Page 7 of Elas (Mate’s Mark #2)

“Make no mistake, Mr. Beckett. You are a rebel human on a military base that has no love for your kind. This isn’t freedom .

You are not free. You are under guard twenty-four-seven, and are not allowed to even breathe unless someone else permits it.

By every imaginable definition of the word, you are a prisoner, and you’d do well to remember that. ”

Anger shines through the calm control in her eyes, and my head dips as my gaze falls to the floor.

My anxiety ramps up to a hundred and suddenly, I’m desperate to turn and run to Elas.

Hide behind the safety of his body and let him fight these battles for me.

Let him protect me, because something tells me he would.

But a cold dose of reality is poured over my head, and the truth of my situation hits me hard in that moment. Elas is my reluctant savior, and nothing more.

We aren’t friends.

We are strangers, tossed together in a circumstance neither of us could’ve foreseen.

“Apologies, ma’am. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” She stares for another few seconds, but I fix my eyes on the ground.

Keys jingle in her hand as she unlocks a room lined with floor-to-ceiling cabinets.

She sizes me up, nodding to herself as she opens a cabinet full of pale green scrubs.

Without sparing me a glance, she hands them over and moves to a different wall.

A blush burns my cheeks as she digs in a drawer and pulls out a stack of underwear and socks, along with some white undershirts.

“A large should fit.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, but I nod my agreement, anyway. “Yes, ma’am. ”

“Keep a spare set of clothes in your locker at all times. This is dirty work, and I don’t tolerate stained or sloppy uniforms. You’re expected to be dressed and ready when you arrive.

” My filthy sneakers are a stark contrast against the spotless floors, and her lip draws up as she glares at them. “I take it you’ll need shoes?”

Another embarrassed flush burns at my neck, and I bite back my argument that the cleanliness of my shoes has never affected my ability to save someone’s life.

But this isn’t a camp, and I need to fall in line.

“Yes, ma’am. Size twelve if possible.”

“Those will have to wait until tomorrow.” She sneers again at my dingy sneakers before she deflates with a sigh.

“Come on. Let’s get your locker settled.

” We spend the next half hour getting my locker assigned and setting a combination, and she reminds me several times that she can get into it any time she wishes for random checks.

I’m not really sure what she thinks I could hide in the small compartment. It’s not like I have any possessions, and the locker is barely big enough to fit a backpack inside. But my tiny spark of fight is gone, so I only meekly assure her that she’s welcome to search it at any time.

We head towards the hallway and she shoves the door open with a bang, nearly taking someone’s head off as we leave. “Whoa!” he shouts. “Watch where you’re—oh. Sorry, Chief.”

Her chuckle is surprisingly warm and genuine, a stark contrast to the annoyed noises she’s made around me. “Nice save, Xenesis.”

Solid white eyes with no pupil at all meet mine and widen against shockingly pale skin.

Two twisting, bone-like horns jut from the ivory hair that flows down his back.

If it wasn’t for the slight flush on his cheeks and his pink-tinted lips, it would look like he stepped right out of a black-and-white photo.

He’s a couple inches taller than I am, lean and graceful, and when he tosses his hair back, it shimmers in a faint rainbow sheen.

Pinks and oranges and blues and purples shine like a barely-there oilslick across his strands.

Aeliphis follows his line of sight to where I stand behind her. “Ah, yes. Xenesis, this is August Beckett. He will be assisting in the clinic.”

“But he’s a…” Still staring, he leans forward, blocking his mouth with his hand as though it’ll stop me from hearing him. “A human .”

“Brilliant observation, as always,” she deadpans.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I offer with a nervous smile. He tilts his head as he stares at me, like he can’t quite decide what to make of me. “Just August is fine.”

“Oh, um, alright then. You can call me Xeni.” He glances at the chief, like he’s worried he’s doing something wrong. “Do you, uh… know what you’re doing?”

I chuckle despite myself at the blunt question. “I imagine there will be a lot for me to learn, but yes, I have experience.”

Aeliphis glances at the clock. “His first real shift starts tomorrow, but he has two hours with us today, and I have things to do. Give him a tour of the facility and explain our operations. Also, take him to the admin offices and get his keycard. The most barebones access,” she stresses, narrowing her eyes at me once more.

“They should have the order in the system, but if not, have them come to me for authorization.”

“You got it, ma’am,” he says with a two-fingered salute, and she rolls her eyes as she turns and walks away.

“Something tells me she doesn’t like me very much,” I mutter as I watch her retreating back, and Xeni chuckles.

“Hate to say it, but you should probably get used to it. In the cities, our kind comingle with humans more frequently, but around here, our primary interactions are with prisoners. That attack on the convoys affected a lot of us here. Those were our friends, or at least people we’d spoken to in passing. ”

I bite at my lip, glancing again towards the closed door. “Chief told me not to mention being a prisoner.”

Xeni rolls his eyes. “Come on, man. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots.”

I nod with a sigh and shake my head. “You have no reason to believe me, but most of the people in those cells had no idea the attack was happening. I certainly didn’t.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he says, those unnervingly pale eyes assessing me. “Don’t waste your breath trying to convince anyone here of your innocence. They’re going to make their own assumptions.”

“What about you? What’s your assumption?”

His head tilts again, that flowing hair falling over his shoulder. “I put weight in actions, not rumors. Not everyone is so open-minded, though. Be prepared. You’ll turn a lot of heads.”

“Great,” I mutter, rubbing at the sides of my temples as the beginning of a headache thumps against my skull .

Xeni nods at the scrubs in my hand. “Change clothes and we’ll get started. Chief won’t want you running around in civies, and it sounds like you don’t need to give her any more reasons to hate you.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, and his easy chuckle relieves a sliver of my anxiety. “Yeah, okay. Give me five.” I tuck myself into a shower stall, tugging the curtain behind me. My back thuds against the wall and I sink onto the bench, resting my face in my hands.

The optimism that’s been fueling my actions all day is now covered in stress fractures, feeling like it might shatter at any moment. I take a few deep breaths, closing my eyes and allowing myself to feel the frustration.

My pulse calms with my steady breathing, and I shove the impending sense of defeat back down.

Methodically, I remove Elas’s clothes as I replace them with the pale green of my new uniform.

My hand clutches around his shirt and sweats, and I miss their comfort as the cold, unfamiliar cloth sits on my skin.

Xeni waits for me in the locker room, and I force a calm smile.

“Ready?” he asks as I slip Elas’s clothes into my locker, grinning despite my apprehension. They take up half the space on their own.

“Ready as I’m going to be."