Page 6 of Rescued by the Alien Hit Man (Villains Do It Better)
CHAPTER 6
MIA
T he sharp chirp of Cikarius’s device sliced through the humid air of Dufair’s jungle moon, an unnatural sound amidst the symphony of nocturnal creatures. My gaze flickered to his hand, drawn by the urgency of that digital cry. He glanced at the screen, and I—driven by a compulsion I didn’t fully understand—peered over his shoulder.
A picture flashed before my eyes. Me. But not the grainy image from the slavers’ grim collection; this one was recent, detailed, chilling in its clarity. A fool—that’s what I was, how I felt as blood turned to ice in my veins. My heart hammered against my ribcage, a frantic beat threatening to burst free.
He shoved the device in his pocket, guilt flashing in his eyes. “You weren’t meant to see that.”
How could I have been so blind? Every smile he had given me, every touch—I dissected them all now, searching for the lie beneath the surface. The way my name rolled off his tongue with a strange tenderness, was that just part of the act? The scent of his skin, a mix of the alien foliage and something uniquely him, had I imagined the comfort it brought?
In the luminescent glow of the jungle, dread crept over me like the creeping vines on the jungle floor. The trust I’d extended to him, the warmth I’d allowed myself to feel in his presence—it crumbled, replaced by a sense of betrayal that twisted my stomach into knots.
“You did tell me you were dangerous.”
An internal war raged within me, an onslaught of emotions battling for dominance. Confusion clouded my mind like the dense fog that hung over the luminescent wilds at dawn. Could I reconcile the man who had saved me with the one who might have orchestrated it all? My hands shook with the force of my inner tumult, fingers brushing against the cool metal of my field research kit—a reminder of the life I knew, the reality I trusted.
I sniffed, attempting to center myself, to find some semblance of the analytical calm that defined me. But even the familiar scents of damp soil and exotic flowers couldn’t mask the acrid stink of deception that now permeated the surrounding air.
His hand reached out, a silent offering, but I recoiled. His touch had once sparked a current that ran deep, igniting sensations that left me breathless and hungry for more. Now, the thought filled me with an ache, a longing for something genuine that I feared had never been real.
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my racing pulse, to shut out the vibrant world that suddenly felt like a facade. When I opened them again, it was to the sight of his glowing yellow eyes, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle with both anticipation and dread.
His expression wavered, hinting at an emotion I couldn’t quite place. Was it regret? Or simply the calculation of a being whose very existence was predicated on deception?
The silence stretched on, thick as the undergrowth that surrounded us, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to move, to flee from the truth that threatened to engulf me.
And so, I ran, darting past him into the unknown depths of the jungle, each step propelling me forward but no closer to understanding the enigma that was Cikarius. As the underbrush clawed at my clothes and skin, a single thought echoed through the cacophony of fear and desire that consumed me:
Could I survive the night?
I stumbled through the underbrush, my breaths coming out in ragged gasps. The luminescent leaves cast eerie shadows on the ground, and every snap of a twig underfoot sent jolts of panic up my spine.
“Mia, stop.” Cikarius’s voice cut through the dense foliage, a low rumble that sounded both commanding and desperate.
I paused, heart hammering, chest heaving. His words carried weight, an anchor in the storm of my thoughts. It didn’t surprise me that he could catch up to me so quickly. I turned to face him, his silhouette framed by the otherworldly glow of Dufair’s nocturnal flora.
“Can I trust you?” The question finally broke free, laced with vulnerability.
His gaze never wavered as he took a step closer. “Yes.”
“You weren’t in that area of the jungle randomly.” The statement wasn’t a question; I knew it, he knew it.
“No.”
“Rumors from Alfataken Station…” My voice trailed off, the memory of whispered tales sending a shiver down my spine.
Cikarius closed the distance between us, each step measured. He stopped just a breath away, close enough that I could see the faint gleam of those marks on his chest, scars from a life I couldn’t comprehend.
