Page 23 of Alokar
My hands settled on the curve of her waist, fingers spanning the delicate bones beneath her soft cotton shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin through the worn fabric. The universe narrowed to just this moment—the sunlight filtering through pine needles above us, the distant murmur of the creek, the way her breath hitched as I leaned forward. When my lips finally brushed against hers, it was the softest whisper of contact—tentative, reverent, barely more than a shared breath. Her lips were impossibly soft beneath mine, warm and yielding, tasting faintly of the wild strawberries we’d found earlier on the trail. The kiss lasted only heartbeats, but it would be seared into my memory forever as our first—the kiss where she saw the real me, accepted me, trusted me.
A small, breathless gasp escaped her parted lips as I pulled away, her eyes wide and luminous, pupils dilated with something that wasn’t fear but wonder, her cheeks flushed pink in the afternoon light.
“Thank you for tending my wounds,” I said softly, my voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the forest. Her fingers still rested on my bandage, and I could feel the tremor of her pulse, the subtle shift in her breathing that told me this moment—the fragile connection between us—wasn’t lost, but simply hesitant.
I could wait.
Chapter 10
Hannah
We followed the ridgeline, staying on the path that would lead us to Skadulgwas Peak. At least I think we were. My mind wasn’t on the trail or the rocky terrain beneath my boots. It was on Ewok. Specifically, that kiss.
He walked ahead of me, leading Bertha, his powerful shoulders rolling and flexing as he guided her over the uneven ground. I found him utterly gorgeous as a human male, and honestly, now that I knew the real Ewok, my opinion of his attractiveness hadn’t changed. He still ranked as one of the sweetest, considerate, gorgeous men I’d ever met. Except I couldn’t exactly call him a man—male, perhaps? Bigfoot or alien, it didn’t matter—he was hot.
While I probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, I wasn’t even mad at him anymore. What choice did he have? If I were an alien stranded on a strange world, I probably would have done exactly the same thing.
When he pounced on the mountain lion to save me, I was scared to death he’d get hurt. The jagged scratches seemed nasty, blood so dark red it appeared black seeping through the rents in his skin, but after I’d bandaged him, Ewok didn’t seem hindered by them at all.
And when he kissed me to thank me for tending his wounds—soft lips pressing against mine with such gentleness—I didn’t even protest, even though I’d declared no more kissing like I was about to enter a convent.
Truth was, I enjoyed kissing Ewok. It felt right somehow. It wasn’t our first kiss. It wasn’t even our most passionate kiss. Seriously, as kisses went, it was nearly chaste, but my panties went up in flames all the same. I couldn’t even sleep for thinking about it—the warmth of his mouth, the way he held me so carefully. That and the vivid fantasies of him crawling into the tent with me and doing a lot more than kissing.
My attention was so completely consumed by my heated daydreams I didn’t notice Ewok had come to a halt in front of me until Jubal snorted loudly and stomped his hooves, announcing to the entire mountainside that I’d been utterly distracted by my wandering thoughts.
My mind immediately snapped from midnight liaisons to cold, hard murder—specifically Yaard. “What is it? Do you smell him?” I asked, my voice tight.
“No,” Ewok turned to face me, his honey brown eyes appearing almost black in the shade cast by the towering pines. “Humans, two males and two horses.”
“Where?” My heart rate quickened. We weren’t anywhere near the established hiking paths. Instead, we traversed the narrow trails mostly frequented by wildlife and the occasional hunter.
Ewok jerked his head toward the south, his nostrils flaring slightly as he tested the air. “A couple of miles away, moving in our general direction.”
Shit!
I’d completely freaked out upon seeing the real Ewok—and that was after I’d spent several days getting to know him. The idea of what a couple of armed hunters might do if they stumbled across his alien form sent ice through my veins.
“Oh my God, get your camouflage device turned on, quick!” I urged, my voice barely above a panicked whisper.
Ewok released a deep, resigned sigh that seemed to come from his very soul, reaching into his left front pocket with obvious reluctance and turned on the small device. A subtle shimmer rippled through the air around him like heat waves, and suddenly, he was that devastatingly gorgeous human man again. A human man who now scratched irritably at his forearm.
“I’m sorry,” I sighed, guilt washing over me as I reached out to rub my fingertips along his muscled arm. “I know it’s uncomfortable for you.”
“I’ll survive,” he grumbled, though his expression softened into a faint smile at my touch. He lifted his head and inhaled deeply through his nose, and his smile unexpectedly deepened into something almost amused.
“What?” I asked.
“One of the humans is Hank from the bar.”
“Hank?” A sharp flicker of aggravation coursed up my spine. “I wonder what the hell he’s doing out here?” Mostly, Hank was an elk hunter, and it wouldn’t be elk season for several more months.
“He and the other male are talking about finding you,” Ewok said matter-of-factly, reminding me that his hearing was almost as acute as his sense of smell.
“Ugh,” I moaned aloud, feeling both aggravated and more than a little peeved by the clear insinuation that I couldn’t take care of myself in the wilderness. “Come on.”
My footfalls struck the rocky trail with sharp, staccato beats that betrayed my aggravation as we descended the winding path. Soon, I didn’t need Ewok’s supernatural senses to pinpoint their approach—the sound of heavy boots crunching over loose gravel and the occasional snort from their horses became discernible by even my pitiful human ears.
Hank emerged first around a sharp bend in the trail, his weathered face flushed from exertion as he pushed himself past the drooping branches of a massive pine, leading his horse Big Kate. The moment his eyes found me, a wide, relieved grin spread across his features, and he raised his arm in an enthusiastic wave. Despite my irritation, a pang of guilt twisted in my chest. The genuine concern etched on his face made me feel bad about being so pissed at his unexpected arrival.
