He could help restore what had been ripped away from them.
Hope.
But this female, this rixella, threatened everything. Already, his trust with Tavar was fractured. He hadn’t met with him that night in the forest. Jaxor could only imagine what the leader was thinking.
Vrax, he cursed silently.
Jaxor knew what had to be done, but he didn’t know if he had the will or the strength to do it. Even scenting her blood, even thinking she was injured, sent him into a frightened panic.
He eyed the door lying halfway inside the cave. He needed to repair the hinges before nightfall, which wasn’t that far away.
“Is there somewhere I can bathe?” came her voice. His abdomen tightened.
“There are no hot springs here,” he returned, his voice still foreign to him. “Only the falls.”
Then he left, stalking out to where he worked metal, plucking the bent hinges off the ground on his way. As he stoked up a fire in his makeshift furnace, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the female slink from the cave, limping. She walked on her toes to keep from putting pressure on her wound.
Jaxor tried to ignore her, as best as he could, but every few seconds, he found his gaze drawn helplessly back to her. In another moment, she reached the falls. The water flowed down from the facev directly above the crater, misting her dark hair as it landed in the pool beneath.
Early on, he’d dug out some of the facev floor to deepen and widen the pool, and chiseled a larger drainage line through the crater so it wouldn’t flood his base. During the hotter lunar cycles, he would swim there, cooling off. For a brief moment, he imagined Erin doing the same. He imagined swimming with her, touching her, seeing her smile. He imagined that his touch wouldn’t make her stiffen and pull away, but that it would please her, that she would want it. That she would want him.
In another life, perhaps, he reminded himself, regret mingling with loss. Not in this one.
Erin turned her back to Jaxor and knelt near the edge of the pool, though she was mindful not to get her bandaged wound wet. He watched, strangely fascinated, as she cupped water in her palms, leaning over the side. Even from a distance, he watched her shiver as she splashed it against her skin, starting with her face, her hair falling forward, getting in her way.
Next, she splashed her arms, soaking her tunic. Despite himself, Jaxor remembered the moment he’d first seen her. It had been after he’d broken into the Golden City, accessing a forgotten and unused escape route leading to the Ambassadors’ and Prime Leader’s terraces. After he’d dispatched the two warrior guards at the domed house, he’d snuck inside, following a strange, tantalizing scent he now knew was hers. He’d located the two females in the bathing quarters, Erin and her friend, Crystal, Cruxan’s new mate.
They’d both been nude, in the process of washing. When he’d first appeared at the threshold of the room, Crystal had balked, immediately ducking into the water in fright.
But Erin…
Even as Jaxor’s Instinct had roared to life at the sight of her, pulsing hot in his blood, as disbelief and anger and desire and need mingled in his mind and body, as foreign sensations and wants assaulted him, almost bringing him to his knees…his fated mate had simply looked at him. Calm, even then. Steady. She’d been completely naked, her hair wet, droplets of water tracing down her body, but she hadn’t seemed afraid.
Her full breasts on display. Brown, small, pebbled nipples that his mouth had watered for. A tapered waist that flared into wide hips his claws curled to grip. Dark, sparse curls that concealed her sex from his gaze. Her eyes had been wide but knowing. As if she realized too what was to come next.
That image, that first moment, was forever imprinted on his mind.
It took a moment for Jaxor to realize he’d turned to her completely, watching as she washed herself, turning his back to the furnace, wasting precious fuel. Her spine was curled, the bones poking through the back of her thin tunic. He watched a shiver rack her body and he worried that the water was too cold, especially with the chill in the air.
As if sensing his gaze on her, Erin’s head turned, pausing. Wet tendrils of hair framed her face. Her spine straightened as her head craned towards him. And again, she