When They Come:Hot Aliens and the Girls Who Love Them- Book 1

Ch. 43

"Perhaps you would do well to find something to better occupy your time as you seem to be wasting away." The haunting echo of Chiss's voice reverberated through Macon's mind, tormenting her for the past three days. His words, spoken with excruciating precision, had driven her to the brink of madness. Lately, Chiss only acknowledged her existence in passing, adding to her sense of isolation.

Lying listlessly on the balcony, Macon's body draped across a lounger that overlooked the lush gardens, she absently stroked Nim, her loyal companion, resting on her chest. Beads of sweat formed at the nape of her neck as she absentmindedly twirled her tangled hair into a messy bun. She hadn't bothered to change out of her gown, and her days blurred together in a monotonous haze. What purpose did she serve?

She hadn't even mustered the energy to attend the gathering the previous night. The knock on her door shattered the silence, momentarily grabbing her attention. "Enter!" she called out without bothering to move from her languid position.

A young male servant cautiously entered, holding a tray of food. His cheeks flushed as he took in Macon's reclined form on the cushions. "Lady," he said, lowering his head respectfully, then hesitated, seemingly overwhelmed by her lack of engagement.

"Leave it there," Macon motioned lazily toward a nearby table, dismissing the servant's presence. The tray sat untouched, as the male silently retreated from the room.

Before he vanished from sight, Macon called out, "Any word from the rebellion?" The servant froze, caught off guard as if sinking into quicksand. His words came out haltingly, painting a dire picture. "Your lady's estate is on high alert. Rebel groups are advancing once again."

Macon sat up abruptly, a surge of urgency coursing through her. Why hadn't she been informed? She needed to speak with Chiss. With anticipation welling inside her, she rose from the lounger, gently placing Nim back in his golden habitat. Nim scurried up a small tree, grabbing a piece of fruit, his eyes closing in bliss as juice dripped down his cheeks in tiny droplets.

Macon approached the tray, sipping from her cup and grabbing a piece of crisp bread. Clutching her provisions, she made her way to her quarters and swiftly filled the bath, submerging herself in the lukewarm water to escape the stifling heat. After dressing in a tunic and leggings she had previously requested, she tugged on her boots and descended the stairs.

Without bothering to knock, Macon entered Chiss's room. A female figure sat atop his lap, causing Macon to raise an eyebrow in surprise. The woman's cheeks flushed pink against her grayish complexion as she hurriedly stood and exited the room. Chiss's face remained impassive, mirroring Macon's carefully constructed facade.

"I've heard that the rebellion is closing in on the city center," Macon stated, her voice filled with urgency. "What is your plan if they target us here?"

Chiss's response was laced with a touch of sarcasm. "No time for niceties, I see."

She narrowed her eyes, refusing to be deterred. "This concerns me greatly. This is my house, and my guests are in potential danger. Who else but you can defend them? Is there any word from Xane and his party? Will they provide assistance if we are attacked? We are practically defenseless."

Chiss's voice carried a note of assurance. "Rest assured, they will not come here."

Macon's gaze hardened. "And what if the rebels have information that the prince is within these walls?"

"Macon, I hardly think this should be your concern."

A humorless laugh escaped her lips. "I believe it is my concern, primarily. This is my house, and the safety of my guests is at stake. Moreover, who else will protect them if not you? Has there been any communication from Xane? Any indication of help if we face an attack? We are vulnerable, like sitting ducks."

Chiss's stoic expression wavered as he contemplated her words. "I assure you, nothing has changed. There is only unrest, and the staff speaks out of fear."

She scoffed, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Exactly my point. That's why I want a weapon to defend myself."

Chiss laughed dismissively. "Of course you do."

"No, I'm serious," Macon insisted. "Ever since the attack at your family estate, I have thought about how I could have protected those people if I had a weapon."

Chiss's gaze locked with hers, contemplation flickering in his eyes. "Using such a weapon requires training. It's not like the primitive weapons you were accustomed to on Earth."

Macon's laughter held a bitter edge. "Then get me a weapon and train me."

"I will do no such thing. Your bonded would disapprove," Chiss retorted.

Her eyes bore into him with unwavering determination. "I'm certain that among the long list of things my bonded would disapprove of, this is the least offensive."