Her Alien Protector: Voxeran Fated Mates #6

by Hall, Presley

  Clearing his throat, Bohrir steps to one side and retrieves the walking stick he pulled out of my grasp a moment ago. He returns it to me, smiling gently as I take it.

  “You’ve used this to defend yourself twice now,” he says. “Keep it with you. It may save your life again.”

  “Thanks.” I take the stick. Even though it wasn’t the thing that killed that snake-creature in the crevasse, I do feel better with the familiar weight of it in my grip. “And… I’m sorry about running off like that. It was stupid. I should’ve paid more attention to where I was going.”

  “It’s all right.” Bohrir shakes his head, his shaggy dark hair falling over his forehead a little. “I didn’t mean to upset you, Willow.”

  “I know.” My throat tightens, and I clutch my walking stick a little tighter as I shove down a wave of emotions. “I just… don’t know anyone named Max.”

  “All right.”

  He nods, not pressing for more information than that, although I can see curiosity in his eyes. He’s probably wondering how a name I don’t even recognize could upset me so much. The answer to his unspoken question dances on the tip of my tongue, but I keep my mouth closed.

  I never let Gornok or his men know that I’d lost all my memories of my previous life on Earth. For a while, I thought Gornok might’ve been responsible for my amnesia, that he’d done something to my mind in an attempt to keep me docile or prevent me from trying to escape. And once I became relatively certain that it wasn’t him, I took pains to not let him find out, knowing he would only use the knowledge against me if he discovered the truth.

  It’s second nature by now to keep my secrets locked up tight.

  “Would you like to gather more food? Or just return to camp?” Bohrir asks, gesturing in the direction of the patch of aroona roots we were harvesting before I stupidly ran off.

  “We should forage more,” I say. I still feel a little flustered and dizzy from the leftover adrenaline in my system, but we need food. And I don’t want Bohrir to think I’m weak or helpless. I don’t quite know why his opinion matters so much to me, but it does.

  I follow him back to the area where our packs are still lying on the ground. We work in silence, digging up a few dozen aroonas and cleaning them off as best we can before storing them in our bags. By the time we finish up and start to head back toward camp, my heartbeat has slowed and the adrenaline from being trapped in the crevasse has faded from my system.

  But even so, I still feel… strange.

  My skin feels too sensitive, and the air still seems thick and heavy. Every time Bohrir glances at me, my temperature seems to shoot up by a few degrees, and my stomach flutters as if I swallowed a bunch of butterflies.

  I steal a surreptitious look at him as we pass by the lake near our little campsite.

  What is it about this man?

  10

  Bohrir

  My mate.

  Willow is my mate.

  My entire body resonates with those words, with the deep and abiding knowledge that washed over me as I gazed down at her earlier.

  How did I not realize it before? Why did it take nearly seeing her get bitten by a kheeril to shock my heart and soul into recognizing the truth?

  I run a hand through my hair as our campsite comes into view up ahead, my mind still churning.

  Perhaps part of me did recognize the bond much earlier than today. Up until now, I’ve never questioned why I felt so deeply compelled to rescue her from Gornok, to make sure that she was safe and protected in the village, and to follow her into the wilderness when she left. Even before I understood why, I knew that Willow was precious. That she was special and rare. Someone worth fighting for.

  Maybe the spark of the bond flared the moment I first laid eyes on her, but as I’ve gotten to know her, it has only solidified and deepened my initial feelings for her. There’s still so much I don’t know about her, but even without knowing her past, I’ve learned a great deal about her in the time we’ve spent together.

  I’ve learned that although she’s delicate, she’s strong.

  I’ve learned that she’s a fighter. A survivor.

  And despite the horrors she’s been through, she hasn’t lost her compassion.

  She is my mate.

  The thought echoes through my head again, and a rush of joy follows them, so strong that I have to work to keep my expression neutral.

