Page 49 of Matched to the Alien King
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Memory 03296 Code: 010507 \ * * * * * * * * System flux: 8 sksk sldk.
Memory terminated. ***
Chapter eighteen
Maxx
Iawokewithastart. A club tipped with thorns beat against the inside of my skull, and I groaned my displeasure.
“Nera.” Her name scraped from my lips, my voice as dry and parched as they were.
I licked them, the scales on my tongue snagging slightly on something covering my face. Fabric, I realized. A bag over my whole head.
My memory was fuzzy, but I remembered sticky flowers falling from the sky. And someone sneaking up behind me…
What the fuxx was going on here?
A growl rumbling low in my chest, I tore the bag from my head, flung it to the ground, and readied myself for an attack or an escape. Whichever came first.
Only I might as well have kept the bag on my head. The room—or wherever I was—was pitch-black. Xenoxx had excellent eyesight, but no matter how many times I blinked, there was still nothing at all to see.
The softest of exhales came from next to me, and from that sound alone, I knew it was Nera.
I leaped out of my chair and dropped to my knees in front of her, already pulling off the bag over her head. “Nera? Are you all right?”
“Maxx?”
“Yes, it’s me.” Then I realized that without seeing my lips move, she might not hear me.
In darkness this complete, she was both deafandblind.
Blind myself, I reached out toward her face. Once I made contact with what felt like her ear, she grasped my hand with both of hers, running her fingers all over my scales just to be sure it was really me.
“Oh, thank god. The flowers in the jungle got us, Maxx. This is why we can’t have nice things.”
I huffed out a laugh, wanting to reassure her somehow in the dark, so I moved her hand to my smile.
She sighed her relief, and I kissed the tips of her fingers before reluctantly pulling away. I needed to figure out where we were, how to get out, and most importantly who was about to die a violent death for bringing us here.
Something else shifted farther away, like the rustle of fabric. Then a breathy exhale came from somewhere else.
We were definitely not alone here.
I swiped my hand toward my makeshift scabbard and machete. Gone. I would bet Nera’s weapons were gone too.
“Who’s here?” I demanded, eliciting a whimper from nearby.
Someone else cleared their throat. “Maxx. It’s Miekil. Follow the sound of my voice.”
The Killian? Why the fuxx was he here? Unless… Was this all part of the show? Pete following Nera’s advice to makeAlien Love Islandmore interesting?
I’d gut the fool from fun-sized dick to sternum and toss his carcass into the sea for fish food.
“I can hear you hesitating all the way over here,” the Killian said. “If I wanted you dead, you would be. Believe me.”
I flexed my hands and glared into the darkness. “Put your pox-covered fist in that hole you call a mouth, Killian.”
