Stalked by the Alien Assassin (Aliens Among Us, #2)

by Tiffany Roberts

The man’s eyes widened, and he flinched. The woman beside him—who Avery assumed was his wife—wore an equally shocked expression. Looping his arm around her, the man hurried away. Interestingly enough, there were no children following them. There weren’t any children around at all.

“I can’t believe you said that!” He chuckled, his hand stroking up her back. “If we offended him, I feel bad for his female.” “Why’s that?” Hunter hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face to look at him. Avery lowered her hand, flattening it to his chest, and met his gaze. “Because he is more concerned with what is proper than showering her with unbridled affection,” he said, his voice thick and sultry.

“It would be a shame to get kicked out before we see everything.”

Come on, Avery! Speak up! Say it! Tell him you want him.

Karak’duun, he wanted her so badly. Craved her. He longed to take her in a hundred different ways, to learn all the sounds she’d make as she was overtaken by pleasure, to hear her crying out his name—his real name—in passion, in desperation.

She doesn’t know my real name.

He needed to leave. He knew she was safe now, and it wouldn’t do any good if he lingered.

“I’m going to make you mine, Avery Emma,”

He’s not asking my permission, but he doesn’t need to. I’m already his, heart and soul, and he knows it. I’ve been Hunter’s Trevor’s since the moment I saw him. Ugh! Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

Fyran grinned, and the fires roaring inside him were slightly more bearable for a short while. Knowing that he wasn’t the only one obsessed was heartening in a strange way.

Hunter’s lips are fire and ice, velvet and steel, and when he kisses me, I am undone.

He had a sneaking suspicion it was…love.

Boots are not the best footwear for sneaking around a small apartment.

It wasn’t rational, perhaps, but Fyran was far beyond caring about that.

She was beautiful, sensual, enticing, and he craved her so fucking much.

Part of him knew his hunger for her could never be sated, that he’d never be in control around her, and that…that was terrifying. No. Just…unacceptable.

Fyran Voltanix was a hunter, an assassin. He was not fit for a mate. And he…he couldn’t let himself be ensnared by anyone. Not even Avery Watson.

He’d been like a vampire summoned by her deepest, darkest fantasies, there to seduce her in the dead of night.

He can bite me anywhere he pleases.

Despite everything he’d done in his life, Fyran had never hated himself. He’d always been able to justify his actions and hold back the crushing guilt, had always been able to detach himself from the situations just enough to keep from getting swept up in emotion. But cutting off his contact with Avery Watson, seeing those texts she’d sent him for days afterward, hearing them in her voice as he read them over and over and over again… He’d never hated anyone as much as he did himself right now.

Did I say or do something wrong? His chest seized, and leaden heat sank into his belly, twisting his insides into knots. That had been her final message, three days ago. She’d wondered what she had done wrong. His resolve had very nearly crumbled after receiving that message, and it remained tenuous even now. Of all the wrongs he’d done, hurting her seemed the most heinous, the most unforgivable. It’s to keep her safe.

It was too easy to lose himself while he was with her, too easy to get swept away in his thoughts of her, in his yearning. She would understand if he explained it to her. She would understand why he needed to stay away.

So why haven’t you told her? You fucking know why you can’t tell her.

The distance he’d placed between himself and Avery…it only heightened his craving for her. He awoke each morning with Avery in his thoughts, was kept awake through the nights by his yearning, and had caught himself so many times with his phone in hand, staring at her contact information with his finger hovering over the call button. The memory of her taste, of her scent, of the feel of her arms around him and her lips against his, had haunted him. But it went well beyond his sexual hungers; he missed hearing her voice, her laugh. Missed seeing her smile. Missed her talking about her writing, or about her favorite books and games, missed those little glimpses she’d given him of her innermost feelings, her past, her family. Fyran missed having her look at him like he could be her everything. He’d not slept more than a few hours any night this week.

I don’t deserve happiness. Don’t deserve her.

I only want her.

Where are you? If you’re at home block the door and do not answer it If you’re at the diner stay there I’m coming to you Where are you Please where are you?

They’re trying to take Avery. My female. My lifemate.

Please answer. For all that is precious in the universe, vaerina, please answer.

It felt like her heart was broken.

Maybe you should. It isn’t like being a virgin is anything special. Why hold out? Get drunk, find some hot guy, get it over with, and enjoy yourself.

She wanted Hunter. No, I don’t. He ghosted me. He made me fall for him and then he stomped all over on my heart.

What if he has a reason? What if he’s calling to explain himself? What if— Damn it, Avery, don’t make excuses for him! She wanted to ignore him, to show him she could be as uncaring as he’d been with her. But she…couldn’t.

How was it possible for something to be a lie and the truth at the same time? And how could it hurt so damned much to say?

“Where are you?” Hunter demanded. “Exact location.”

I didn’t get away. I’m going to die.

Hunter. Hunter came. Hunter’s here.

This was his female, his mate, and he’d nearly lost her tonight. As if I didn’t already try to throw her away.

Get her home. Figure the rest out later.

So much for your big sale, huh, Gregor?

Patience and vigilance. Focused rage. Get her home.

But I cast a shadow over her light days ago. I killed her smile.

And hadn’t he expected that? Death was all he knew how to give.

Karak’duun, you don’t have time for this self-loathing bullshit, ...

Even if she’d been captured, I know where they would’ve taken her. I could’ve saved her. He scoffed at the thought, but the sound that came out of him was far more choked and strained than he’d intended. Avery made no sign that she’d heard him.

The truth remained—he’d almost lost her tonight. Had Fyran not intervened when he had, who knew what sort of further trauma she might’ve suffered before he could rescue her from the ilventyrs? He hadn’t realized what losing her would really feel like, couldn’t have imagined it, even after attempting to discard her as though she’d meant nothing to him. He’d learned little of loss during the last week because he hadn’t truly cast her aside. He’d still followed her, had still watched her. But tonight…tonight he’d almost learned what it would really mean to lose his female, and he knew now that he would not survive it. He’d never felt such fear.

Avery was his, and no one would take her from him. Not Gregor and his ilventyrian gang, not any of Earth’s governments or military forces, not the fucking Exthurizen.

“My vaerina,”

I will. She is mine, and I’m not going to lose her. I will bind her to me in every way possible.”

Thinking like that’s just a waste of fucking time now.