Slag: Book Four in the Galaxy Pirates Alien Abduction Romance Series (Shifter) Alana Khan (love letters to the dead .txt) 📖

I stand at the mouth of our cave looking out, shielding my face from the sandy wind. What I see scares the shit out of me. The ground is moving as if something underneath it is writhing under the crust. It’s almost as if an animal has created a burrow right under the top of the soil and is moving at lightning speed.

Far off in the distance, I see something burst through the ground and grab one of the little mammals we see darting through the landscape from time to time. The enormous toothed worm dives back underground, the small mammal already swallowed alive.

Slag got out of bed a few minutes ago. He was at my side and watched the life and death drama unfold. Pulling me next to him, he leans against the cave opening and we watch as the world goes haywire outside our front door.

The underground animals create furrows under the soil, but they stay a football field away from us, or more. They must not be able to break through rock, and we’re sitting on thick slabs of it.

I urge Slag to go back to bed, the effort of standing is obviously costing him, he’s sweating even though the furious winds have brought the temperature down a bit. He doesn’t, though, he stands like a stone sentinel at the arched opening to our cave, his posture screaming to whatever’s out there that they’ll have to fight him to get to me.

It’s almost fully dark when he stiffens, looking off to the left out the safety of our cave. He stands straighter with a soft grunt.

“What is it?” I wonder out loud.

He points.

“More worms?”

He shakes his head and points to me and then himself.

“People?”

He nods.

Shit. We haven’t met any nice people on this planet. None.

He points to the small opening into the bioluminescent cave. He wants me to hide there. I can’t hide when he’s half-dead on his feet.

“Are you going out there? Unarmed? Sick? Are you crazy?”

He shakes his head, just once, as if moving more than that is too much effort, then he points again to the almost-invisible opening.

I grab the small knife I’ve been working on. I’ve chipped away at a jagged piece of obsidian and wrapped the handle in vines. Sticking it into my jeans pocket, I return to his side.

Pointing at the hole again, he makes his sternest face—brows lowered, bottom lip thrust out. I can tell he has no energy left to argue with me and no intention of staying here. I don’t want to cost him anymore effort, so I crawl into the humid cave and wait for him to leave, then trot behind. He didn’t even grab the axe when he left, so I think he’s too sick to notice me.

Even though he’s barely been able to think since I met him and he’s been worse the last week, he has a sixth sense about self-preservation. He doesn’t walk in a straight line, he meanders, always staying on the hard, black igneous rock to keep us safe from the underground worms.

He stops suddenly. From behind, he doesn’t look near death now. He looks formidable, every thick muscle in his body is on red alert. Pulling my knife from my pocket, it provides me no comfort. It’s so small it barely qualifies as a weapon.

It’s too late for him to send me back to our cave, so I approach from behind and touch the bare skin on the small of his back. He’s not startled, nor did I expect him to be. He knew I was following.

I see people emerge through the blowing sands. It looks like five humanoids, four different races. The one female among them looks remarkably human. They stop in their tracks as they see us. One of the males pushes the female behind his back to protect her. Perhaps these people have some sense of decency.

We’ve come all this way, I guess there’s no reason to hide now. I hope they’re friendly.

“Hello,” I call.

“Hello,” the female calls back. Have I lost my mind, or did she speak in English? I don’t think my translator needed to engage.

“Human?” I ask.

“Elyse from New Jersey,” she says.

A laugh bubbles up out of my mouth. A human! From New Jersey!

“KJ from Illinois,” I say as I take a step forward.

“Stop!” she says, putting her palm up in a halt motion. “Who’s he?”

“Slag. A friend. Harmless.” Shit. I shouldn’t have admitted that. I can see all four males are armed. This could all be a trick and I just announced my only protection is harmless. “He’s big and strong, but he’s kind. A helper. He’s the one who came to help you, but he knew he’d need my help to smooth the way.”

“How are you going to help us?” a large colorful humanoid asks. He has fierce markings all over his black and red body.

“Do you need shelter?”

“Yes, until the weather dies down enough for my ship to pick us up,” the male says.

“We can show you to our small cave. It rests on stone and is surrounded by stone. You’re welcome to stay if you leave your weapons outside.”

“How do you know this guy?” Elyse asks, her eyes flicking to Slag.

“I’ve known him for about a month. He doesn’t speak, but he’s the kindest male I’ve ever met, and he’s saved my life a dozen times. You can trust him with your life,” I say as I inch closer to him and sneak my fingers into his huge hand. He grips me tight, as if I’m a lifeline. Standing here in the raging wind and blowing sand is costing him.

Slag suddenly drops my hand and points into the distance, past the group we’re talking to. I read his body language