  I almost told her about the bond the moment I felt it. The words were on the tip of my tongue before I caught them and trapped them behind my lips. I know she felt something too—I could see it in the way her eyes widened and her breath hitched. But if I tell her it’s the mate bond, I’m afraid she’ll run again.

  From everything I’ve learned, I’m almost certain that reason she fled from the village is because she fears being trapped, and after what she experienced at the hands of Gornok and his men, I can’t blame her for that. It doesn’t matter that our only intent was to welcome her into our settlement and provide safety and community. I know well enough that trauma and fear don’t always follow logic.

  But now I’m unsure of what to do. Everything inside me is screaming at me to claim my mate, to pull her into my arms and worship her, to feel her small body pressed against mine. And yet, how can I, when I know such actions would only make her fear me more than she already does?

  We reach the camp and take off our packs, and although my mind is still reeling, I try to keep my thoughts from showing on my face. Every time I think about the mate bond, I’m torn between joy and despair. I’m so lucky that fate has chosen a woman like Willow for me, but the thought of never being closer to her than I am now sends a pang through my chest.

  Just give her time, I remind myself.

  After eating some of the food we gathered, we split apart into our separate small encampments. I’m aware of Willow moving about beneath the limbs of her tree as she settles in, but I try to keep from looking over at her too often or openly staring. Instead, I busy myself with my own tasks, creating a bigger fire pit and lining it with small stones. I lose myself in the work, and a bit of time passes before I glance over at Willow again.

  Except… she’s not there.

  I leap to my feet, adrenaline surging through me.

  Slanch it all. I was so determined not to make her feel unconstrained that I didn’t pay close enough attention to her movements. This is the exact same reason she had an opportunity to slip away from the village without anyone realizing it until the next morning.

  Anger and self-recrimination churn in my chest, mixing with the worry that makes my heart beat harder.

  She’ll be all right, I tell myself. Wherever she is, she’ll be all right. She’s defended herself numerous times, and she’s savvy and quick-thinking.

  I glance around the abandoned campsite quickly, noting that her walking stick is gone as well. Good. At least she has that.

  My knife is still at the bottom of the crevasse, but I have a second blade in my pack that I dig out quickly. Unlike many of my fellow Voxerans, my weapon of choice is not a spear, but I find myself wishing I had brought one anyway.

  Not wasting any more time lamenting that fact, I stride quickly through the woods around the makeshift campsite, searching for any sign of Willow. I found her once. I can do it again. I just pray I won’t be too late.

  With every step I take, my worry and fear for her grows. Although I’ve never craved a good fight the way Strome or Kaide might, I can feel my muscles bunching, my grip on my knife’s handle tightening. There’s not a creature on the entire slanching planet that I wouldn’t fight with my bare hands right now if I had to. If it meant keeping Willow safe.

  I reach the lake we passed earlier, and a splashing sound up ahead draws my attention. My gaze darts to the source of the sound—and I freeze.

  Willow is in the water.

  And she’s naked.

  The glittering water of the lake laps around her waist as she scoops up handfuls of it to scrub at her skin.<
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  All the breath leaves my lungs in a rush as I take in the soft lines of her curves, the swells of her breasts, and her dusky pink nipples, which have drawn into tight peaks from the chill of the water.

  By all the gods, I’ve never seen anything so lovely.

  I’m certain I haven’t made a noise, but Willow stiffens suddenly, her head whipping around as her gaze finds me immediately. She lets out a startled noise, plunging deeper into the water as her hands fly up to cover her breasts.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, doing my best to ignore the way my voice is strained and rough with desire. I clear my throat. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I realized you had disappeared from the camp, and I was worried.”

  “Oh.”

  Willow blinks, looking startled. Most of her body is obscured beneath the water, which now reaches her upper chest. The dark red strands of her hair cling to each other in damp locks, and she reaches up to brush them back as gazes at me.

  “I… I didn’t realize you’d worry.” She shakes her head. “I should’ve said something. Sorry. I just wanted to wash off some of the dirt and grime from when I fell earlier. Not to mention all that walking over the past couple days.”

