Rescued by the Alien Warrior by Hope Hart (motivational books for students .txt) 📕

smile, leaping forward as if attempting to plow my fist into his gut. He dodges it, but my leg is already up, my foot slamming into his ribs.

Rakiz snarls, but his eyes hold appreciation. “You’ve been training too.”

“Dexar has much to teach me.”

The snarl turns into a scowl, and I almost laugh. The two tribe kings were once reluctant allies and are now friends. But that friendship is still fraught with competition and ego.

I grew up training with Rakiz. By now we know exactly how the other fights, which makes each fight more challenging.

I’m furious at my father, at myself, at the world. A fight with Rakiz is exactly what I need. I want to bruise and bleed until my outside matches my insides.

I lost her.

My little healer has given up on me. The female who never gives up on anything—even a wounded karja—has decided I am wasted effort.

Because I hurt her. And she knows I would likely hurt her further.

My head snaps back as Rakiz’s fist cracks into my cheek.

The world turns gray, and Rakiz’s eyes are no longer amused when I finally meet them again.

“If you can’t concentrate while fighting, choose another activity.”

Fury courses through my blood. I know Rakiz is goading me, but fury feels better than desolation and regret.

I growl, feeling my cheek split where his knuckles made contact with my skin. I feint with my right fist, then whirl, driving my knee into his gut as he dodges right.

He slumps just enough for me to hammer my elbow into the back of his head. The warriors surrounding us erupt, shouting encouragement—to both of us.

There are few things Braxians enjoy more than watching a good fight.

Rakiz drops to his knees but instantly jumps back up to his feet.

“You are fighting as if possessed,” he notes. “Should I guess why?”

I ignore him. Rakiz is excellent at getting beneath his opponent’s defenses—both physically and mentally.

“Aaah,” he says when I don’t reply. “This is about the human healer.”

He smiles as he says it, and my blood turns to fire. I roar as I lunge at him, and his eyes are as hard as the smile that plays around his mouth.

My fault. Zoey’s pain and sadness are my fault.

“Rakiz!”

We both turn as Beth appears, her face pale. Rakiz frowns at her, and she ignores the warriors who grumble, unhappy with the interruption of our fight.

“I was just in the healers’ kradi. Moni says Zoey never returned when she went to collect plants in the forest.” Beth hesitates for one moment and then firms her jaw. “Nevada went to meet her.”

Rakiz’s face drains of color before flushing a deep red, his whole body trembling with rage. I reach for my sword, and I’m running toward the forest before I even realize I’m moving. Behind me, Rakiz bellows orders at his men, and the camp jumps into action.

Zoey.

The thought of her terror drives me forward, and I reach the forest, roaring her name. Some of the human women are already here with their mates, all of whom are staying close to them, their eyes hard, swords in their hands.

Terex steps close, and I glance behind him at his pregnant mate. “You should take her back to camp.”

“She won’t leave until we know what happened to her friends, and I won’t make her.”

I frown at that, and he shakes his head.

“You still have no understanding of these human females.”

I ignore him, and we spread out, searching for clues. Rakiz falls into step with me, his face a mask of fury.

We almost trip over the bodies.

I drop to my knees, shaking Kroniz as Rakiz and his men check Nevada’s guards. He seems to be breathing, and I frown. I see no blood, no lump on his head, no reason for him to be unconscious.

A branch cracks behind us, and Ellie steps forward, her face gray. Terex holds her elbow, and it seems as if it is only his strength that keeps her on her feet.

“Check for a red mark,” she murmurs. “Some kind of…burn.”

Kroniz groans as I cut off his shirt, finding the red mark on his chest. I recognize this. This comes from the stick weapons the Dokhalls used in battle against us.

“They have Nevada. My pregnant mate.” Rakiz’s eyes meet mine, the devastation clear.

Ivy is out of breath as she reaches us. “They’re both smart. Nevada may be pregnant, but she’s still training. I’d bet on her against a Dokhall bastard any day. And Zoey…”

I meet her eyes, and she nods at me reassuringly.

“She’s got this, Tagiz. We’ll find both of them.”

Rakiz gets to his feet and begins giving orders. Kroniz groans again, finally opening his eyes.

He frowns, obviously confused, and I fight not to roar at him for allowing Zoey to be taken.

“Dokhalls,” he says, and I nod.

“Tell me what happened.”

“They came out of nowhere. One of them must be dying. I ran him through. Check which direction he was heading in. Look for a trail of blood.”

“How many of them were there?”

“Five. Likely four now. They wanted Nevada.”

I growl. “They want to use her to blackmail Rakiz into giving them the ship.”

Kroniz nods. “I’m sorry. They were here with no warning. They must have been planning this for some time. But there is no excuse for our failure.”

Moni appears, her face drawn as she begins checking on the other warriors.

I stand. “We will find them.”

Vrex and Ivy call out, drawing my attention to fresh drops of blood scattered on a fallen tree, while Rakiz finds a tiny, blunt knife on the ground in the opposite direction. Vrex leans close, keeping his voice hushed.

“Ivy says she has the impression the Dokhalls aren’t used to being outdoors. They fell for our traps during the battle, and they are not experienced at covering up their own tracks.”

Moni steps close to Rakiz and murmurs to him. He holds up the knife, and I examine the handle.

It’s Zoey’s knife.

She had to decide—take the knife with her and hope to use it or leave it as