Page 75 of Made For The Alien Warrior

The other warriors dipped their heads and strode away.

Symphony stared the terros down. He had saved her and Tiegan from the evil wasps, but it didn’t mean she trusted him. After all, he hadn’t said a word when the Healer chose to save that other Plutonian before he saved Tiegan.

“It is not what you think,” the terros murmured, his voice deep and measured.

“How do you know what I think? Do Plutonians read minds now?”

He chuckled. “I see you have not calmed.”

She glared at him.

“The Healer is working on both Tiegan and the other warrior.”

“At the… at the same time?” A crinkle formed between her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“He did not make a choice of one over the other. He is healing them both.”

“But what if sharing his attention leads to Tiegan not recovering?”

The Plutonian tilted his head. “What is your relationship with Tiegan?”

“Why is that any of your business?”

He folded his arms over his chest, drawing her eyes to the tattoos swirling on his dark blue skin. Her eyes casually skipped over the patterns before something in her brain froze. Whipping her head back, she stared intensely at the markings.

“Let me ask another question then,” the terros said, walking calmly toward her. “How did you hit the warrior with such force that he broke his spine?”

She narrowed her eyes, barely listening to his words. Mentally, she traced the design imprinted on his blue skin. She had seen that pattern before.

Symphony sucked in a sharp breath when it hit her.

Tiegan.

A few nights ago, she held him on the bed and traced his tattoos. She’d taken her time, running her hand over each one and, somehow, committing it to memory.

That night, Tiegan told her that only those who shared his bloodline should have similar patterns on their bodies. If that was true then…

She stiffened and stared at the terros with fresh eyes. Who was he and how was he related to Tiegan?

Twenty-Nine

Tiegan

Tiegan’s eyesopened with a start. Liquid pressed against his back, pushing him as if it intended on nudging him up to the ceiling. A cool breeze tickled his chin and ears.

He sucked in a sharp breath and pain spliced his body. Where was he? What had happened?

Tiegan blinked and, suddenly, it all rushed back to him. The mission to inspect the rarexelanflora. The sudden attack by rogue Plutonian warriors. Symphony getting dragged away. The ontenta swarm.

He inhaled again, wondering why breathing hurt so much. Tiegan slowly tried to move other parts of his body. First his hands and then his legs. Liquid sloshed around him, noisily gurgling in his ear. He realized that he was floating in the sacred damas.

How strange. If he’d been seen by the Healer, why did it still hurt?

“I would not advise you to move around,” the Healer said.

Tiegan went still. “Where is Sim-pony?”

“That is your first question?”

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