Page 4 of Her Alien Beast
Chapter 4
AMIRA
I racealong the rocky hiking trail and pray no one is following.
My throat aches from the brutality of the orange-eyed alien male who’d attacked me, and the horrible memory drives my legs faster. Though the second male to appear on the trail had saved me, I’m smart enough not to stick around, even if he had ordered me to await his return.
It’s still early in the morning, a few hours until the hour of my wedding, and I have no desire to be caught or questioned by anyone.
I run until my side aches and my mouth tastes like copper. A glance over my shoulder proves I’m alone in the forest, save for a few harmless furry tree animals and the increasingly noisy songbirds.
In desperate need of a break, I hop off the trail and move behind a massive tree, frantically sucking in air. When my lungs finally settle, I crouch down with a stolen canteen of water.
I’ve never stolen anything in my life, but, having already consumed my own water, I hadn’t been able to ignore my rescuer’s discarded backpack. Impulsively, I had ransacked it for food and water, then took off running up the trail, determined to get as far away as possible.
For the umpteenth time this morning, I chide myself for falling asleep against the tree near the bridge, ruining my intention of getting an early start up the mountain. A shaky breath escapes me.
I can’t believe a crazy alien—I’m not sure of his exact race—attacked me and demanded my backpack. Maybe I should’ve given it up immediately, rather than refuse and antagonize him, but today isn’t a normal day. Today I’m hiding from my family and friends, not to mention Gregory. I need to remain hidden in the mountains for another couple of days, and my backpack is necessary for my survival, at least until I reach the Re’takq settlement on the other side of this mountain where I should be able to rent a cabin.
I chug half the water in the canteen and lean against the tree. The burning in my throat is gradually lessening, but I’m still beyond shaken. In fact, I realize with a start, I am shaking, physically shaking. The hands holding the canteen are unsteady, and tremors riddle my arms and legs. I feel exhausted and weak and utterly alone. A little voice in the back of my head whispers,this is happening because you were bad.
Maybe that voice is right. If I’d been a good girl and hadn’t run away, I certainly wouldn’t have gotten attacked by the orange-eyed alien. I wouldn’t have been choked and I wouldn’t have feared for my very life.
I blink back tears as worrisome thoughts race through my mind. Surely by now, my parents and family know I’m missing. A pang of regret clutches my heart at the thought of my family, even if they had spent the last ten plus years pressuring me to become Gregory’s wife. For all their flaws, I know my parents care about me. Oh God. I should’ve left a note. Why hadn’t I left a note?
The heat lightning had been mesmerizing last night, downright hypnotic, like a catalyst for my rash action. Running awayisthe boldest thing I’ve ever done.
One main thought had propelled me out the window: Gregory Whitworth isn’t the right man for me. Sure, we grew up together. But only because our parents forced us to spend time with one another. Even as a child, Gregory had been a jerk—the playground bully, the popular kid who made up nicknames for everyone. And once, when I was ten, he set my hair aflame and claimed he’d caught me playing with a firestarter.
I inhale a few deep breaths and try to convince myself that everything will be okay. I’ll stay hidden and no one will find me. No one will make me go back home and marry Gregory. I won’t have to put on that ridiculously heavy and overpriced wedding gown and stand in front of three hundred guests with my heart in my throat, dreading the rest of my life.
Once I settle down somewhat, I rise to my feet and peer around the wide tree. But just as I reach for my backpack, a firm hand clamps over my mouth. Instantly, I’m pressed to the tree by a large, muscular body.
A man—my rescuer—glares down at me with icy blue eyes. My stomach flips. I’m not certain what his race is called, but he’s unlike any alien I’ve ever seen. He’s exceedingly tall, probably over seven feet. He’s wearing black pants and a dark blue sleeveless shirt that reveals his massive biceps. His skin is a dark green shade. At first, I think he’s covered in scales, but upon further inspection, I decide his skin is naturally armored. Everything about him is fierce and hard and unforgiving.
Even though I know I don’t stand a chance against him, I try to squirm from his grasp and kick him. My efforts prove futile. His large body is pressed so firmly to mine that I can feel his warm breath fanning against my cheeks. Oh God. What does he want with me?
Maybe calling him my rescuer was premature. Perhaps he had only scared the other alien off so he could have me for himself. The thought prompts a shiver to race down my spine.
“Amira Swan,” the alien says, his deep rumbling voice sounding almost sensuous, despite the sternness of his tone. “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth now. If you scream, you’ll be sorry. Do you understand?”
I nod as a full body tremble overtakes me. How does he know my name? What will he do if I scream? He looks like a man of his word, so I decide not to test him, at least for now.
Though the stranger uncovers my mouth, he doesn’t move his body away from mine. The chilling knowledge that I’m his captive resonates inside me, making me feel faint.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asks. “There’s a reward on your head.”
My guts turn to water. A reward on my head! Of course. That’s how he knows my name. And not only does my family know I’m missing, but they’ve gone public already. Well, maybe not public, but they’ve at least informed the authorities. I get the sense that this alien works in law enforcement. I can’t be sure, but I think he must’ve been chasing the orange-eyed alien who had attacked me. In any case, he’s wearing a blaster on his hip and regular citizens of Marryyn don’t carry weapons.
“I’m not in trouble,” I say, trembling harder in his grip, “I-I just wish to remain hidden for a while. Who-who are you anyway?”
“My name is Vlann D’Zorr. I’m a bounty hunter. The man who attacked you was a wanted criminal with a twenty-five thousand galactic credit bounty on his head.”
“Did he get away?” The thought of the orange-eyed alien appearing out of nowhere makes my blood run cold.
“He was captured by Enforcers in the hover lot,” the bounty hunter says, narrowing his steely blue eyes.
“Oh,” I say, “I’m sorry. I-I guess that means you lost out on the reward.” Will he blame me for losing the huge bounty? If I hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, he would’ve probably caught the wanted criminal. I remember how Vlann paused over me to make sure I was all right before he chased after the scary alien and warmth unexpectedly fills me.
