Mated and Alone (True Match)

Chapter 1

Misty

“This is horseshit!”

Rage, white hot and choking, rushed through Misty’s body, making her shake, causing the cuffs linking her to the metal table to rattle. Their obnoxious jingling echoed in the tiny room, striking against her ears like rusty nails clicking on a chalkboard.

Across from her, smirking smugly, Officer Prickhead didn’t even pretend he wasn’t looking at her boobs as he reclined back in his chair. At his leisure. Completely convinced of not only his superiority but his righteousness in this moment.

Bastard.

“Stealing is a very serious crime, Misty,” he said, stroking his pen in a manner that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but suggestive. Up and down, rubbing his thumb over the tip. Even the way he held it made sure there was no mistake about what was going through his mind – right over the spot where his groin would be under the table.

It was disgusting. He was disgusting. This entire damn day was just one long clusterfuck of absolutely disgusting people.

“I didn’t steal a damn thing!” Misty pounded her fists on the table. Frustration and betrayal twisting up inside her, coiling like barbed wire, shredding her apart with the unfairness of everything.

“That’s not what Ms. Junie was saying,” Prickett clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying himself. “And you know, she is a very respected member of the community. Compared to a little woman like yourself with your… background… I mean, can you blame us for believing her over you? We all know the things you get up to, Misty.”

“This is a literal fucking witch hunt!” Misty argued. “She doesn’t like me because her holier than thou self can’t stand the fact that I dress like this!”

She gestured to herself – at least, as much as she could with her hands chained to the table. The fact that she wasn’t even allowed that much freedom, like she was some kind of dangerous criminal, was acid eating at her belly.

Misty had always dressed different compared to everyone else in this small town, but she had really started to embrace her sense of style in recent years. The most normal thing about her outfit were her black leggings – and even that was too much for their old-fashioned sensibilities because it hugged all of her generous curves in a way that Misty enjoyed and flaunted. She loved the slopes and rounded lines of her body, always had. The way her generous chest tightened into a cute waist before flaring out into a pair of chunky hips and thighs was beautiful. She was gorgeous and luscious, her body jiggling just right when she walked, and she loved showing it off.

At least, until Officer Prickhead made it clear that he was enjoying it as well.

Her chunky, black boots went up her calves, big buckles crossing up the whole way. Her shirt was an old band T that she had cut up, widening the neck and turning it into a crop top, but it had always been a few sizes too big, so now it hung off one shoulder. Since the good law enforcement officers had come charging into her house – while she was sleeping – her shoes were the only thing she was able to grab. Which meant she didn’t even have a bra on. Something her big tits definitely needed in order to be out in public. But no, she wasn’t even afforded that dignity. Misty couldn’t adjust her shirt to try to cover her boobs better because of the way she was chained to the table either. It would require leaning forward and offering Prickett the Prickhead an even better look at her goods, and she would honestly rather rip all her piercings out with pliers than give him even an inch more of skin to slobber over like the fucking pig he was.

And she had a lot of piercings. Multiple in both ears, the one in her nose, through her eyebrow, her tongue, her belly button – and of course the ones through her nipples that she would drop dead before letting Prickett know existed.

Misty had always dressed alternative, a little goth. This little town had never appreciated that, but she wasn’t one to care. However, as she’d embraced that side of herself more, especially as she got the piercings and tattoos once she hit adulthood, it just became too much for them. Ms. Junie, an old white woman with too much time on her hands, had begun saying how Misty was being influenced by the devil, but that changed recently to Misty influencing people for the devil. As though dressing in black and being unashamed about her style and body were so evil.

She liked goth shit and shiny things! That wasn’t a crime!

Although, apparently, in this little town, it actually was.

Just not one they could get her for. But when Saintly Ms. Junie suddenly lost a precious family heirloom ring, all eyes immediately turned to her. Because she was black and goth in a small town world and that was just unforgivable.

But even that wouldn’t have been enough to actually land her in cuffs.

If it wasn’t for Lacie.

Lacie had been Misty’s friend for years. Misty had been there for her through thick and thin. When Lacie got drunk the first time, it was Misty that dragged her home so the older boys at the house party, who had been eying her up, couldn’t do anything to her while she was helpless.

