Page 34 of Elas (Mate’s Mark #2)

August

Elas is dead on his feet as he walks me to work.

Dark rings sag under his eyes, a result of the few hours of sleep he managed.

Halfway into the day Saturday, another messenger showed up, ordering Elas to report for an emergency twenty-four-hour watch assignment.

It stretched into thirty hours before he came crashing home last night, barely able to stand.

It was undoubtedly a power play by Commander Khors. He did the same thing after their last conversation, when he was put on night rotation for a few shifts. It’s Khors’s way of reminding Elas who holds the authority.

We stop outside the clinic doors and his exhausted eyes meet mine. “Go get some rest,” I say, fighting the urge to lift onto my feet and kiss him.

“You and I both know that’s not happening. Please be careful, doc,” he murmurs, glancing through the glass doors.

“Don’t worry about me. ”

“That’s like asking me not to breathe, baby.”

Gods, he’s sweet. All I want to do is throw myself into his arms, but I settle for a smile instead. He smiles in return, but it’s thin, failing to touch the concern in his eyes. “I’ll be careful.”

“I should spend the day here with you.”

“You’re barely able to keep your eyes open, and it’ll only raise suspicion if you’re standing over me like a guard dog. Trust me, El.”

“I do. Fuck, I do… it’s everyone else I don’t trust.”

“If it’s too risky, I swear I’ll back off and wait for another time. I won’t be reckless.”

He stares at me for a long time, conflict swirling in the dark depths of his eyes. “Come back to me, doc.”

“Always,” I whisper, and I can see how he fights himself to take a step away from me. He says nothing else, but he doesn’t need to. His eyes say everything he can’t right now, and I try to communicate the same silent affection.

And then I turn and walk inside.

Everything is once again calm as I enter the clinic.

Xeni spots me from across the hallway and waves, but doesn’t approach.

Nothing is out of the ordinary as I head towards the locker room.

Once I’m inside and alone, I grab a towel, a pair of scrub pants, and two tops from the freshly laundered spares.

Medical work is messy, and despite the chief’s warning to always have my own scrubs clean, there are sets for emergencies.

Elas and I decided if I’m going to be somewhere I’m not supposed to be, I should reduce the footprint I leave behind, and that means scent as well.

While my natural smell can’t be erased, this will dull it and make it fade faster once I leave a room.

I change clothes, and have barely made it into the hallway when steps approach from behind me.

“Mr. Beckett,” Chief Aeliphis calls, and I wait for her to catch up. “Come. Your new assignment is ready.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Curiosity wars with frustration as she leads me down the hall.

If she places me too far away, this will be a hell of a lot harder, but thankfully, we walk into the same corridor.

We march past the file room I need to sneak inside, and I don’t even glance at the door or keypad as we pass, in case she has eyes on the back of her head.

Given how she notices everything that happens in this place, it wouldn’t surprise me.

At the end of the hallway is a rarely used restroom directly across from another room. Very few people come down here, and it’s eerily quiet. She scans her keycard and opens the door to a chaotic supply closet.

“Let me guess, patients still aren’t comfortable being seen by a human,” I deadpan, unable to keep the dryness from my voice.

“Surprisingly enough, they are coming around, these things take time. We can be… stubborn.”

“You don’t say,” I mutter, then clear my throat and stand straighter when she hikes that sharp brow at me.

“Believe it or not, I understand your frustration in wanting to make a difference. Sometimes that isn’t as cut and dry as we’d like it to be.

” Her voice gentles, and as I meet her eyes, I’m reminded of my conversation with Elas yesterday.

Chief Aeliphis spent part of her career at Ljómur—that is an indisputable fact.

Was she trying to make a difference there, or am I seeing what I want to see in her expression? Is my chronic optimism looking for the good where there is none?

“Thank you,” I say, forcing a smile. “Busy work has been frustrating when my skills could be used elsewhere.”

She cocks her head to the side, her lavender hair falling over her forehead. “Tell me something, August.”

Not Mr. Beckett, but August . Maybe we’re finally getting somewhere.

“Of course,” I say. “Anything.”

“Why is a man raised in rebel camps and taught to hate us so eager to help?”

“May I speak honestly, ma’am?” She nods, gesturing for me to continue.

“Sometimes I think we hate each other simply because we’ve been told that’s what we’re supposed to do.

Was it right how your kind crossed the divide and essentially conquered humanity?

No, of course it wasn’t.” She hikes a brow, but says nothing.

“But that was before my lifetime… before my parents’ lifetime, even.

If we aren’t allowed to learn from our mistakes—if we’re not allowed to grow— than what are we doing?

