Page 30 of I Punched an Alien and Now We’re in Couples Therapy

“Don’t try to soothe me with your LIES! How long has this been going on? Are there others? By the Allmother’s tail feathers, tell me you used protection!”

She shot me a scathing look.

I shook my head at her. “How could you, Gendula?”

Screeching, Din tugged at the feathers on his cheeks until I thought he’d pluck them off. “You see?! Even the human doesn’t believe you.”

“That’s right, Din,” I said. “Don’t let her turn you around. You deserve better than this.”

“No, he doesn’t,” the doctor snapped. Then her eyes went wide at her words. “I mean…” she trailed off, before her crest feathers flattened against her skull. She turned back to Din and shouted, “You are interrupting releasement procedures. Return to your department, and we can discuss this private matter later.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, missy. You got me poked and prodded like a fifth-grade science project. I deserve a little give-and-take. And Din here,” I said, flicking a finger toward the enraged man in the doorway, “deserves some answers. Din, be a doll and fly over here and release the cuffs. I’ll hold her down while you put the memory converter on her until we get some answers.”

Din clenched his fists and looked between us as if considering my plan. Before he could come to a conclusion, the good doctor had had enough since to slam a fist down on a button at the top part of my chair. More restraints shot out to wrap around my middle before the chair lifted from the ground and spun me toward the back door. “Hey!” I called out.

“That’s enough for you,” the doctor snapped. “We’ll set to work on establishing a plan to reintegrate you with the rest of the humans. In the meantime, you’ll be released into a soft enclosure with your mate. For your sake, try to get along.”

Chapter 16

Blair

Automatic doors slipped open before the bindings of the chair released all at once, and I was unceremoniously dumped on the floor of an office room. I fell to my hands and knees on the beige carpet. Righting myself, I looked up to find the last man I wanted to see was bound and gagged on a suede couch in the center of the room.

The Dulba king with his broad shoulders and jet-black hair was completely immobilized, yet still managed to look absolutely murderous. Metal shackles were clamped firmly around his wrists and ankles, while his hands were bound even further with the glowing silver wire. My gaze traveled from his ankles to his waist where a black strap bound his lap to the couch. His mouth was covered with another strap, but it didn’t stop his fierce eyes from promising painful retribution to the mirror that took up most of the wall.

If I had to guess, it was probably a two-way mirror. Those freakish birds spent so much time yapping about how much they needed this guy and me to mate that we were probably under constant surveillance.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why the mighty king was bound and gagged to the furniture. Scorch marks littered the desk in front of him. Knickknacks were scattered to the floor next to an obliterated shelf. His hateful gaze turned to me for a split second. He jerked on his restraints and nodded to them pointedly.

A smirk flitted across my face. “Oh my, how the tables have turned.” I sauntered up to him and placed my hands on my hips. Tilting my head, I asked, “What was that, darling? It couldn’t quite make it out.”

Rage, white and hot, rolled off the large man in waves, but a lot of good it did him in that position. Feeling mischievous, I plucked the bindings on his hands, considering my options. A wiser, more rational woman might just forgive and forget. He may be a complete asshole, but so were the Biwban that had us both captured. If I freed him now, he might just be able to blast our way out of here. Seeing how tightly the muscles were bound in his neck, I imagine he was jumping at the chance to finish what he started before they had captured and bound him to the couch.

But what the fuck was the point of being rational when you were trapped on an alien planet? A better time to be a bitch might never exist.

“I suppose I could try to untie you,” I said, tracing my finger over his knuckles, before pulling slightly at the bindings wrapped around his fingers. His skin was hot, and I knew that the silver wrapped tightly around his hands was the only reason sparks weren’t flying. Bindings dug into his swollen muscles, and the sight of it sent a delicious flutter to my lower belly. Never considered myself a BDSM girly, but something about your enemy bound and gagged did something for me in a way I did not expect.

The king stilled, eyes fixed on where my fingers met his. A muscle jumped in his jaw, and I got the naughtiest urge to lean down and lick it. Judging by the bulge in his pants, the king would let me. Instead, I pulled away and inspected my nails.

“But I just had my nails done right before I was abducted. I’ve already lost two, mind you,” I said, inspecting the broken off nail on my middle finger. “You know, if I remember correctly, I think I actually lost this one when you threw me in that fucking cage.”

The king reached up to grab me, but I only had to tilt away slightly before his bindings put me out of his reach. “This is a good look on you,” I said. Putting my hands on both sides of his head, I leaned down until my lips teased the shell of his ear, relishing the way his breath stuttered. “Pathetic.”

“Ah, Subject 12, I see you’ve arrived a little earlier than I’d anticipated.” The door opened, and another sparrow-colored Biwban flew in. She sat herself behind the desk and shuffled the stack of papers on them, paying no mind to the fact that half of those pages were singed. Flicks of ash littered the desk with each movement. “Please take a seat, we have much to discuss.”

I did as instructed, laying my legs over Osid’s lap as I made myself comfortable. He shot me a scathing look. I winked back at him.

The Biwban cleared her throat and introduced herself as Dr. Hilt and informed us that she was here to help ease the transition into our new bond. “Subject 12, seeing as your species is new to mate bonds, I’m sure you’ll have several questions for me. Do you have any you’d like to ask before we get started with the evaluation?”

“I’m so glad you asked,” I chirped in my best customer service voice. “There is one question in particular I’ve been dying to ask since you flew in here.”

Dr. Hilt sat up straighter in her seat, bright-yellow eyes gleaming with interest. “What might that be?”

“Why are you using paper when you’ve got holographic computers plugged into your wings?” Every time I saw the intern write something down, it was always in the little computer he kept in his wing. Even when I was rushed through the halls of the research center, every last little alien was glued to their screens worse than teenage girls.

Her feathers fell flat. After a moment, she cleared her throat and shuffled the papers again. “Perhaps I should have been more clear, do you have any questions about the X serum or—”

I cocked my head and asked, “Are you shuffling those papers around because you think it makes you like a human therapist?” When I stopped to really pay attention to the room, with its beige walls and almost uncomfortably open seating plan, the whole thing looked like it was decorated with the first Google results of “therapist’s office.” On closer inspection, the picture of the smiling family hanging on the wall had a little too many teeth. The little girl was fist pumping for some reason, but her fist was misshapen, and I didn’t know what was going on with her neck, but it couldn’t have been anything legal or good.