Mended and Marked

Chapter Three - Duri

Smoke fills my nostrils as the shield opens. I lift my heavy eyelids and push away the white covered hands reaching for me, disoriented and confused. Flames lick along my vision while crumpled metal and white beasts fill the rest.

Nothing makes sense. Everything hurts. Something in my abdomen shifts and flutters against my other organs.

Snapping into reality, I stop fighting the hands trying to free me from the seat and join in their efforts. My fingers fumble in a mad scramble, desperate to get out of the restraints, so when fat digits gather my wrists and pull them aside, I don't struggle despite the painful grip.

The harness finally releases, but the hand doesn't let go of my arms. I look up into my savior's face mask and see nothing but my own frantic and frazzled eyes reflected back at me.

Unease crawls up my sore spine.

The form seems to be human, but he must be alpha—an alpha much bulkier than the males on my home planet—and his strength proves more than anyone I've ever encountered before. He yanks me onto my feet with ease and stoops down as though to throw me over his shoulder.

Instinct kicks in. My knee jerks upward, but I lose my balance since my head swims and my natural clumsiness amplifies my instability.

"No! I'm pregnant!"

The white-clad form pauses before reaching into his pocket and slapping a thin band around my wrists. I cough from the mixture of smoke and surprise and struggle in earnest when he lifts me off my feet and plasters me to his chest. With his hold trapping my hands between us and his nearness preventing me from kneeing him, my struggles prove useless as he stomps through the wreckage.

The smoke proves to be too much. I sag in his arms, taking comfort in knowing he's getting me out of immediate danger, and cough until fresh air surrounds us. I suck it down but cough harder, my throat raw and gritty while my lungs feel scorched.

A group of survivors huddle together a few feet away from the flames, but I can't see much beyond the bulky arms encasing me. It isn't until my rescuer stalks past them that I realize a vehicle trains its headlights on them, pinning them in place.

He ignores their cries for help and continues into the darkness. A tan, wheeled vehicle flashes across my narrowed vision as he carries me past it, not stopping until we reach the back.

I struggle to find my balance when he sets me down, but two cruel hands grab my biceps from behind and hold me still, their grip so tight my fingers tingle from restricted blood flow.

"Tag and process. She's a prime candidate for study 229C."

The male's strange accent makes my senses reel until I register his words. He nods at the person holding me before turning and striding back into the flames, his footfalls echoing in my head as though he stomps on my skull.

Another large male in a white suit steps around me and reaches for my neck. I flinch but can't move away. My bones may bruise from the terrible grip on my arms. Cold, rough leather wraps around my throat before the alpha in front of me snaps the collar closed and drops into a squat. Two seconds later, similar bands squeeze my upper thighs, my stomach heaving at having a stranger so close to my intimates. His glove caresses my knee as he releases the hem of my skirt, letting it fall back to my ankles.

"Stop! Please!"

Too little too late, I find my voice. It hurts to speak, and I sound hoarse, but I struggle without effect.

A needle sinks into my flesh above the brutal grip on my right bicep.

No medicine rushes into my system.