Rescued by an Alien: Alien Mate Romance (Stolen by an Alien Book 2)

by Amanda Milo

  She’s still too cold.

  She’s been cold since she heard the news.

  ◆◆◆

  CALLIE

  I don’t think I slept at all.

  I’m a zombie when I drag myself out of bed - but I still catch Zadeon’s surprised expression at my rising.

  I’m sure he was afraid I would essentially lock myself up in this room again. But I’ve tried lying still. My brain won’t shut down this time-

  Because "that stage" of the pregnancy - the exhausted part - has passed?

  I have to do something before I lose my mind.

  “We have a routine to nail down,” I explain.

  His nod is full of gratitude. The part of me that isn’t numb with horror appreciates how much he cares.

  How much he loves me.

  It’s in the studio that my mind quiets.

  Thank. God.

  I throw everything I have into getting our routine corrected. Zadeon is supposed to lift me into the air but it’s not working.

  Thing is, he’s doing this spot on, and has been the whole time - I keep screwing it up.

  I’m not going to quit until I get this right.

  “The answer is not to kill yourself,” Zadeon growls and for the first time, I hear anger in his voice directed at me.

  I put my hand on his arm. “I’m not. I swear, Z, I just… I have to do something. I have to- to have control of something and this helps me from thinking-”

  I shudder, trying to pull my composure together. It’s been about as sturdy as old hosiery; I can feel I’m about to split and I know that if I start, there’s no way to stop it.

  To fix it now that it’s happened.

  Zadeon’s gaze bores into me - with worry. “Okay.” He nods slowly. “If it helps. But you stop if you…”

  “Get tired? Hurt?”

  His smile is a sad thing, but it is commiserating. He cups my chin with his fingers, not his tail. The extra connection helps quell a little bit of the fear swirling in me. “Dance. Let it help you. I can carry you out if you need it.”

  “Now you’ll carry me,” I try to say. To joke.

  But I think I just end up blubbering on him.

  I’m not sure if he understood a word of it.

  Then again; maybe he does. His face is screwed up like he wants to cry with me. I hug him and get his suit all wet on the other shoulder - I already soaked half of him earlier.

  “Thank you,” I finally manage.

  Into my ear he rumbles, “Always.”

  CHAPTER 37

  ZADEON

  With time, dancing helps.

  It gives her focus, anyway.

  So much so that it is as if there is no baby.

  It is not as good a thing as it would seem; to ignore the life as if it does not exist. She doesn’t want to discuss anything about it, and she avoids Dohrein - and enlists me to ensure she’s left alone - even though I adamantly suggest otherwise.

  I know nothing of Dendroaspis offspring.

  She knows nothing of Dendroaspis offspring.

  We don’t know how her body is handling the pregnancy - especially with her early captivity not being the best environment for prenatal care. She could benefit from a consultation if not an examination.

  Still, she refuses to even hear what he has to say.

  She just wants to dance.

  And mate.

  She blames hormones, and to an extent, I am sure this is true.

  I also think that the desperate edge to our coupling is her still holding out hope that… I am unsure. Rationally, she knows nothing will change the fact that her captors impregnated her.

  There is no reasoning with her though.

  I despise the fact that it has turned our lovemaking into something… hollow. I feel like I’m light years apart from her even though I’m touching her.

  Maybe especially because I have strict limits now as to where I can touch her. I learned the first time I brushed her ever-so-slightly swollen belly with purpose, that I was not to touch her belly.

  Until night.

  When she sleeps, her hand will drift to mine.

  Lift it.

  And twine her fingers with mine, clasping our connection right over her stomach.

  The first times it happened, all I felt was sadness.

  Sadness for what this little one’s very life represents.

  Sadness for Callie’s state of mind.

  Sadness that my mate went through torture and she’s still being tortured. She dwells on them constantly.

  Interrupting my dark thoughts, is a tiny kick against my palm.

  I freeze.

  I’m kicked again.

  I check her face; sleeping.

  Slowly, I slide down the bed, careful to keep my horns pointed away from her when I bring my ear over belly.

  My ears are not working tonight; I should be able to hear the heart if its little body is strong enough for me to feel it kicking.

  I inhale.

  The scent is also stronger.

  All this time, the smell - that sweet something extra gaining in intensity - has been this little one.

  I’ve never been near a female carrying a Dendro baby to have recognized what this was. Up until this point, I’d assumed they hatched.

  This fluttering under my hand is no egg.

  Or maybe this scent is the result of Callie’s own essence blending with this little spirit to make a beautiful pup.

  Rakhii know that the sweeter the litter smells, the more blessed they will be in life.

  Or so my sire tells it.

  Thump-thump, thump-thump.

  I slam my ear down on her stomach so fast that I wince, hoping I didn't wake her.

  And then I’m not thinking of anything at all.

  Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump-

  My tail bangs into the dresser.

  Tevek!

  Callie’s body jerks - then goes completely stiff. Her hands find my nose, and trace around enough to confirm for her what her night-blind eyes can’t see. “No! No, no, no get off don’t touch it, don’t!”

  If it is possible for my hearts to bleed, I know that is what I’m feeling.