When Lacie got pregnant, it was Misty that drove her across state lines while she was bawling, swearing to never be so careless again, to get it terminated. Honestly, that was the best outcome for her and the baby. Because not long after that, Lacie got into meth, and when she did, it was Misty that picked her up from the traphouse.

And when Lacie stole Ms. Junie’s ring to pay for her habit, it was Misty’s house that she hid it in so she wouldn’t be caught with it – without telling Misty. And when Lacie was confronted, it was Misty she accused of the theft just to get herself out of trouble. And wouldn’t you know it? Ms. Junie – sainted, sweet, and lovely Ms. Junie – could just swear she saw someone suspicious and dark walking around her house just the other day.

And it wasn’t at all a surprise that Misty, that godless harlot from across the tracks, would be the one to steal it. After all, Misty was always seen around that notorious drug den and everyone knew that Lacie took Misty across state lines to get an abortion, because, of course, one of her kind couldn’t keep her legs closed.

The not-at-all subtle racism was bad enough, but Lacie’s betrayal hurt worse. At least the casual racism was something Misty was used to in these parts. Small town folks had small town minds. People always said they were nicer, but in Misty’s experience, there was a difference between being nice and being kind. These people might be nice, but there wasn’t a shred of kindness in their bodies. Someone always had something to say about Misty and any other person of a different race or religion or origin. It usually wasn’t overt. Most times, it was just a subtle, casual, almost imperceptible thing.

Until now. Misty had cuffs on her wrists now, which meant that she must be guilty of something, so all that subtle racism could become overt, since clearly she deserved it.

And you know what, Misty didn’t care about that. Their stupid, backwards beliefs were never going to change, and she was already planning on leaving this place anyway. They could think whatever they wanted about her.

But Lacie had been her friend. Misty would have done anything for Lacie. Misty had done practically everything for Lacie. They’d been through tons of stuff together, and just as much good as bad. They’d promised to be each other’s maid of honor. To be each other’s children’s godmothers. To always be together. To always help each other.

And Lacie was pinning her theft to feed her meth habit all on Misty.

Which worked out just fine for Ms. Junie and Officer Prickhead, because that fit perfectly into their mental narrative of the evil witch girl from the wrong side of the tracks.

It was disgusting and infuriating and just nauseating . Misty had never felt more alone than she did in this moment. Locked in a tiny room, cuffed to a table, not a single person in this world who even cared to hear what she had to say, much less was willing to believe it.

Lacie had two distinct advantages over Misty. First: she was a cute little white girl that looked completely innocent. The meth addiction had made her lose enough weight that she was now skinny and pretty but wasn’t yet so bad that she was skeletal and toothless. She fit more into their idea of what a nice, small-town girl should be.

And second, Lacie was the niece of the local mayor. Her uncle definitely knew about her habit, but he helped her cover it up. He did whatever it took to save face, without actually addressing or fixing the rot in his family tree. Connections alone meant that Lacie was automatically innocent until proven guilty.

Meanwhile, the goth black girl was guilty of something , no matter what. Even if they were capable proving her innocence, why bother? She was definitely not worth saving.

Misty had been sleeping at home, enjoying her morning off from the hair salon she worked at – the only one that serviced her hair type in the entire area – when the cops, led by Officer Prickhead, came rushing in. They’d locked her up, accused her of thievery, and dragged her back here all without so much as a ‘hey, can we talk to you’.

Misty had finally pieced together what was happening through conversations she heard while she was being booked, and the snide remarks people made as they brought and left her here. No one was telling her about anything directly. She wasn’t important enough to deserve that. And it was basically a given that she did it, so why treat her with basic decency? If she wanted to be treated like a person, she shouldn’t be a criminal.

Misty had been sitting here for six hours now. She had to pee, she hadn’t eaten since last night, and she couldn’t even fully process the betrayal or the sheer injustice going on or even the weight of knowing she was totally alone in this world without a single friend, because her most immediate problem was the undisguised lust in Officer Prickhead’s gaze as he stared at her, quite obviously adjusting himself as he did so. Still working the pen that probably was the same size as his pathetic little dick.

She might be the black girl with a witchy vibe and that was absolutely unforgivable in a small town. But she still had a pussy, a big pair of tits, and a living body – and a man didn’t need anything more than that.

