Page 10 of The Alien’s Mate

Mr. West’s eyes were cold. “That’s a risk we’re willing to take.”

Lila tightened her fist and didn’t care about the tears that fell down her cheeks. She stood from her chair and spat, “You’re a fucking maniac, West.” His cold eyes were the last thing she saw before she stormed out of his office, half expecting armed guards to wait outside. But the hall was empty.

The tight corridors of the facility seemed to close in on her, never-ending as she strode toward her room. She passed Dean who asked her, with a surprisingly worried face, what was happening, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t stay for another moment.

Locking her door behind her, she pulled out her suitcase and started packing. She didn’t care about folding her things, didn’t care about what was clean and not, and she just stuffed her bags. It was Wednesday, and she knew there would be a helicopter leaving that night for a restock run—and she would be in that helicopter.

But she would have to be quick about it. She knew the pilot—Danny—and she was sure she would be able to convince him to let her go with him, but she couldn’t be seen running with a bag at dinner time. Tossing the bag into her laundry basket, she covered it with some sheets and unlocked the door.

Just as she opened it, she was faced with several armed security guards, Dr. Bryce, and Mr. West himself. Lila gasped loudly and took a step back inside her room.

“Miss Vernon,” muttered Mr. West. “Where are you going?”

Lila swallowed, but her throat was too dry. “T-to the laundry…”

Melinda’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, and she grabbed the sheet and revealed the suitcase in the basket. With a dark look, she glared at her. “You disappoint me, Lila.”

“Put her under,” muttered Mr. West to Melinda before he turned and left the room.

The security guys poured in. Lila screamed but was quickly silenced by the same men that had tried for months to get her in bed. They held her steady while Melinda pulled out a large shot from her pocket, and a searing pain washed over her as the woman jabbed a needle into her neck. Soon, the world started to blur, and before long, Lila slipped away into silence and darkness.

CHAPTER 5

THE MATE

~

A chilly wind swept over her, and she shivered. The earthy and musky smell of undergrowth and moss filled her nostrils, and as she came about, she felt the soft, cold, and slightly moist pillow of greenery beneath her. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids were heavy; her whole body was heavy, weighing more than a ton as she tried to move.

She could hear the rustle of trees as the wind caressed the branches, and when she finally managed to open her eyes, she saw nothing but a blur of green and brown, muted colors in a murky light. She tried to move again and managed to dig her fingers into the moss underneath her, and memories came rushing back. Was she outside the facility? Had Mr. West thrown her out into the Canadian wilderness? Had he left her to starve?

When a deep rumble filled the air, the hairs stood on their ends all over her body. Slowly, the blurriness stilled, and she saw the outline of a giant coming toward her. Surely, it was a hallucination, an image her mind had put together after seeing the large alien come through the woods in his enclosure so many times. Yet, her body reacted as though it was real.

Her heart jumped in her chest, she wanted to cry, but all she could do was to whimper, “Atlas,” before her mind drifted again.

* * *

The next time she came about, she was no longer lying on the cold ground. Instead, the strong smell of fur and hide filled her nostrils, as well as the smell of firewood and smoke. She was warm, cozy even, but she still felt heavy and disoriented.

She tried to move, and with some effort, she managed to snake her arm out of the furs that were wrapped around her. She opened her eyes, blinked to rehydrate them, and saw a burning fire just next to her. She squinted and sat slowly. Her head was spinning, her neck was straining, and she brought her hand to where Melinda had injected her with whatever hellish compound she’d used. It hurt like a bruise, but nothing else. She barely felt the small prick wound.

It was dark wherever she was, save from the fire, and she inspected the furs she was wrapped in. The hairs were short but dense, warming effectively without being fluffy; the hide was carved skillfully, but the surface was rough, as though the knife hadn’t been sharp enough. For a moment, she wondered if she’d been taken in by a hunter or indigenous people.

Looking over the fire, she was surprised to find herself alone. Sitting up a bit better, she reached out to feel the heat of the flames. That was when she saw the two, glowing eyes peek at her from the other side in the dark, and she drew a sharp breath as she threw herself backward.

Crawling along the ground, she tried to scream but no sound could escape her. She scrambled to her feet, her heart in her ears, and she was just about to run when someone grabbed her arm and spun her around. The eight feet tall alien stood before her in the dark, like a silhouette against the fire in the back—but his eyes seemed to be luminous as they glared down at her.

She could barely breathe; the creature’s hand wrapped around her arm as if it were a twig, and for a second, she thought that was it—this was the moment she would lose her life. But Atlas only stared at her and let out a low, guttural growl. After a few moments that felt like an eternity, he pulled her effortlessly along to the fire.

“Atlas,” she breathed out as she stumbled along. She tried to fight him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Atlas, let me go!”

The alien plumped her down on the furs and gave her a strict look before he sat down on the other side of the fire, his gaze never leaving her.

Lila struggled to breathe. He had pulled her along as though she weighed nothing, and he would have no problem overpowering her. Her arm hurt where he had grabbed her, and she was sure it would bruise. “Atlas,” she whispered, “please…” She didn’t know what she was begging for. This could only mean one thing—she was in the enclosure. And if she was in the enclosure, there was no way for her to get out.

The alien observed her as intensely as ever, cocking his head slightly. The way he sat was so human-like, so familiar; his arms rested on his knees, his muscled shoulders were comfortably slanted, and his legs were wide apart. Even though he seemed relaxed, his gaze was sharp and dangerous.

Lila made herself small, terrified of what might stir in the large creature’s mind. She had been picked for him—or, if Mr. West was to be believed, she had been picked by him. Would he force himself on her? Had he waited for this moment ever since he’d first seen her in the flesh? Why did the thought make her feel oddly flushed?