Page 49 of Elas

“Monitor him at all times. If he shows any interest in what he saw, any at all… you come to me.Directlyto me.”

“Yes, sir. You have my word.”

“I need some time to think about this. In the meantime, your discretion is appreciated.” There’s a threat in his words that he doesn’t even attempt to hide, and I nod my understanding.

“Nothing we discuss will leave this room, Commander.”

He gives a final nod, an obvious dismissal, as he turns back to his wax block and picks at the flecks stuck in his ring. “Be on the lookout for my summons, Elas.”

August

I’mgoingtopassout. 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 approximatelyeighty 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’sElas.Safety and sunshine and impossibly wide smilesand 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.

Noneof 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 thisshipment, 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.

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