Page 22 of Saved and Sated

Page List


Font:  

My mates sink into me, and I gently rest my cheek against Lyra's forehead and say, "I'll find us a way out of this and get us back home, mates."

"It's my fault." My little female starts to cry again, and my heart breaks.

I purr louder, no longer caring if the aliens can hear. Comforting my mate while she's crying is more important.

"It's not your fault, little omega," I start with a frown. "I didn't take the right precautions. I knew it was possible that someone might come inquiring about the crash, yet I didn't fully prepare myself or our den for that possibility. And when he knocked on our door, I should have taken you straight to Straf for protection, but I didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Lyra," I say softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Hush now. You both need to rest. I'll watch over you."

It takes a while for them to fall asleep, but eventually they succumb to their exhaustion while I hold them close, ever vigilant.

Chapter 14

Lyra

"Now,now,noneedto be so angry and aggressive," Clija drawls, causing Wen to growl savagely despite the “master” not physically being present in our prison cell. "We haven't started today's tests yet. Your mates… Is that the right word for them?" When the silence drags painfully, he sighs. "Well, your mates are perfectly safe for the moment. We're just going to run a few more tests on the female, and then you can have her back. Simple. Easy."

Wen hunkers down in front of me and Olo, barricading us with his body as he growls impossibly louder and more savagely.

I don't know how long we've been awake, but it feels like forever. We've been waiting in the tense silence of this damned room for Clija's next move, and clearly this is it. Dread consumes me with the knowledge I'm about to be separated from my mates again and left to face these aliens on my own.

My body starts to shake uncontrollably despite Olo's comforting arms around me. My own hands go to my belly, as if I can somehow protect the little life growing inside me when I can't even protect myself. Despair is thickening in my throat, and I hunch as low as I can go, which unfortunately isn't very far at all.

All of a sudden, Wen drops to the ground with a horrible, dull thud, and I stare in shock. After a brief pause, Olo and I scramble to our feet and race to our mate, who's awake and shaking. Wen is gritting his teeth and his face is all scrunched up like he's in pain, like how the actors in those old-time movies behaved when they were tased.

"Stop!" I scream, hands fluttering over Wen, unsure of how to help.

Olo gently nudges my hands out of the way when I get too close to touching Wen. Instead he slowly reaches for our mate like he's unsure whether he can touch Wen without being electrocuted himself. I'm holding my breath, and the moment Olo touches the alpha's arm, I noisily exhale with relief when Olo doesn't drop to the ground and seize right alongside Wen.

It must be the fucking collar on our necks that we all woke up to—the collars I've tried so hard to pretend didn't exist.

The door to the cell opens and five aliens march in, all of them wearing the damn hazmat suits. I try to see any defining characteristics on them, but it's too chaotic. They rush us, completely ignoring Wen as he seizes and shakes on the hard floor, and instead two aliens quickly pin Olo into the corner and the other three reach for me. Somehow they manage to grab me with this long, rod-like thing that attaches to my collar, and they yank me out the door.

The last sound I hear from my mates is Olo's shouts to let me go, which are promptly disregarded as I'm dragged down a sterile metal wall. I'm too winded to scream back or shoot profanities at my captors, otherwise I'd give them verbal hell. The damned rod connected to my neck makes it hard to breathe, though, and it takes all my focus on walking so the thing doesn't dig any deeper into my throat.

And try as I might, I can't focus on my surroundings enough as I'm marched through hall after hall, all of which look the same. I know it's important to pay attention for our escape, but I'm failing to mentally map out my path like I've read about in my books before. It's not as easy as I thought it'd be, especially when I'm more focused on simply breathing.

I'm shoved through an open door so suddenly I stumble and choke, but before my breathing cuts off completely, the metal rod is gone, and I crumple to the ground hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

"Be careful, yougribla shras!" Clija barks over the intercom system so loudly I jump. The three aliens cower and mutter apologies as they rush around the room. Then Clija snaps, "All right, enough! Just to get to work."

I glance around as I slowly climb to my feet and note I'm in a box with two other humans, both male, both collared, and clearly malnourished. It makes my heart twist as I study them, yet a small part of me is relieved to not be alone with these three aliens. It's selfish of me, especially considering I have no idea what other sick tests they will put us all through, but fuck if seeing a human doesn't fill me with a small measure of relief.

The box we are in looks like it's part of an even bigger room that was sectioned off, because in the “room” next to ours, there are two other humans collared and crouched together in the far corner. The male is standing a little in front of the female, almost protectively, and it makes me ache for the comfort both Wen and Olo provide me. Then I start to panic, because what is Clija doing to my mates? What cruel tests are they putting them through?

The male pacing our box starts to mutter under his breath, too low for me to make out, but what really draws my attention is his stare. It's not a glare, per se, but it's not exactly friendly either. I shiver and inch my way to the far wall, as far from the staring male as possible. His brown eyes dip to my thighs and I flinch, hands going to my belly even though it's not my baby he's looking at—it's my purple and blue scales.

I just want to go back to my mates. I just want to go home.

"Wh-What are you?” The cracked and worn voice belongs to the male crouched on the adjacent wall to my left. He looks the worst off, with stringy blond hair and dull brown eyes.

"Human." I swallow thickly as that one word gets caught in my throat. "Well… not fully. Not anymore."

"I heard them talking. They want us to be like you." The blond looks wild, crazed even, and I hate to think about what the poor male has suffered during his captivity.

"Why?" I whisper, eyes darting to the three aliens hovering over a holoscreen just outside the box I'm in. They aren't paying attention to us, nor to the two in the other “room,” but it doesn't matter now. The blond is muttering and rocking back and forth, clearly lost in his thoughts, signifying he's done with our brief conversation.


Tags: D.E. Chapman Paranormal