“Very well, rixella,” he murmured, deciding it was apparently a human aversion to have sex in places touched by religion.
She bit her lip. “But when we get back home, there is that rock by the cave that looks like the pedestal. And we can always pretend.”
Jaxor wanted to laugh and groan and purr in agreement all at the same time. But what struck him the most was that she’d called his base ‘home.’
And that word alone filled him with hope, with longing, and possibility. Was it possible that she was beginning to envision a life with him? A future? On Luxiria?
He’d learned a lot about his luxiva during his time with her. He’d learned that she liked quiet mornings, but that she also liked spending her nights by the fire, watching the flames flicker, wrapped in heavy furs. He’d learned she liked something called ‘ice cream’ back on Earth and that she’d kill for ‘coffee.’ He’d learned that she cried whenever she spoke of her memories of her siblings, of Jake and Ellora, and that she missed them. He’d learned that when she looked at him, deep and soft, he felt whole and right, possibly for the first time in his lifespan.
Five spans together felt like rotations and Jaxor couldn’t remember a time he’d been happier or more content. As promised, they were taking it one span at a time.
His voice was guttural as he said, “Tev, we can.”
But as the spans drew on without incident, so did Jaxor’s worries. There was an unease in Jaxor that he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t only that Tavar’s deadline had passed. By now, the Mevirax leader would know of Jaxor’s betrayal. Without the human females in their possession, they had nothing to bargain with the Jetutians, with Po’grak. Would Tavar retaliate?
Jaxor also couldn’t stop thinking about Vaxa’an. Before, he’d thought of his blood brother almost every span, but lately, the thought of him was a constant presence in his mind.
Erin had asked Jaxor if he could mend the broken bond between himself and his brother, would he? Jaxor had replied on instinct. Tev. Of course he would.
And she’d asked why he hadn’t already.
In that moment, a thousand reasons why had flooded his mind. A thousand reasons why Vaxa’an would not wish to see him. A thousand reasons why Jaxor could not return to the Golden City—stealing away Erin and Crystal and the attack on their guards adding to that long list.
In his own mind, bringing the human females to the Mevirax, to the Jetutians, would help his people. He would kill the Jetutian leader responsible for the attack on his race and secure the cure for the virus before Tavar could. That had always been the plan.
Now, Jaxor was ashamed to admit that he’d barely given the human females a second thought. Not until one of them turned out to be his fated mate.
Ever since they’d consummated their bond, the guilt was eating him up. How many times had it been on the tip of his tongue to tell her of his deceit? How many times had he wanted to confess that even when he’d first brought her to the base, a part of him was still thinking of giving her up? Of sacrificing her well-being, her future, her life to the Jetutians in exchange for his revenge?
Sometimes, he was so ashamed he couldn’t look her in the eye.
And at night, as she slept in his arms, he was plagued by nightmares of darkness, of the dungeons deep below the Caves of the Pevrallix. He was plagued by memories of his blood brother.
Jaxor watched as Erin turned back to the crumbling temple. He rubbed at that aching spot in his chest again and followed behind her, navigating through stone and dense foliage and the black trees that surrounded it. Again, he was tempted to confess everything in that quiet, eerie place.
But the words stuck in his mouth and he stayed silent instead.
“How old is this place?” she asked, trailing her fingers over ancient stone.
Jaxor tried to see it with her eyes. This strange place. He tried to see what she saw, but couldn’t.
“I do not know,” he said.
“How’d you find it?”
“The circumstances were much like this span,” he said. “I was out looking for supplies and stumbled upon it.”
“You didn’t have a hovercraft then, though, did you?” she questioned.
“Nix,” he said. “I had the skimmer then.” The one he’d left behind for Cruxan after he’d