Page 26 of Elas (Mate’s Mark #2)

August

I’m going to pass out. All the signs are there. My heart hammers against my ribs until I’m sure my pulse is visible beneath my skin, and every thud sends a surge of blood rushing through my veins. I’m dizzy, my vision swimming through my attempt to concentrate.

Words have turned into fuzzy lines, and I blink my eyes a few times, trying to force the paragraph back into focus.

Yor and Timothy

Case FM00189

Atlanta Compound

In these subjects, the marks formed on their hands after Yor attended to an injury on Timothy’s left forearm. Yor’s appeared on her right palm and takes up approximately eighty percent of the skin, whereas Timothy’s presented more oblong around his wound.

Yor reports attending to Timothy as her first patient of the day, at approximately 0730, and first noticed the glow of the mark under her skin forming when she removed her gloves for lunch at 1215.

She reports that the light got brighter throughout the day.

Timothy returned to the clinic after going home and napping, waking at approximately 1300 to notice his mark through his bandage.

In previous subjects, marks have been documented as presenting anywhere between three to ten hours after initial contact, so this instance fits within those parameters.

The pair were strangers before Timothy came in to the clinic.

Both report an instant attraction to the other, but once the marks formed, this attraction has amplified.

They both independently describe a pull to the other, comparing the sensation to a rope around their middle that attempts to draw them together.

This is frequently reported between fated mates.

Cold sweat tickles the back of my neck as a wave of nausea pushes bile into my throat. Mates?

Fated… Elas and I are…

Mates?

The rush of emotions is a physical blow that leaves me breathless and disoriented.

Relief is a soothing hum at the forefront, attempting to calm my panicking mind because it’s Elas.

Safety and sunshine and impossibly wide smiles and laughter that warms me from the inside out.

It makes sense of the closeness I’ve felt since the moment we met, and offers an explanation to this irrational desire to be near him.

Fear and uncertainty bubble underneath, heavy in the pit of my stomach. Logic has always ruled my actions, and nothing about my budding relationship with Elas has been logical.

None of this is logical.

There’s also excitement and nervousness, and anger that boils so hot, I might explode with it.

I’m furious that the fates would use me…

that they would take away my choice in the matter and make me a pawn in some grand plan.

Steal my agency and rob me of my free will, when freedom of choice is one of the few luxuries I’ve ever had in life.

Having it ripped away hurts worse than I could’ve imagined. I breathe through the foreign sensation and force myself to read further.

Yor is familiar with the tale of the Mate’s Mark, and because of her medical background, agreed to join our study.

Timothy, however, did not agree and attempted to leave.

Despite Yor’s attempts to convince him to come to Ljómur voluntarily, he continued to fight and required a sedative.

This caused a change in Yor’s rational behavior, resulting in a violent encounter. She was sedated as well.

Both were restrained until the transporter came to retrieve them. Two more mated pairs were in this shipment, one from the Birmingham Compound and one from the Glaston Base.

The locked doorknob jostles and a body slams into the wood. “Son of a bitch,” Chief Aeliphis mutters, and I glance around in panic, shoving the file into a shelf near the back of the room.

“Sorry!” I yell, rushing over to twist the lock.

“I was working right behind the door and it’s been knocked into me a couple of times.

Pretty sure I’m going to have a few bruises tomorrow.

” There’s a definite air of suspicion to her gaze as she assesses me.

Somehow, she doesn’t notice my explosive dread or the fact that I might vomit at any second, because she finally gives me one of her clipped nods.

She steps into the room, scanning the meticulously organized shelves and neatly stacked papers. “Everything is done,” I say, wringing my hands as I step up beside her. “There’s a clipboard next to the door that explains how I set it up. It should keep it from becoming a mess in here again.”

“In order for that to happen, everyone here would actually need to read the notes you’ve left behind. We both know the likelihood of that is low.”

“Fair,” I say with a quiet laugh. “But it’s there if they decide to use it.” She glances around the room, noting the dust bunnies in the corners and random stacks of paper destined for the trash.

“Finish cleaning in here and you’re dismissed for the day. We’ll discuss your next assignment on Monday.” Anxiety claws at my stomach, then I kick myself for being so paranoid.