  CHAPTER 38

  CALLIE

  We perfect our routine.

  It’s beautiful. I feel it. I’d be able to see it if I asked for reflection capability back, but I don’t need it to know.

  Once I’ve mastered the dance with him though, I need more. I need to stay occupied. “I’m going to hit the speed bag,” I tell him as I attempt to leave the ‘studio’ portion of the gym.

  Zadeon blocks me.

  “You loathe the speed bag.”

  I shrug. “Now I want to work it.”

  Zadeon’s nostrils flare as he inhales for a long, long breath. “Fine. I suggest you consume another protein block.”

  I shake my head and move to move around him. “Nah, I’m good thank-”

  A protein brick is shoved right in front of my face. “I insist.”

  I try to smile. But like all of my smiles lately, it feels empty. Like I’ve got no warmth left inside of me to infuse even something as simple as a smile. “This is the third one today you’ve managed to whip out of thin air. Do you have these in a holster or something?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh.

  He very carefully holds the brick so that I can take it without having to touch him. We’re basically back to no touching - outside of our room, anyway.

  It’s my fault.

  I keep… it’s nothing so overt as shaking him off or anything. It’s just bad luck that Zadeon is cued to my every expression.

  And it is so dumb - I know it is, but when he touches me, a part of me feels like this will spread.

  As if ‘this’ is a disease. Or contains a disease. Like a Trojan horse baby.

  I shudder at the image.

  Of a little carbon copy of one of them.

  Also bad luck; Zadeon had bravely bridged this horrib
le distance between us to brush his tail against my cheek - right as I was shaking off the bad thought.

  Plink. I feel this awful snap in my chest, like a thread breaking on a rock climber’s rope. It’s a painful jolt, like the formerly thick cord binding our souls together is one busted strand closer to fraying loose.

  I’m doing that.

  I’m ruining us.

  I don’t know how to stop it.

  But I can’t let him be hurt, thinking he was the cause of my reaction.

  I feel like the ground disappears under my feet when he turns his back to me… and walks away.

  What have I done?

  “Z,” I whimper, clutching my aching chest. But he doesn’t turn. Either because he didn’t hear me or… he’s finally giving up on me.

  God knows I’ve given him reason to.

  It’s a turning point for me.

  This is the male that has lulled me into the sweetest, best dreams - dreams he shared with me across an endless space of stars and planets. We grew up together - though I didn’t know it at the time - some force linked us. I’m taking it as proof that we’re meant to be together. But even if I didn’t have all of that - Zadeon is the single most wonderful male I’ve ever met. He’s been with me in the dark - even when I thought I was alone; he’s always been there for me. And he loves me. He treasures me. I want him. I need him. I… I love him too.

  I run for him.

  And I tackle him.

  Or - I try. I end up slamming into his back, his spines flattening between us. Which is a good thing - I really hadn’t thought that through. I’ve seen other aliens get shish kabob’d by these spines.

  He whirls around and grabs me - only to come to himself and start to stand me up, his emotions - his love for me, his fear for me - drawing in. Because he thinks I won’t want to see it.

  I did that to him.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t you!”

  His brows sort of ripple.

  “When I shuddered - it wasn’t you.” I grab his hand, and put it on my face. It’s limp at first like he isn’t sure what to do, what he’s allowed to do - so I press it harder into my cheek, and move it for him.

  That sort of makes him smile.

  But he’s still worried, and I’m such an idiot and I don’t know how to fix this - but I go with what’s worked so far. I jump on him.

  And he catches me. Of course he catches me - this is Z. My Z.

  His arms come around me hard, dragging me up so that I can hitch my legs around his hips. I reach up, one hand on his neck to balance, the other grabbing a horn and pulling it down so I can speak directly into his ear. “I’m so sorry. Please, Z. Please forgive me.”

  He yanks his ear out of my grip and his face is half bafflement, half disapproval - his eyes searching mine telling me I should know that I’m forgiven.

  “I love you. I can’t lose you. I’m sorry I-”

  He moves one of his arms from under my butt, sliding it up my back, his touch firm to the point of being almost rough, his emotions shining in his eyes. His hand stops at my neck, where it pulls me in until we’re forehead to forehead. “Callie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shut. Up.” And he kisses me right between the eyes.

  I pull back, stunned. “Did you just-”

  His lips tug up. “You are bad at following orders.”

  “Maybe because I’m not used to you doling them out.”

  He searches my face. “I can order you around all you like.”

  That’s… the weirdest, sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.

  And his smile tells me that it comes with...

  Acceptance.

  Forgiveness.

  I melt into him.

  So grateful for the relief from this pain.

  ◆◆◆

  ZADEON

  Not for the first time, I wonder if I will have to force feed her.

  The idea is abhorrent.

  Especially considering how she was attacked. To hold her down and force anything on her?

  I’m torn between my instincts raging that I am a bad mate for letting my female go hungry, to do nothing while I watch her weaken herself; yet the whole of me cringes at the thought of how it will make her feel if I take away her choices too and force her to eat something she hates.

  She is doing better, but with the additional exercise she is forcing on herself, she needs to up her supplements and consume additional protein.

