Page 66 of Elas (Mate’s Mark #2)

Elas

In a history saturated with terrible ideas, this might win a gold fucking medal.

August was already struggling to keep his composure, and this asshole throws out the use of shock collars in casual conversation like it’s an everyday event. But I suppose around here, it is. August’s face has gone pale, his throat fighting against a swallow, and Gale’s mistrust is growing.

“Your technology is impressive,” I say, forcing the attention back to myself. “This makes the hospital at Glaston look outdated, though I’ll deny it if you ever tell Chief Aeliphis I said so.”

Gale’s chuckle is weak, but his shoulders loosen as we continue through the hallway.

Most of the rooms are identical aside from the differing equipment in each one.

The air is thick with bleach at this end of the hall, but it doesn’t erase the coppery undertones of blood.

A cleaning crew works inside the last room, scrubbing a horrifyingly large crimson stain off the ground.

August pales further as one of them wrings rusty red water from her mop.

Dim light shines through an exterior door at the end, and I skim the barred locking system it uses.

It doesn’t appear to need a keycard to open from the inside, though it might set off an alarm.

We return to the main lobby, and Gale’s Curtiphan assistant dashes forward to unlock another hallway.

The doors open to a similar stretch of windows, but beyond them are rows of…

Cells.

It’s the only accurate description. Nyx explained them to us, so I should’ve expected them, but that claustrophobic fear claws at my chest all the same.

Tiny rooms with barred doors and no privacy, with a narrow cot on one side and a sink and toilet on the other.

Most of the beds are full, the occupants huddled beneath threadbare blankets.

They don’t even bother to look at us.

One human woman sits on the toilet and stares as we pass, seemingly unconcerned with her nakedness. Her eyes are blank, no emotion left inside them, and her cheeks are sunken. A metallic collar clamps around her thin neck, so tight it indents her skin.

She looks away, and we keep walking.

Cell after cell, it’s more of the same. Bloodstained clothes and trembling bodies, atrophied muscles and bone-thin limbs. Most of them barely even move, and I don’t know if it’s from weakness or if they’ve just lost the will to live .

I have the fleeting thought that it would be a mercy to kill them all, and wonder if they’d embrace death. If I were in there shoes, I might welcome its quiet.

A glowing mark shines from the forearm of a sleeping human man, and the reminder is stark. The very reason they’re here may be the only thing that sustains them.

Their mates.

My attention is caught by an Anunian, leaning against the wall of his cell and staring off into space.

Dark bruises cover his exposed chest, and weeping sores dot his skin.

A body that was once muscled and strong is now concave and sickly, and his tails are bound with zipties and fastened to his collar.

His gaze meets mine, and despite the distance, I see the emptiness in his eyes. They’re dead—hollow and haunted.

Hopeless.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to breathe as his face morphs into Ronan’s, and I imagine it’s my best friend locked inside these walls.

August was right to come here. Was right to demand action.

This has to stop.

“Nothing too terribly exciting in here,” Gale says, bringing me out of my head, and I glance beyond him to find the Khileon guard with a bored expression on his face. Are they really so numb that this no longer elicits any sort of emotion? I tamp down my fury, knowing I can’t afford to slip.

“Indeed. Once you’ve seen one prison, you’ve seen them all,” I say, keeping my tone flat.

The Anunian continues to stare at me, his lips flexing in the slightest sign of disgust. As quiet as it is in this wing, I’m sure he heard me.

There’s no way he didn’t. My stomach burns with guilt as he turns away and stares at the wall.

Another potential savior, proven to be nothing more than a monster.

I’ve never felt weak until now.

This bleak existence is their reality, and I can’t even handle mere minutes inside it. Any delusions insisting this isn’t happening are ripped away, invisible hands holding my eyelids open and forcing me to see.

Relief floods my body as we leave the cells, and in this moment, I hate myself.

Gale turns to us once we’re in the lobby, and I force myself to fight the acidic bite of bile in the back of my throat. “Given that it’s late, I’ve sent someone off to prepare your rooms,” he says, and it takes me a few seconds to comprehend.

“Room,” I correct, and he quirks his eyes between me and August. “Until the transfer paperwork is handled and he’s officially in your care, the human is my responsibility. It’s my neck on the line, and he will remain in my watch.”

“Thought you said he can be trusted?” Gale asks, and I scoff.

“Can any human really be trusted? Do what you please with him when I’m gone, but for now, he doesn’t leave my sight.” He stares for a long second before nodding and leading us back toward the main entrance, the sky darkening quickly now that the sun has vanished beyond the horizon.

There’s one final set of locked double doors, but we walk past them without comment. “What’s down that hall?” I ask.

“Research facility,” he says, shutting the subject down, but I probe regardless.

“More patient rooms?”

“No, that hallway is only for staff.” He narrows his eyes at me. “ Research staff.”

I hold my hands up, palms facing out. “Fine by me. All this science stuff is beyond my comprehension, anyway. With my luck, I’d blow something up.”

