lips pressed together. He could have lived at one of the outposts, but the Ambassadors would not have welcomed him, given their relationship with his blood brother. Even now, he snuck in and out, keeping a low profile. Most had forgotten his face over time, had forgotten the spare heir to the throne of Luxiria. His only real danger would have been if he’d come face-to-face with any of the Ambassadors—Lihvan, Rixavox, Vikan, Kirov, Cruxan—males he’d known well during warrior training.
“But even being out here, being away from them, you still meet with the Mevirax. You still communicate with them,” she continued.
Jaxor blew out a breath, knowing he would have to lie to her. Hating the churning in his gut at the thought of it.
“I meet with them to try to get information,” he said. A partial lie, then. A half-truth. “Because if I truly believe that they are close to endangering the whole of Luxiria, I will return to the Golden City myself and tell the Prime Leader. But for now, they are no great threat.”
She seemed to buy his answer, which only made the guilt so much worse. It was unnatural to lie to a mate. To keep things hidden. His Instinct was punishing him enough for it, the way it prowled in his chest and beat at his mind.
“And us? Were you planning to trade Crystal and me to them?”
She was looking at him, straight in the eye. She would believe him, whatever he told her. He could see her desire to trust him, and that nearly broke him down completely, nearly made him want to confess all so they could begin anew. Would she even want that?
“At first,” he found himself saying. Another half-truth? “They knew of your presence in the Golden City. They had planned to ransom you to the Prime Leader in exchange for technology they did not yet possess. That was all.”
Her lips parted. He hated the dawning of understanding that entered her gaze. Jaxor had never hated himself more than in that moment, a terrible, horrific feeling when just moments before, he believed he’d never been happier.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, his mind screamed.
Just like he was. Wrong in the head and wrong in the heart.
“And what was in it for you?”
“I had worked so long to gain their trust. They asked this of me, as a test. They needed to believe I was loyal to them, or else I would not have been privy to their plans.”
“You were a spy,” she said, tilting her head to the side.
Jaxor couldn’t look her in the eye. “It was what they asked of me,” he finally said, feeling the lies growing and growing in his mind.
A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if, when his rixella found out the truth—because eventually she would—she would ever be able to look at him again.
“But you didn’t go through with it,” she said, hope tinging her tone.
He swallowed. “Nix.”
“When they came that night in the forest, you kept me hidden from them.”
The guilt was making it difficult to breathe. He didn’t say anything. For all his faults, that night, he wouldn’t have been able to hand her over. Not when so much had changed, not when so much was uncertain.
Perhaps he did need to start praying to Kollasor again. Because after this, he might not have a soul left.
Erin sighed when he didn’t answer. She surprised him by brushing back a strand of hair that fell across his forehead. When he could finally meet her gaze, she was looking at him with understanding and he wished she would look at him with disgust. After finding out about the Luxirian crystals especially, she should never want to touch him again.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly.
And slowly, as if he would be spooked by the movement, she leaned forward to kiss him.
Though she was sweet like the obiraxi, all Jaxor could taste was the bitterness of his lies.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Later that night, after they’d both eaten their fill of obiraxi and jerky and the crunchy tubers that Jaxor grew in his base, they retreated to the small cave. Jaxor had fixed the door after pulling it off its hinges, keeping out most of the cold once he secured it tight.
The single lantern flickered softly as Erin crawled into Jaxor’s lap and straddled his thighs.
He’d been quiet the rest of the day, after telling her about the Mevirax and his involvement with them. She’d sensed the truth in his voice.