  Unfortunately, she is more complicated than even a Gryfala when it comes to coaxing her to eat. She seems pickier than even some of the other humans. She enjoys the taste of very little here. And none of the nutritious items are the ones she enjoys. Half of me tells me she must get more food in her, the other half of me rampages: my mate is unhappy with the subpar fare, and I need to respect that - and find her suitable alternatives immediately.

  But I have tried everything. She has sampled the choicest Gryfala favorites but her palette is not enough of a match for theirs. The monitoring team hasn’t interfered or forced an exam on her, but they are watching her every move outside of the nest, and they have kept us stocked on vitamins and protein packs… if she would only eat more of them.

  I’m circling on the problem when there is a series of loud bangs on the studio door.

  These aren’t knocks.

  Someone is kicking it.

  It’s Gracie.

  “Hey there, Lassie - where’s Callie?”

  I can tell she’s mocking me. I simply don’t have the reference to reason how. I decide to answer her anyway.

  “Behind me.”

  “Swell. Can I talk to her or are you going to stand there blocking me all day?”

  After looking back at Callie and seeing her nod, I yank the door open wide enough for her to enter.

  Then I face Dohrein.

  “I won’t harass her with questions,” he starts. “But I do need to talk to you about your requests.”

  ◆◆◆

  CALLIE

  Zadeon is busy with Dohrein, so I flop to my back on the mat like I’m a starfish, and Gracie does the same.

  “So.” Gracie says.

  I look over at her.

  “You dance, huh? That’s what you did for a living back home?”

  The curiosity over my former profession eases the tension in my body. I thought she was going to bring up the other thing. I can relax. “Thanks to Youtube, I made a very good living putting up not only my dances, but tutorials to teach others the moves too.”

  “You’re not letting yourself think about the baby, are you?”

  The shift in my body language is immediate. I’m no longer a lazy starfish; I’m the seed pod from a sweet gum tree.

  I examine the ceiling like the rafters are the most interesting structures I’ve ever seen. “Not if I can help it.”

  I catch my hand making a move for my stomach.

  I slam it back on the mat.

  Gracie raises an eyebrow, eyeing me, but she doesn’t say anything.

  When we’re both staring at the rafters again, she uses the quietest voice I’ve ever heard from her. “I didn’t want to think about it either. I didn’t even want to wait for tests to see if it was possible for us to cross with some alien species. I told Dohrein to kill it. Whatever was there. Kill it.”

  I’m clutching my chest where there’s this crazy pulse of - not only horrific - but horrorified pain. “You did?”

  Her lips compress for a moment before she nods. “He handed me a drink that tasted like sewage. I cried all night long.”

  “Oh… Gracie…”

  She laughs - but it’s a teary one. “That asshole had the nerve to ask me the next morning why I was crying.”

  I grimace. “He doesn’t understand…”

  Her hand latches onto my arm and she uses it to roll up on an elbow.

  Zadeon’s tail makes three distinct thunks on the floor. We both kink our necks in order to lift up enough to send him incredulous looks - he’s stil
l in conversation with Dohrein yet he has eyes like an eagle.

  She releases me and holds up her fingers to show him we’re no longer touching. “‘Ol Yeller,” she warns. “You should know I watched that movie every Christmas and I didn’t cry.”

  But her eyes are red now so the threat loses a lot of its punch.

  Probably all of its punch for Zadeon, since he has no clue what ‘Ol Yeller is even referencing.

  He’ll ask me later.

  That will be fun.

  “That’s your Christmas movie? Really?”

  “Annnyway,” she says to me with wide eyes. “This asshole,” she hooks a thumb towards Dohrein as he consults on his tablet. “He knew exactly what he was doing. He says, 'Can you tell me what emotions are driving you to tears?'”

  I make a face. “Your alien sounds like a robot.”

  “Right? Anyway, so I’m balling all over again, wailing and telling him I just killed my baby and he asks if he can record the reasons this would upset me.”

  “Cyborg sounds cooler than robot,” I offer.

  She points to me. “That’s his new nickname, right there. So we do the organized thing; I put my emotions in a list form, I rank them, and analyze my findings. And when I’m all done and still feeling fucking miserable - he says, ‘Would you do it?’ And I say, ‘Do what?’ And he’s all like, ‘Duh, would you choose to terminate your offspring based on how you feel this rotation’.”

  She takes a moment to send a meaningful look at him that, while it appears half threatening from my vantage - it must not be from Dohrein’s view because he gives her a warm, droll smile.

  Strange couple, these two.

  “And I tell him ‘I honestly don’t know.’”

  I put my hand on her arm.

  (Interestingly, Zadeon has no comment when I initiate the touch. I’m inordinately pleased for reasons I can’t even parse out.)

  “Dohrein says, ‘When you finalize your findings, you’ll want this for your end result. Or you won’t.’ And he sets a little vial between us. I’m like, ‘What is that?’ and he says, ‘It should terminate any lifeform quickening within you.’”

  “What?” I gasp. “What was the sewage he had you drink then?”

  “That was what I asked. ‘Vitamins,’ he says.”