  I chuckle. “That’s understandable. I’m sure I could use a good scrubbing myself.”

  Sunlight glints off the water, reflecting in her deep green eyes and making them sparkle like jewels. It takes effort to wrench my gaze away from them, but I tear myself away and turn to go.

  “You can wash up too, if you like.”

  Willow’s voice stops me in my tracks.

  When I glance over my shoulder, I see a slight flush creep over her cheeks as she gestures to encompass the lake.

  “It’s plenty big enough,” she adds, shrugging lightly.

  My heart pounds heavily in my chest. I turn around and stride carefully back toward the water’s edge, watching her for any sign of fear. She doesn’t look frightened, although she averts her gaze as my hands drop to the ties that secure my loincloth in place. I drop it to the ground quickly and then wade into the water. Once I’m about as deep as she is, Willow glances my way again.

  For a heartbeat, her gaze drifts downward, as if she could get a glimpse of my lower half through the hazy water. My cock stiffens immediately in response, going half hard despite the chill of the water. Her gaze darts back up to my face, the flush on her cheeks a little darker now.

  “You picked a good location for the campsite,” I comment, just to have something to say. “Having a lake nearby will come in handy.”

  “It was just luck, honestly,” she admits, although she gives me a shy smile. “I didn’t know it was here when I decided to stop for the night.”

  “Well, when it comes to living on Nuthora, having luck on your side never hurts.”

  “Yeah. That’s true.”

  Her expression turns a little sad as she looks out over the lake, and I wonder for a moment if I’ve said the wrong thing again. I’m starting to understand this Terran woman better, or at least I think I am, but I still can’t always predict her reaction to things.

  Willow glances back at me, her green eyes searching. “What was the name I said last night again?”

  I blink, surprised she’s bringing the subject up when it seemed to cause her so much pain earlier. “Max.”

  She nods, biting her bottom lip. “And what did I say? Do you remember?”

  I remember all of it. The strangeness of hearing Willow talk in her sleep, combined with my curiosity about her, imprinted every word in my memory.

  “Yes,” I tell her. “You said, ‘found Max. I knew you would.’”

  She considers that for a long moment, twisting a lock of wet hair around her finger as her eyes go unfocused. Then she makes a quiet noise in her throat, her lips turning down in a grimace.

  “No. I don’t know who it is.”

  “That’s all right,” I reassure her, taking a small step closer to her. “Maybe it was someone who only exists in your dreams.”

  “Maybe.” She takes a deep breath, looking down at the water’s surface again. “Or maybe not. Maybe it’s someone I used to know, but I lost that memory along with all the others.”

  Her soft voice is full of both pain and resignation, and my brows draw together as I try to make sense of what she just said.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. “Along with all the others?”

  Willow’s throat works as she swallows, and she shifts her weight as if she’s thinking about bolting out of the water and running again. But then she sighs. She closes her eyes, brushing her wet hair back again before looking at me.

  “I can’t remember anything from before I came to Nuthora,” she says. “I know I’m Terran because that’s what everyone tells me I am. But I can’t remember Earth, or anything about my life there.”

  11

  Willow

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, my heart starts galloping a mile a minute.

  I don’t know why I just said that. Why I revealed such a large part of myself. I lived with Gornok and the other pirates for years without ever admitting that truth to them, and after a day and half in the woods with Bohrir, I just spilled my guts to him?

  It doesn’t make sense. Not logically, anyway. But after everything that’s happened, Bohrir seems sort of like a partner in all of this, and it didn’t seem fair to hide the truth from him any longer.

  I planned on being alone out here in the wilderness, but with him here, the two of us have only each other to rely on. And already, he’s saved my life. He came charging after me just now because I left the campsite and he was worried about me.

  As hard as it is to let my guard down, and I can’t find even a shred of evidence that Bohrir would ever try to use my most painful secret against me.