“Nu’vak are pros at destruction, aren’t they?” he mutters, and I smirk but don’t respond.

It’s oddly quiet when we step outside. A strange sense of foreboding surrounds this place, even without knowing the horrors contained inside the unassuming building.

The lack of trees and vegetation in this area means even the insects stay far away.

The breeze that blows over my skin is so dry it’s like sandpaper, and my instincts scream at me to run.

I turn to Gale instead. “I need to grab our bags from the vehicle. We’ll be in the guard barracks?” Gale’s assistant takes over, reminding us which building we’ll be sleeping in tonight. The keycard she handed me when we arrived has been programmed to the exterior door and our room.

“I trust you can find your way from here?” Gale asks, and I nod and wave him off.

“Barracks are all the same. What time should we report in the morning?”

He glances at August beside me, who hasn’t spoken a word since the few he muttered as we walked by the examination rooms. His silence is past the necessity of keeping quiet.

It’s bone deep, with a sorrow I can feel to my soul.

“Be in the main lobby at 0600, ready to work,” Gale says, and August bobs his head obediently.

We excuse ourselves, eyes boring into us as we circle the building to the parking lot. The attention comes from all sides—the guards in the watchtowers, the soldiers monitoring the doors, and the small cluster whose company we’re leaving.

We collect our bags in silence, and August follows me closely as I press the keycard against the lock and wait for it to beep.

We step inside to blessedly cool air, and a few heads whip up from a common room directly to our left.

Their eyes narrow, their curiosity obvious, but when they spot my rank, their gazes drop to the ground.

One stands and snaps to attention, and a few offer tentative greetings of, “Evening, Officer.”

I only nod, exhausted from the long day and ready to get August alone.

He’s nearly vibrating from holding his emotions in check.

Our room is the last one in the front hallway, and I buzz us inside.

The familiarity is a minor comfort. It’s almost identical to my apartment back at the Glaston base, just on a smaller scale.

A few water bottles wait on the counter with a stack of MREs beside them.

“Are you hungry?” I ask gently, and August shakes his head without a word, staring at the ground. “Sweetheart?” I whisper, and his chin wobbles as he lifts his eyes, tears pooling as he opens his mouth and closes it again.

“Fuck, baby,” I murmur as I sweep him into my arms, and he tucks his face into my neck as the first sob breaks loose.

I take him into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

I’m not confident enough in this building’s construction to assume that sounds won’t carry.

Water taps in loud, steady plunks against the base of the tub, and I drop to the ground with August in my lap.

My fingers weave through his hair as his entire body shakes, his tears soaking the shoulder of my armor.

Powerful, gasping sobs force their way from his throat as I try to soothe him, but it’s all in vain.

For every tear that falls, two more take its place until it feels like we might drown in them.

His hands clutch at my skin as he presses himself even deeper into my neck.

Hair tickles my chin, his fingers rough as they fight to hold on, but I only wrap him in my arms and hug him against me.

Minutes tick by, and slowly his sobs turn to hiccups, and his river of tears dries to a slow trickle.

“I never should’ve brought you here,” I finally whisper, kissing his hair.

“We can go, August. There’s been nothing signed, no official transfer to give them the authority to hold you here.

I outrank them. Let’s just leave, baby. Let me take you home. ”

August shakes his head, fingers clutching the leather of my chestpiece.

“We can’t,” he rasps, a shuddering sniffle wracking his chest. “We can’t, El.

Did you see them inside those cells? They weren’t…

” He hiccups again, trembling as he takes another moment to collect himself. “They were barely alive. ”

Memories of those dead eyes flash through my mind, and I heave a shaky breath. “I know. I saw.”

“What could be worth it? What could they possibly be doing that justifies draining the life from so many people? They had them in shock collars, for gods sake. No better than animals, leashed and locked in a cage.”

My eyes close, savoring the warmth of his skin against mine. “I hate this,” I whisper.

“We have to do something, Elas. We have to try .” He pulls back, his eyes bloodshot and swollen. Sadness radiates from them, so profound it’s a punch to the gut.

“I don’t know how,” I admit. Hopelessness claws at my throat, threatening to close it completely as my mind processes the hundreds of ways this could all go wrong.

“This is so much bigger than us. I don’t even know where to start.

If there were more of us, maybe we could overpower them, but it’s just us, August.”

“We’re enough,” he says, his eyes so pleading that my feet itch to hit the ground and do something, anything, to see him smile again. “We have to be enough. We’re all they have.”

A rueful smile pulls on my lips that he mirrors, and I reach up to swipe at the dampness on his cheeks. “Can’t we wait for the heroes to swoop in and save the day?”

“We are the heroes this time, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah,” I whisper, weaving my fingers through his hair and tugging him closer. I stop him millimeters away from my face, his breath ghosting over my lips in unsteady puffs. “I was afraid of that, too.”