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

Ch. 46

Chiss
Chiss took a tentative step back from Macon, the sensation of her absence immediate and unsettling. His body ached with the longing to be near her, but he fought against the pull, aware that their training session had come to an end.

"That's enough for now," he murmured, his voice laced with a husky tone that betrayed the underlying tension between them. "We should eat." He moved toward the blanket, where a carefully prepared basket of food awaited them.

Macon sat cross-legged on the blanket, her cheeks flushed and stray hairs clinging to her face. Chiss's gaze lingered on her, captivated by her radiant beauty. She brushed the hair away with the back of her hand, her eyes meeting his briefly, before a shy smile graced her lips.

Kneeling before the basket, Chiss pulled out an array of food items and a small decanter of juice. His eyes focused on the light purple liquid, realization dawning that the fruit had come into season. A sense of anticipation swelled within him as he considered the taste.

With careful precision, he arranged the containers between them, a silent offering of sustenance and nourishment. Macon's hand reached for a gelatinous sweet, a treat he had noticed was her favorite. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she took a bite, savoring the flavor with closed eyes and a contented sigh.

As he grabbed two small cups and filled them with juice, Chiss couldn't help but take a gulp, wincing at the bitter taste. "Not quite ripe yet," he remarked, watching Macon do the same, her expression twisting in distaste.

"That," she choked, her gaze fixed on the glass, "is awful!"

Chiss offered a wry smile, realizing his miscalculation. "It seems the nifferous root juice isn't fully in season yet. When ripe, it's actually one of my favorite treats during the dry season."

Her eyes bore into him, as if searching for something beyond his words. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his curiosity piqued, playing along with her silent inquiry.

"You know," she began, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vulnerability, "you've been acting like a real ass. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was intentional."

He sucked in a breath, his lips pursed as he processed her words. "Ah, well," he retorted, wagging a finger at her playfully, "then I suppose you've uncovered my master plan. How else would you have me be?"

His brows furrowed, the sharpness of his tone tempered by a flicker of concern. He couldn't deny the hurt that flashed across her eyes, but a strange numbness settled within him, shielding his emotions.

She nodded, a weariness apparent in her gaze, and her eyes fluttered closed with effort.

Suddenly, a wave of fatigue washed over Chiss, his mind hazy and his body growing heavy. Through half-closed eyes, he observed Macon as she lowered herself onto her side, finding comfort in the softness of the blanket. A faint unease tugged at the edges of his consciousness, a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

His eyes fixed upon her, studying how peacefully she slept, a serene vision against the backdrop of their surroundings. Weariness enveloped him, dulling his senses, and a thought flickered briefly before he surrendered to the beckoning drowsiness.

"Just a moment," he whispered to himself, his eyes fluttering closed. The world around him faded away as sleep claimed him, casting them both into a realm of dreams and uncertainty.

As Chiss slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, a heavy haze clung to his senses, shrouding his thoughts in a foggy disorientation. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing a dimly lit, unfamiliar setting. Panic flickered within him as he attempted to grasp his surroundings, but the grogginess held him firmly in its grip.

Blinking against the darkness, Chiss's senses came alive, and a terrible taste lingered in his mouth, like a bitter residue from a concoction he couldn't quite recall. It was then that he realized he was alone. Macon was nowhere to be seen, and a wave of confusion washed over him.

Struggling to sit up, Chiss's movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. His head throbbed with a dull ache, intensifying the disorientation that clouded his thoughts. The realization that Macon had left him in this state stirred a mix of emotions within him—bewilderment, hurt, and a nagging worry for her safety.

With great effort, Chiss managed to regain his footing, swaying unsteadily as he attempted to maneuver back to the estate. Each step felt laborious, his body weighed down by the remnants of the drug's effects. The darkness of the night seemed to mirror the heaviness in his heart, a sense of abandonment gnawing at him.

As he stumbled closer to the estate, a familiar figure materialized in the shadows. It was his brother, Anders, who watched him with a mixture of concern and suspicion.

"Anders," Chiss greeted, his voice strained as he tried to steady himself.

Anders's brows furrowed, his gaze assessing Chiss's disheveled appearance. "Chiss, have you been drinking? What's happened to you? Where is Macon?"

Chiss shook his head, a surge of frustration welling within him. "No, I haven't been drinking. Something... I'm not sure what happened."

Recognition dawned in Anders's eyes, his features contorting with a mix of worry and anger."It seems you may have been drugged— was Macon with you?"

Chiss's voice trembled with a hint of desperation. "She had been— when I woke up she was gone. I'd assumed she'd made it back."

Anders's concern deepened, his protective instincts kicking in. "She isn't here.  I was coming to look for the two of you when neither of you showed up to dinner. We need to find her."

Leaning on Anders for support, Chiss allowed himself to be guided back to the estate, his mind racing with questions and a growing unease as he tried to shake off the haze.