“Yes, ma’am. It’ll be spotless in here.”

“Make sure it’s done,” she says with a stern nod, then leaves me in the silence. My breath hitches in a long, shuddering release, like her scrutiny had stolen the air from my lungs.

My eyes dart to the hidden file, but I can’t risk locking the door again, so I focus on cleaning.

The words I was reading replay through my mind, and I’m so stuck in my thoughts that I don’t even hear the door open.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and I yelp and jerk away.

I whirl around, unconvinced my heart won’t smash straight through my chest.

This stress is going to send me to an early grave.

“Whoa, easy… it’s just me.” Elas’s brows draw together as he holds both hands up, showing me his palms. It’s a submissive display I’ve noticed from his kind—a way of communicating they aren’t a threat.

“You scared me.” I take a deep breath and attempt to calm my rapid heart.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he says, and I immediately register the stress on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I step forward, surrounding myself with his familiar scent. It’s a comfort, one I’ve become far too reliant on, and my pulse charges right back up to a hundred when I remember why.

His black eyes land on mine, silently searching my face. “You first, baby. Why do you look like you’re about to hit the floor? ”

A shudder travels up my spine at the soft way he speaks to me, and I scoot even closer.

“I have to tell you something,” I whisper, and if it wasn’t for his enhanced hearing, I don’t think the words would’ve made it to his ears.

“Something big, Elas, and I…” I tilt my head up and find him watching me intently.

“I’m afraid?” It comes out as a question, and his entire demeanor softens as he wraps an arm around my waist and settles his hand on the small of my back.

“You never have to be afraid with me, August,” he whispers back just as quietly, and I blow out a shaky breath as I nod.

“I… I did something.”

“Okay,” he says, and the silence stretches as I steel my nerves. “What sort of something?”

“You remember the folder I found? The one with that word on it?” He nods, but doesn’t speak. “When I came in this morning, there were workers here emptying the secret file room. It’s all going away, Elas. They’re taking it, and I’d never learn what was inside if I didn’t do something.”

“August—”

“I snuck in,” I whisper, even quieter somehow. “Into the room. When they were carrying boxes away, they left the door unlocked and I snuck in and stole a bunch of files.”

“You could’ve been caught,” he hisses, his giant hands landing on my biceps as my eyes snap wide. “What is it with the reckless people in my life? Fuck, you could’ve been caught, and then what? ”

“But I wasn’t caught,” I argue weakly, and he narrows his eyes. “I wasn’t! And I got the files out, and I read one and…” I trail off, my eyes darting aside. “And it… well, it…”

“Tell me, doc.”

“It said that these marks come up… well, they come up between… mates. Fated mates.” I cringe at the ridiculousness of the words coming from my mouth, and glance up to see his brows drawn tight.

“Marks? Plural? So there have been more before now?”

“Based on the reports in that folder, yes. It sounds like…” I trail off as the impact of his words hits me. “You aren’t surprised,” I say aloud as my mind whirs, and the pieces start connecting in my head. “You aren’t … are you?”

Suddenly, that unknown emotion I keep spotting on his face make sense.

Guilt.

“Why aren’t you surprised?” I demand, desperate for him to tell me I’ve got it wrong, that I’m being paranoid, and that he just needs a moment to let this all sink in.

But he stays silent, and those heavy eyes only get guiltier.

I try to back up, but his hands tighten on my arms and hold me in place. “Elas?”

He says nothing, just slowly shakes his head and stares at me like he can will the words to stay inside my mouth.

“You knew,” I accuse, and he shakes his head again, though he doesn’t deny it.

“You knew , and you kept it from me?” Sudden, intense hurt rips through me, and I gasp as my hand flies to my chest. The mark scorches under my skin, and that string that binds my middle, that connects me to Elas—to my mate— cinches so tight I can barely breathe.

“August, let me explain.” His voice is whisper-quiet, but the admission hits me like he shouted. It cuts me deeper, and I pull away from him.

I’m no fool.

He’s allowing me to go.

If he truly wanted me to stay put, it would take very little effort on his part to hold me captive.