Page 15 of Rescued By the Alien Hit Man

Her eyes widened at my words, a flicker of fear—or maybe understanding—passing through them. “So, any sabotage would be subtle, not detonating until you’re clear of civilians?” Mia’s voice was calm, but the tension in her body betrayed her.

“Exactly,” I said. “The Sionagog Syndicate isn’t fond of unnecessary casualties. They draw unwanted attention.” The surrounding jungle seemed to lean in, listening.

“And you work for them,” she stated with an edge that cut deeper than any blade I’d wielded.

“Worked,” I corrected sharply, feeling that familiar clench in my chest. “I was genetically engineered to be what they needed—a killer. But it’s not a leash I wear willingly anymore.” I took a step closer, the bioluminescent glow of the foliage painting us both in an ethereal light. “And I’m ready to leave that behind for you.”

Mia remained silent, hoisting her backpack with trembling hands.

“Stay close,” I said. “Do exactly as I say, without question.”

“Understood,” she said, her voice steady despite the fluster I had seen moments before.

I led the way, my senses heightened to every sound—the distant call of night predators, the rustle of leaves that may or may not have been just the wind. The moist soil beneath our feetleft traces of our passage, and my mind raced with strategies to evade those who might be tracking us.

The air was heavy with the scent of fermenting fruit and wet foliage, sounds of nocturnal creatures punctuating the silence between us. My hand brushed against hers, a current running through us that felt like a surge of electricity, grounding yet volatile. It was a distraction, one we could ill afford, but it was also a reminder—of what was at stake, and what I was fighting for.

I kept my pace measured, ensuring Mia was always within arm’s reach. There was comfort in knowing she was there, a strange warmth accompanying the concern that knotted my insides. I thought back to the cave, to the union of two unlikely souls seeking solace in each other’s arms. The memory was vivid, visceral, almost enough to make me forget the peril that hunted us.

“Can we trust anyone on Alfataken Station?” Mia’s voice, soft yet clear, pulled me from my reverie.

“Few,” I said. “But I have contacts that owe me favors. We’ll find safe passage off Dufair.”

A sudden crackle of branches underfoot froze me in place. Instinctively, I reached back, pressing a finger to my lips to signal silence. Mia’s eyes, wide with alarm, met mine as I pointed to the dense thicket behind a massive tree trunk. We slipped into the foliage, our bodies brushing against each other in the tight space, her breath shallow and quick against the side of my face.

The jungle’s chorus fell silent under the heavy tread of boots, the slavers’ voices closing in, slicing through the thick air. “She can’t be far,” one barked, his words sending a shiver down my spine—not from fear, but from the proximity of Mia. Her soft curves pressed against my hardened form. In that crampedhiding spot, every shift, every gasp, was an intimate dance of survival.

“Check over there!” another commanded. The slavers were on top of us now, their shadows flitting across the foliage like specters hunting prey. Mia’s trembling hand found the crook of my arm, her fingers gripping me tightly. The scent of her fear mingled with the primal tang of the jungle, strangely intoxicating.

Her heartbeat raced against my own, a drumbeat in sync with the danger that loomed mere breaths away. It was a perilous tango, our bodies moving together without music, only the pulse of our shared adrenaline. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against mine, and I fought the urge to pull her even closer, to shield her completely with my body.

“Nothing here,” a voice grunted, frustration evident. The footsteps receded, the tension slowly unwinding from the air like a released spring. But we remained still, statues in a garden of shadows and moonlight, waiting for the threat to vanish entirely.

As the sounds of pursuit faded, replaced once again by the nocturnal symphony of Dufair, Mia shifted beside me, her movement sending fresh waves of awareness coursing through my veins. The brush of her body was a siren call to a part of me that yearned for more than just protection, more than duty—a yearning that was both human and something else entirely.

“Are they gone?” she whispered, her voice a caress that stirred the depths of my being.

“Wait,” I said, every sense straining for signs of deception. The predator within me raged against the stillness, eager to claim what was so agonizingly close. Dispatch the slavers, thin their numbers.

But this wasn’t about the hunt or the kill. It was about her—Mia, my mission, my fated mate. For her, I would defy myvery nature; for her, I would become the protector instead of the assassin.

We waited, our breaths mingling, our futures hanging in the balance.

I grudgingly disentangled myself from the underbrush, muscles tensing with the effort to maintain distance from Mia. My body ached with a primal need, every fiber of my being protesting as I edged away from her warmth. The cool night air hit my skin, a stark contrast to the heat that had built between us.

“Stay here,” I said, my voice a low rumble that vibrated in the charged silence. I slipped out of our hiding place, moving with the silence of a specter among the towering trees and luminescent foliage. The slavers’ careless tracks marred the soft soil, leading away into the depths of the jungle. They wouldn’t double back—not this time.

Returning to Mia, I reached for her hand, guiding her out with an assurance I didn’t entirely feel. Her fingers brushed against mine, igniting something deep within me. She stumbled slightly, and instinctively, I caught her, pulling her close. Her body pressed against mine, a momentary lapse in discipline that sent a surge of longing through my veins.

“Sorry,” she said, her eyes lifting to meet mine, reflecting a myriad of unspoken thoughts.

I released her more abruptly than intended. “We go left. It’s safer.”

After over an hour of hiking, an abandoned research facility loomed ahead, a relic of ambition now surrendered to decay. Its dilapidated walls stood defiant against the encroaching wilderness, a testament to forgotten projects and forsaken dreams. Flickering lights danced like ghosts along the corroded metal structures, casting eerie shadows that seemed to move of their own volition.

“Keep close,” I said, as we approached the entrance, the scent of mold and stagnation greeting us like an unwelcome host. A creaking sign, half-illuminated, sputtered the name of the facility. Once proud, now it was nothing but a faded echo of its past glory.

We stepped inside, our footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness. The air was stale, heavy with the weight of years untouched by living breath. Distant water dripped rhythmically, the sound amplified by the silence, a reminder that even in abandonment, life persisted.

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