“Every mission given to me, I’ve completed,” he said, the glow from the plants casting his purple skin in haunting hues.
“Every person you killed,” I corrected, bile rising in my throat.
He nodded, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something resembling pain flash across his features.
“Everything changed when I saw you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I had to save you.”
“And claim me?” My voice was a tremulous whisper, betraying the turmoil within.
“Yes,” he admitted. “But we, the Marbhadh, we’re not supposed to feel that. Our fated mate is engineered out of us. We’re only meant to kill.”
The revelation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scents of damp soil and alien blooms. A part of me longed to reach out, to bridge the gap between us, but fear rooted me to the spot.
“Then what am I to you?” I asked, the question tearing at my very soul.
“You are the exception,” he said, closing the last bit of space between us until his warmth enveloped me. “My anomaly.”
“Every girl loves to be called an anomaly.”
“Mia, you are everything to me. My fated mate. I knew it the moment I claimed you and my skin glowed with each touch.”
In that moment, the jungle seemed to hold its breath, the usual cacophony silenced by the gravity of his admission. His touch was gentle, a contrast to the strength and savagery I knew lay just beneath the surface.
Could I trust a creature designed to kill? Was the pull I felt towards him part of some grand design or simply the chaos of an uncharted heart?
As Cikarius’s arms encircled me, a protective cocoon in the wilds of Dufair, I realized I might never have the answers. But as I leaned into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against mine, I decided that, for now, it was enough.
Cikarius stood motionless, his yellow eyes fixed on me, waiting. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm, threatening to betray the fear I fought to contain.
“You could have killed me. Any time,” I said, my voice quivering as I spoke, the list of moments flashing through my mind. “When the slavers caught me, when we crossed the laghairt, in the cave, even now.”
“Yet here you stand,” he said, his tone steady but not unkind.
“It’s true then? You’re a hit man?”
“Resigned,” he said, as if tasting the word, letting it roll off his tongue. He nodded slowly. “For you.”
My mind reeled. Could such a thing be possible? A genetically engineered assassin, defying his own creation for… what? For me?
“Is that even possible?” I pressed, searching his face for any hint of deception.
“I don’t know. No one else has ever tried.” His shoulders tensed, the glowing marks across his chest visible even in the dim light from the bioluminescent moss clinging to the trees.
I looked up to see the conflict etched into the lines of his stoic face. It was a vulnerability I hadn’t expected from someone so formidable.
“Every instinct in me is engineered for killing,” he said, “but none of that matters anymore. Not since I found you.”
“Then show me,” I said, my voice barely audible above the hum of the jungle. “Show me I’m more to you than just another mission.”
His arms tightened around me, not with possession but with promise. He pulled away, clasped my hand, and led me deeper into the shadows of the jungle.
For the first time since I’d met Cikarius, I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow. Only the heat of his body against mine and the shared heartbeat that echoed our mutual resolve.
Unable to continue, I pulled my hand from his. Too many questions, too many reservations swirled in my head. The bioluminescent glow from the moss cast eerie shadows across Cikarius’s face, his yellow eyes reflecting the light like some nocturnal predator. My mind was a maelstrom, swirling with the desperate desire to trust him, to lean into the warmth of his presence, and the icy dread that he might still be what he was created to be—a killer.
“Can I really believe you won’t turn on me?” I said, my voice barely rising above the sound of our synchronized breathing. “Your genetics, they were designed for one purpose.”
Cikarius stood motionless, a statue carved from the very darkness that threatened to consume us both. His silence weighed heavily between us, and I felt the chasm of doubt widen.
“When I look at you, I don’t see the assassin,” I said, my gaze fixed on the undulating shadows that played across his muscular frame. “But it’s there, isn’t it? Part of you?”
My throat constricted around the next words, confessing more than just fear. “I can’t help but want you, even though part of me is terrified that one day…you might fulfill your mission. And that mission could be me.”