“Now, Misty,” he started, taking a moment to admire her boobs as they rested, heavy, on the table. She couldn’t even pull back far enough to keep it from happening. She could only glare, hating him for getting an eyeful of what wasn’t his, hoping against reality that he couldn’t see her piercings. “You’ve always been a such good little girl.”

“I swear to god, Prickett-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he cut her off with a chuckle. “Careful what you say. I am an officer of the law. You wouldn’t want to add more charges, would you?”

“You and I both know that this dinky ass little station doesn’t have functioning cameras.”

“Exactly.” He laughed, holding out his hands. “That means it’s the word of a respected, beloved police officer against the goth whore everyone suspects of witchcraft who stole from a darling pillar of the community. Who do you think a jury of our peers is going to side with?”

“You fucking-…” Helpless rage stole the rest of her sentence as Misty glared, hating that she knew he was right. Not about her stealing, but about what everyone would think.

“But you know, I’m not a cruel man,” he continued, leaning in over the table, a flash of excitement flaring in his eyes. “As you said, those cameras don’t work. We don’t have the budget for that. Which means, you have a very special opportunity here to… convince me of your innocence.”

Misty glared at him, clenching her teeth so hard she was afraid they might break. He didn’t need her permission to continue.

“You know, you’ve grown into a lovely young woman,” he said, eyes roaming down her body. “You’ve been sexy since those tits of yours came in. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to test them out for myself.”

She sneered. “Which is interesting, because I got my tits in middle school, officer . And you’re, what? Ten years older than me? Fifteen?”

He shrugged, standing, coming around the table to stand beside her chair. Pinning her in. Misty couldn’t stop herself from pulling back, but she also couldn’t go anywhere. Not locked to the table as she was.

“I hear whores get their bodies sooner,” he chuckled. “Can’t blame a man for appreciating it. And you’re certainly not underage now. No, not at all. You’re all woman now.”

She snarled, wondering if she should just bite him. She’d definitely get an assaulting a police officer charge for that, regardless of what she claimed against him. But she’d rather go to prison for some shit she did do than let his disgusting cock anywhere near her.

“I think we can come to an agreement here,” he said, putting a hand on the wall, leaning over her. The bulge in his pants right in her face. “What do you say, Misty? You let me play with that sexy little body of yours, and in return, I tell Ms. Junie that she got the wrong girl.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sure there’s someone you don’t like in that neighborhood of yours,” he continued, reaching for her, laughing when she jerked back so hard she hit the wall, the cuffs pulling painfully against her wrists. “What do you say? You let me fuck you, and I make this all go away. That’s a fair agreement, wouldn’t you say?”

“Die, pig,” she spat through her teeth. “You touch me, and I’ll break your hands.”

He laughed, breathing fast as he stared at her body. “Now, now, Misty. Let me re-phrase myself. This is going to happen. You might as well get something out of it, right?”

“I’ll scream.”

“And no one will come,” he laughed, grabbing her hair in his fist, making her cry out in pain as he pulled up. “Because you’re nothing here, Misty. No one will believe you over me. And if you make a fuss, I’m just going to let the others have a turn. I’m not the only one who wondered what that fat ass would feel like against their dick. So, you might as well make it good for me alone, or I’ll open the door and call the boys in here. After I take my turn, of course.”

“Fuck off!” She hissed, pulling back against him, her scalp burning with agony. Hot tears of anger, fear, helplessness burned in her eyes as she glared at him.

But he only laughed, reaching for his belt.

Knock, knock, knock .

He paused, glaring at the door. “I’m busy. Come back later.”

He looked back at her.

Knock, knock, knock .

Growling, he dropped Misty into her chair. She pushed herself tighter into the corner, dragging the table with her, as he walked towards the door. He cracked it with a glare.

“What? I said, I was-”

Misty didn’t hear what the other officer said. His soft, whispered voice was too quiet for her to make out the words. Whatever it was, however, made Prickhead pause before stepping out, hastily shutting the door behind him without even looking back.

She caught her breath, thankful for the momentary reprieve. But her mind was racing. Trying to figure out what she was going to do when he came back. Because even if that was Lacie out there, somehow driven by whatever scraps of conscience she had left, come to confess the truth, she didn’t think Prickett would let her go that easily.

