax and his friends could be dead. If so, the guards would see we were gone, and they’d hunt us.

“Ready?” I dared to whisper, and she nodded. She eased out of my arms and straightened, holding out her hand to take mine.

We moved quickly to the passage leading to the surface and paused, listening but not hearing anything to suggest the guard was coming back this way.

Then we stepped into the dark tunnel, our only chance at freedom.

Chapter 17

Talia

As we moved deeper into the passage, the walls closed in. My breath quickened, and a spike of fear shot through me. I could handle a lot, I had handled a lot, but narrow spaces never failed to send terror clawing through my mind. The tunnel seemed to squeeze around us, the shadows from the stone walls pressing in on all sides. Each step became an ordeal. It was all I could do to resist the urge to flee back the way we’d come.

For days, I’d found a way through this, but now when it was vital that we remain quiet, that we move quickly through the passage, I could barely breathe or think.

We stooped lower as the ceiling descended, forcing us to almost drop to our hands and knees to avoid hitting our heads. The tight space grew smaller, strangling my wind in my throat. My heart thumped in my chest, echoing in my ears. Each breath I took seemed to bounce back at me, growing louder, quicker, as panic tried tocarry me away. My world shrank to the press of stone on all sides, and an all-encompassing fear gripped my limbs, freezing me in place.

I stopped, unable to go any farther. I couldn't make myself move. The memory of every tight, suffocating space I'd ever encountered rose to choke me. My pulse hammered in my throat, blocking out everything except the terror spiraling inside me. My hands trembled as I pressed them against the cold stone, the solid rock giving me no comfort. It only reminded me of how trapped I was.

Firion stopped with me, his gaze protective and unwavering in the dim light. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. The closeness of the tunnel echoed every sound, and the fear of being caught by the guards weighed on us both. But when he opened his arms, offering the sanctuary I so desperately needed, I collapsed into him. He dropped to the floor, and I cuddled against his firm chest. He seemed to suck in the quakes of my body, and the strength radiating from him helped anchor me, even as my fear kept spiraling inside me.

His warmth seeped through my clothes and into my bones. The reassurance of his touch bled into my scattered thoughts, pulling me from the brink of a full-blown panic attack. His arms remained secure around me, his grip just right, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

I screwed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead against his chest, focusing on his even breathing. The steady thrum of his heart. He wouldn’t let anything harm me. Firion was my lifeline, my protector. The stonecouldn’t break me as long as he held me. With the rhythm of his heartbeat steady and solid in my ears, I gathered my courage, bunching it into something I could cling to when we started moving again.

We stayed like that for moments that stretched on until the shakes wracking my body started to slow. The suffocating feeling of the passage lurked on the edges of my mind, but with Firion's solid presence, I could draw in a steady breath. We needed to move, needed to keep our focus on escape, but I’d take these few seconds to find the calm I desperately needed.

Firion's hand slowly moved up to my nape, and his fingers threaded gently through my hair. A simple gesture, but one that spoke volumes. He was here with me, for me. No words were needed.

Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to open my eyes, to see Firion’s face inches from my own, strong and unwavering, his gaze lingering on mine with a promise I couldn’t resist grabbing onto. I nodded, the motion small, but it was all the assurance I could offer that I was ready to move forward, to keep fighting.

His lips brushed my forehead in a barely-there kiss as he gently loosened his hold on me. We got to our feet, and he kept one arm around my waist, guiding me as we moved together through the narrowing tunnel. The stone walls still pressed in on me, but Firion’s hand on my back was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. With him, I found the strength to take one step, then another.

The passage twisted and turned in the blackness, butFirion led us onward with steady, measured steps, keeping us close to the side where the walls curved slightly outward, giving us even a few more inches of breathing space. His body remained attuned to mine as if he sensed when my resolve stumbled, and my confidence frayed under the weight of the narrow tunnel.

In the distance, the tunnel ahead seemed to widen, and a glimmer of light urged me forward. Each step became marginally easier, the air, though still stifling, smelled fresher and felt less oppressive.

The passage gradually widened, and we could stand upright. The weight that had been bearing down on my chest began to lift, and for the first time since we entered the tunnel, I sucked in a breath that didn’t make my lungs ache.

Finally, we emerged into a large chamber. The noticeably cooler air carried a faint metallic scent that mingled with the familiar tang of crysthron. My eyes strained to adjust to the flickering, muted glow from insects scattered across the ceiling.

The processing area stretched in front of us, stone walls giving way to sleek metal machinery in an eerie blend of primitive and advanced technology. Conveyor belts spanned the room, likely designed by the Veerenads for sorting and packaging the crystals we mined. The belts hummed with a low, mechanical murmur, winding in serpentine pathways across the room. Clusters of crysthron, shiny and raw, sat in piles near the belts, waiting to be processed.

To my left, towering metal containers stood ready totransport crystals. The containers were large enough to hold several tons each, and the sight of them filled me with a sense of urgency. We had to get out of here before the crew arrived to start working or we ran into a guard.

---