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

Ch. 57

"I'm not so sure of that," Chiss interrupted as he shot the rebel.

As he turned to leave the room, a soldier held up a hand as if begging for help. "Please," the man whispered. Chiss walked over and squatted before him, weapon still drawn. "There are women here... hostages. One of them... she's carrying my child." His voice trembled with the weight of the truth, and his eyes locked with Chiss's.

In that moment, Chiss saw not just an enemy, but a man haunted by his own choices, burdened with the knowledge of innocent lives he had unknowingly endangered. The lines of right and wrong blurred, and compassion flickered within Chiss's soul.

"Tell me where they are," Chiss demanded, his voice no longer fueled by anger, but by a newfound sense of understanding and duty.

With his last breath, the rebel soldier managed a weak smile, grateful for the glimmer of hope Chiss offered. He revealed the location before asking one final request, "Please, please take care of them—my child and their mother."

Chiss nodded solemnly, standing with renewed determination as he headed to where he hoped he would find the women, as well as Macon.

As he entered the dimly lit chamber where the women were kept, he saw their fear-stricken faces, eyes wide with uncertainty and desperation.

Among them was a young woman, her hands cradling a burgeoning belly, bearing the weight of a child conceived in the darkness of war. Her eyes met Chiss's, and he saw the pain and vulnerability etched in every line of her face.

Gently, Chiss approached her, his steps filled with both caution and compassion. He lowered his weapon, letting it hang at his side, a symbol of his intent to protect rather than harm.

"You're safe now," he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. "We're here to help."

The young woman's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her trembling lips forming a hesitant smile. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of relief and vulnerability.

Chiss extended a hand, his touch light and comforting. "Come with me," he said, his voice carrying a strength born from his determination to keep his promise. "We will get you and the others out of here."

As the women began to gather their strength and courage, Chiss signaled to one of his soldiers, Darten, who had been assisting them. "Darten, guide them to the ships," he instructed. "Ensure they have everything they need and provide them with a safe passage. They won't be returning here."

Darten nodded, his gaze filled with empathy as he stepped forward to assist the women. "You're in good hands," he said with a reassuring smile, his presence exuding a sense of trust and protection.

As the women left the chamber, supported by Darten and the other soldiers, Chiss's eyes remained fixed on their retreating figures. Relief washed over him, knowing that they were finally out of harm's way. But amidst the relief, a tinge of worry gnawed at his heart.

Macon was still missing.

The pregnant woman, whose name Chiss had yet to learn, caught his attention. Her eyes held a mixture of hope and concern as she looked back at him. "My friend," she spoke, her voice quivering with urgency. "She was taken to one of the soldiers' rooms last night, but she didn't return once the fighting started."

Chiss's heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened with desperation as he tried to compose himself. He took a deep breath, steadying his racing pulse. "Do you know which room?" he asked, his voice betraying a sense of urgency.

The woman shook her head, her expression filled with regret. "I only know it was on the third level, with the high-ranking soldiers," she replied, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"Thank you," Chiss said, his voice laced with gratitude, before he practically sprinted from the room. Each step echoed with determination as he made his way to the stairwell, his mind focused solely on finding Macon.

Reaching the third level, Chiss's heart pounded in his chest. He flung open one door after another, searching frantically for any sign of her. His breaths came in rapid bursts, a mix of anticipation and anxiety filling his lungs.

And then, a strand of golden brown hair caught his eye.

He knelt down, his trembling hand lifting the smooth, silky strand. It slipped through his fingers, a bittersweet reminder of her presence. His gaze shifted, and he noticed a pair of shears lying on the bed, discarded haphazardly.

What did this mean?

Rounding the bed, Chiss's eyes fell upon a beautiful blue ensemble, strewn carelessly on the floor. His heart clenched as he recognized the scent that hung in the air—an intoxicating blend of honey and vanilla, the scent that was uniquely Macon's.

She had been here. She had been here, and hope surged within Chiss's veins. His lips curved into a determined smile, his eyes shining with a renewed sense of purpose.

Without a moment's hesitation, he rose to his feet, leaving the room behind as he continued his search. Each door he opened, each hallway he traversed, propelled him closer to her. The urgency within him fueled his determination, and nothing could stand in his way.

As he pushed forward, the chaos of the rebel base began to fade into the background. There was only one thing that mattered—finding Macon.

With every step he took, Chiss's heart whispered her name, a silent prayer in the midst of chaos. And he vowed to himself that he would not rest until he held her in his arms once more.