If an entire century can go by without us evolving to live together, then maybe we deserve this. ”

“This?”

I wave my hand vaguely. “This destroyed planet. This never-ending hostility. This… just all of this.”

“Perhaps you’re correct,” she says, her voice so quiet it’s nearly a whisper. “Perhaps we do deserve this.” She doesn’t speak for another few seconds before she shakes her head, seeming to snap out of it. “I expect this to be done in a week, Mr. Beckett. Not a day longer. ”

“Yes, ma’am.” She hesitates, on the verge of saying more, but instead gives me her usual clipped nod and walks off, leaving me to stare at the mess with a sigh.

The morning ticks away in a state of preoccupied impatience. Every thirty seconds, I stop to listen for noise outside, and it seems like someone is always lingering in the hallway or close by. Lunch passes, and as I leave the break room, Chief Aeliphis pops her head in.

“Some idiot just rolled a van with six people inside. I need all hands on deck.” The other medics in the room stand as one, and I hesitate. “Sorry, Mr. Beckett. I can’t have anything slowing us down right now.”

“Understood, ma’am,” I say, and they disappear around the corner.

This is my chance.

I attempt to walk normally as I head back to work, glancing over my shoulder and straining my ears for signs of someone approaching. The hallway is empty as I swipe my card to access the file room and duck inside, listening again but finding silence.

It’s all very anticlimactic as I pull the files from their hiding spot in the back shelf and head back to the storage closet.

As soon as I close the door behind me, I pull a large cardboard box of paper towels off the highest shelf.

The files get buried underneath the rolls, and I replace the box, tucking another in front of it.

An entire weekend’s worth of stress was spent over something that took less than two minutes.

The rest of the day crawls by at a snail’s pace, and no one bothers me as I work. It surprises me I’m being left alone, knowing there’s a target on my back. But there’s only one way out of this hallway, and I suppose that was the chief’s primary purpose in placing me here.

I lose myself in the mindless work, and by the time there’s a gentle knock on the door, I’ve made adequate progress. Sure, there are boxes and bottles spread out on the floor, but disassembly is a crucial part of developing a system.

Elas steps inside, glancing around with an amused grin. “You and Ronan would get along, strictly based on your love of organization.” Nostalgia colors his expression for a fleeting moment before he meets my eyes, asking the silent question.

I nod, glancing towards the door. “No one is coming,” he says, and I pull the box with the hidden files to the ground. Elas doesn’t say a word as he shoves them into the messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and I put the box back into place.

Everything is as it should be.

He leads the way as we weave through the hallways, and I’m in awe of his confident strut.

He’s someone with nothing to hide, despite carrying evidence that could damn us both.

My gait is more unsure as I hurry to keep up with his long strides, but no one spares us a glance.

We’re almost at the exit when someone calls my name, and we both turn to find Chief Aeliphis striding our way.

“I believe you’ve got something of mine,” she says, and my veins freeze to solid ice.

Did someone see me? Hear me?

Was I not careful enough ?

“I… what?” I breathe, and Elas tenses beside me. Her brow lifts in that practiced arch, and I realize I’m not breathing, my lungs refusing to inhale the oxygen I need.

“Those are my spare scrubs, are they not?”

Relief makes a rapid-fire sprint through my body, and a slightly hysterical giggle leaves me as she becomes increasingly bewildered. I clear my throat, attempting to steady myself. “Yes, ma’am. Unfortunate accident with my breakfast, I’m afraid. I’ll have them laundered and returned tomorrow.”

“Very well,” she says after a pause. “See that you do.” She glances at Elas and nods before turning and walking away.

Autopilot kicks in as Elas’s hand gently touches my forearm, steering me towards the exit, and I blindly follow him out into the sun.

He could lead me straight off the edge of a cliff, and I’m so distracted I wouldn’t notice until I was a puddle on the ground.

Elas doesn’t turn in my direction, but he gets close enough that our arms bump as we walk.

“I need you to breathe now, baby.” He’s calm, while I’m fighting the bile climbing the back of my throat and trying not to collapse.

“Come on… in and out. As much as I’d love to give you mouth-to-mouth, the tusks might get in the way.

I’ve never tried, and this doesn’t seem like the time for experiments. ”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of me, still slightly hysterical, but it snaps me out of my fog. I brush my hand against his, grounding myself with his warmth. “I’m sorry… I’m not very good at this. ”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he says as he briefly wraps his pinkie around mine. “Let’s just make it home before we have another panic attack, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say with a snorted laugh. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask for, doc.”