More time passed. Misty couldn’t hear what was going on outside. This place might not have cameras, but the walls and door were old and thick. Sturdy. Offering great sound proofing. She could only count the seconds as she waited for his return, desperately casting her mind around for some kind of plan. Anything to keep his hands off her.

Knock, knock, knock .

She froze, glaring at the door. Though she didn’t answer, it still opened.

And a monster walked in.

Misty’s jaw dropped as shock made her reel back, the cuffs cutting into her wrists. There was a lizard man wearing a steel gray suit stepping into her room. And that was absolutely insane.

He offered her a smile, all of the sharp, alligator teeth in his muzzle shining in the yellow light of the old bulb that buzzed overhead. It took her stunned brain a couple seconds to recognize that this wasn’t a monster – it was an alien. Those lizard men aliens that worked with the color changing aliens that were constantly surrounding Earth. Protecting them, they said. From what, Misty didn’t know. And nor did she care right now, because there was no reason for any alien to come all the way out here to the back ass end of nowhere.

Except this one was turning the plastic chair that Officer Prickett had just vacated and sitting in it sideways. It wasn’t the most comfortable perch, especially for a dude as big as him, but he had to for the sake of the thick, muscular tail trailing behind him. Bright white quills shined on his head, smoothly laid back, as he smiled at her through purple eyes.

“Good evening, Ms. Miles,” he greeted with a pleasant rumble.

“What the fuck…” she mumbled, not entirely sure when exactly she lost her mind, but it had to have happened at some point in the last six hours because this wasn’t real.

Still better than being touched by Officer Prickhead, but definitely not real.

“My name is Tzomei,” he continued like she hadn’t spoken. “I’m the ratchi ambassador to Earth. I wish we could have met under better circumstances, but it is still nice to meet you nonetheless.”

“What the…” She couldn’t even finish the dumb exclamation this time.

He just smiled at her, his three fingered hands folding together neatly on the table. “I understand this is a bit of a shock. Take your time.”

Misty shook her head quickly. “This isn’t happening.”

“I assure you, it is.”

“Why is this happening?”

“I’m glad you asked.” He smiled again. “Do you remember getting your scan done at True Match a few years ago. Four and a half, I believe it was.”

“Er, vaguely?” Misty made a face. She knew it had happened because she found an email about it afterwards, but the event itself was a blur.

One of her old friends had an out-of-town birthday party for her twenty-first. And she told Misty that she’d booked scans at True Match – the matchmaking thing – for all of them. They weren’t all single, but True Match promised to find your soulmate for you, so it was considered romantic by most to do it – those that didn’t suspect it of being a human trafficking front put on by aliens.

Misty wasn’t friends with them anymore. Most of them left town and didn’t look back, and the others had fallen out of touch with her as Misty embraced her gothic side. They were friendships that turned out to be casual things, easily abandoned.

The scans had been a surprise for the party, and Misty had been blackout drunk by that point. She didn’t remember the building, the scan, or most of that day and night. Getting the confirmation email was the only reason she even asked her friend about it later. She’d never heard from the company again, so she’d practically forgotten about it.

But if there was an alien here in front of her, then…

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, reality finally catching up to her. “You don’t mean…”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tzomei nodded once. And though his face and features were completely reptilian, he somehow managed to look kind. “You’ve been matched. More specifically, you’ve been matched to an alien. A kreecharma male, in fact.”

“No way…” She shook her head quickly. “You’re joking. You… You’re serious?”

“Very,” he nodded again. “And normally, True Match would be contacting you directly. They would inform you of the match and pass along contact details, give you the space you need to come to terms and get in contact, that whole thing. However, your case is a bit special. Your mate is a male of quite some importance. It was therefore determined that I should be the one to speak to you. And just in time, it would appear.”

His expression didn’t change, but his long tail did hiss as it slid across the ground, hitting the door and wall with a solid thud that made her jump.

“Er…” She hesitated, unsure what to say.

“I was luckily already on my way here when I was informed of your arrest,” he continued. And she couldn’t say exactly why, but she got the impression he was angry. At her? “I spoke to the chief of police here, as well as the county’s district attorney. I had to exert a little pressure, but they’ve agreed to drop your charges if you are turned over to me so that I can have you sent to your mate.”