The intensity in his gaze never wavered, yet something shifted within those fathomless eyes—a flicker of something human, something kindred. My chest tightened at the vulnerability that bled through the cracks of his facade, my own defenses threatening to crumble.
“Every moment I am with you, Cikarius, I’m fighting myself. Fighting the instinct that says you’re my soulmate against the fear that it’s all just a prelude to my end.” My fingers grazed the cool metal of the pendant around my neck, a present from my mother before she died, a tangible reminder of the life I clung to.
He reached out slowly, his large hand enveloping mine with a gentleness that belied his strength. Warmth spread from his touch, seeping into the icy tendrils of fear that wrapped around my heart. His gesture, so full of intent and care, spoke louder than any reassurance could have.
“Please, I need to know,” I said, my voice trailing off as if the rest of my plea hung suspended in the charged air between us.
His hand tightened around mine, anchoring me to the present, to him, to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, we could transcend the past that haunted us both. His other hand rose, fingertips grazing my cheek with a tenderness that made my knees weaken. The simple touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine, awakening a yearning that I had no right to feel—not now, not when danger lurked within him.
I drew in a shaky breath, my resolve teetering on the edge. Would I choose to step back into the safety of solitude, or would I fall into the unknown, into him?
A distant howl echoed through the jungle, a reminder of the perils that awaited us beyond this brief respite. My pulse quickened, my decision hanging in the balance as the night closed in around us.
“Your fear… it’s a scent on the wind, Mia,” Cikarius said, his voice a melodic rumble. “But I swear on every star in this system, your safety is my commandment, one I would die to uphold.”
His declaration hung heavy in the damp air of the jungle, as substantial and tactile as the bioluminescent moss beneath our feet. My chest tightened with the weight of his words; they were an anchor in a storm, promising salvation amidst tempestuous doubts.
“I don’t know what a soulmate is,” he said, his glowing yellow gaze piercing through the shadows, latching onto mine with an intensity that felt like a physical force. “If it means a fated mate… then yes, you are mine, Mia Clarke. And I am bound to you, beyond genetics, beyond any mission I was engineered to complete.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. My instincts screamed at me to flee, to survive, but something primal within me whispered that survival might lie in the embrace of the danger before me.
“Can I truly trust you?” The question escaped my lips before I could stop it, a vulnerable admission that laid bare my inner turmoil for him to see. It wasn’t just about trusting him—it was about trusting myself to make the right choice.
Cikarius’s hand cradled my jaw with a gentleness that belied his strength. His thumb brushed against my lower lip, sending a thrill through me that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Trust is not given lightly,” he said, his words vibrating through me. “It is earned, moment by moment. Let me earn yours, Mia.”
I was caught in the gravity of his gaze, his presence, his inexplicable sincerity. A shimmering cocoon seemed to form around us, isolating us from the rest of existence. In that suspended reality, my guard lowered, inch by precarious inch. The hardness that had armored my heart softened, molten by the warmth emanating from his skin.
“Maybe…” I started, my voice barely a whisper, “maybe I can learn to trust again.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a ghost of a smile, offering a glimpse of the man who might exist beyond the assassin, the protector. His touch lingered, branding me with the promise of what could be if we dared to explore the connection that drew us inexplicably together.
His hand slid from my face to the nape of my neck, drawing me closer. The space between us closed, and I could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against mine. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he recognized the fragility of the trust that weaved between us.
In the cocoon of his arms, the world outside faded into insignificance. The dangers lurking in the jungle’s shadows, the labyrinthine politics of Alfataken Station, even the haunting secrets of Talamhmar—all paled in comparison to the immediacy of his embrace.
I tilted my head back, looking up at him, searching his glowing eyes for the truth I so desperately needed. There, in the depths of his gaze, I found something that transcended fear, something pure and unwavering. It was protection, it was promise—it was the assurance that he would stand between me and any threat, no matter the cost.
“Stay with me,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated through my core. “Let me keep you safe.”