  I hold his gaze as he absorbs my words, determined not to look away or show too much vulnerability. I’ve made my peace with my memory loss already—as much as I can, at least—so whatever his reaction is, I can handle it.

  “Willow…” Bohrir murmurs my name softly, taking a step nearer to me. We were pretty far apart to start with, we we’re not that close, but the space between us feels like nothing. Like it might as well not even exist. “Why didn’t you tell me? Tell any of us?”

  I lick my lips. The sympathy in his voice is making my eyes burn like I’m about to cry—not out of sadness, but from an overload of emotions. They rise up suddenly in my chest, powerful and confusing and hard to name, and I have to swallow a few times before I can speak.

  “I’ve never told anyone. If Gornok knew, he would’ve found a way to torment me with it, so I made sure he never found out. And then I just got used to keeping it secret. When I got to the village, and the other Terran women were there, I… I didn’t know how to tell them that I wasn’t one of them. Not really.” I drag in a shuddery breath. “I can’t talk about all the things I miss back on Earth. I can’t share stories of my past—because I don’t know them. It’s all just… blank.”

  Bohrir gazes down at me seriously for a moment, as if he’s gathering his thoughts. Then he sighs.

  “I was exiled to this planet for attempting to overthrow a vicious, usurping king,” he says. “I don’t believe I belong here, but at least I know what I did to be banished to Nuthora. And from the moment I arrived on this planet, I’ve never been alone. I’ve had my brothers, my fellow warriors, with me the entire time, reminding me of who I am and where I came from.”

  His face softens as he shakes his head. “But you, Willow? You deserve to be here even less than I do. You committed no crime and are being punished for the infractions of the very men who stole you away from your old life. I hate that you’ve been alone in all of this. I hate that you didn’t have anyone to lean on, anyone to remind you of who you were back on Terra. I wish I could do that for you. I wish I could help you remember.”

  Bohrir examines me for a moment before continuing, and I hold my breath as his gaze traces over my features.

  �
��But even though I never knew you in your old life,” he tells me quietly. “I still know who you are. You have shown me who you are every day since the day I met you. You’re brave. You’re resourceful. You’re kind. And you’re strong.”

  The deep certainty in his voice makes it impossible to deny his words. Even though I’m not sure I believe those things he said about me, it’s clear that he does.

  My whole body seems to grow warm despite the chill of the water, and I run my hands through the cool liquid around me.

  “I hope that’s who I am,” I whisper. “Who I was. With so much of my past shrouded in mystery, sometimes I feel like half a person. Like I’m not… fully formed.”

  “I’m sorry.” Bohrir grimaces. “I wish I had known.”

  My shoulders lift in a half shrug. “It’s my fault you didn’t. I could’ve told you, or any of the others. I’ve just gotten so used to keeping it a secret.” I hesitate, then add, “Sometimes I think I remember snippets of my past in dreams. But by the time I wake up, it’s all too fuzzy to recall clearly. I can’t remember actual images or people, just feelings and impressions.”

  “That’s good,” he says encouragingly. “That means those memories are still in your head, even if you can’t access them consciously right now. It’s all still in there. And that makes me hopeful that you’ll recover the memories one day.”

  “You think so?” Hope blooms in my chest. I know Bohrir isn’t exactly an expert in the human brain or memory loss, but his confidence buoys my spirits anyway.

  “I do.” He grins, and it makes him look so much younger than his usual stoic expression does. “I have an idea. If I hear you speak in your sleep again, would you like me to tell you what you said later? I know the name Max didn’t jog your memory, but maybe something else will. Maybe you’ll find your way into that seemingly locked vault. I have a feeling that once you break down the barrier between your memories and your conscious mind, more memories will begin to flow.”

  A burst of excitement fills me, and I nod. “Yeah, that would be great. I didn’t really know I talk in my sleep until now, so I can’t guarantee it’ll happen again. It could’ve just been a one-off thing, but if you hear me again, try to remember what I say. Maybe it’ll point me in the right direction.”