“Huh…” She blinked, dumbstruck.

“Just as I said. They will drop all charges if I take you away. I’ve already spoken with your mate, and he is most eager to have you brought to him. He’s paying for everything himself. He’ll already be preparing for your arrival. We only need your agreement.”

Misty’s mind was spinning. Too much, too fast, was coming at her, far too quickly for her to follow. But she heard the last thing loud and clear.

A way out that didn’t involve Prickhead’s dick or unjust jail time.

But the cost…

“You mean, I have to leave Earth,” she said, just making sure she was getting this right. “Like, permanently.”

“Yes, that is the gist,” he inclined his head in agreement. “I understand this is sudden, and it’s a big decision, so if you need-”

“Deal.”

“Pardon?” He blinked, clearly surprised to hear her easy agreement.

“Deal,” she repeated more firmly, lifting her arms as far as she could, the cuffs clinking together. “Can you take these off now? I have to pee.”

“Er, sure.” He shook his head, clearing his surprise. “I must admit, I was expecting you to need some time. I thought you’d want to think it over.”

“No way. I want out of this place,” she growled, teeth clenching again. “I never want to see another one of these bastards again. I was already planning on moving to a new town anyway. Besides, I don’t have anything left here. Not anymore. I am alone, unattached, and ready. Take me out of here. I’m ready to go right the fuck now. He’s my soulmate right? Sign me up. Do I get to pack a bag first? It’s cool if I don’t, I just want to know if it’s an option.”

Misty was done. With these people. With this town. With everything. Especially with Officer Prickhead and Sainted Ms. Junie and every single person of importance who pretended their shit didn’t stink all the while hiding whatever their friends or family did to foul up this town in the first place.

She wanted to pack up some things if she had a chance, but honestly, if she had to start over with nothing more than the clothes on her back, then that was fine too. She was ready to be done and out of here already.

And maybe that was an emotionally driven choice, but fuck this, fuck them, fuck everything . She hoped their stuck up noses all got sinus infections that got so bad it ate their faces. And Lacie? She could keep her meth habit and all the dicks she had to suck to feed it.

If that meant Misty was throwing herself at the mercy of some unknown dude in a far-off galaxy somewhere, then so be it. Soulmate or best friend or whatever that looked like. She could cross that bridge when she got there. But first, she had to get out of this situation, and she wasn’t missing her chance.

“Very well,” Tzomei nodded. “You can pack whatever you like as soon as we leave. Here, let me get these for you.”

Misty expected him to reach for a key, but he didn’t. Instead, he used his thick, black claws to break the hinge of the cuffs, snapping them off her.

Misty rubbed her sore wrists, sitting back in her chair. Looking at this guy and the new path her life was suddenly taking. He was staring at the irritated skin, an unreadable look in his eyes. But before she could ask, he quickly fixed a smile back across his muzzle as he stood.

“Shall we?” He asked, offering her his arm. Like a damn gentleman.

And you know what, Misty was petty enough that she enjoyed the slackjawed look of horror on every face in the station as her witchy, goth butt walked out, scott free, on the arm of a monster.

Weirdly, she didn’t see Officer Prickett, but she did notice, when Tzomei opened the door to his car for her, that he had a drop of blood on his cuff.

She looked from the drop up to his face.

He smiled, without a trace of shame or guilt “Poor man. Tripped over my tail as he was walking. Happened to land right on my fist as I was trying to catch him. I do hope they can repair his teeth. And put the other ones back in.”

“Tragic,” she intoned, fighting the urge to smile.

“Indeed. I feel so bad about it. But I’m sure the human doctors will be able to fix him right up. Shall we go, miss?”

She smiled when he politely shut her in before walking around to the other side. He was being driven around because he was a big wig like that. And she felt the power of his importance as he made himself comfortable in the extended backseat – clearly given to him for the sake of that long tail.

She doubted Prickhead would learn a lesson from this, but she didn’t think he was feeling too good wherever he was right now, and that was enough for her. And maybe he would think twice next time.

Who knew? Who cared? He wasn’t her problem anymore.

“Hey, so, quick question,” she looked at the reptilian male lounging beside her. “Any chance I can bring my cat with me?”