“Thank you, Xoran,” I say. I step close enough that his knees are separated from my stomach by just a pinch. We’re so close, I can feel the heat rolling off of him. It feels nice against the delicate chill of the night air, and complements the heat radiating up from the sand beneath us. My feet sink into it, bare, all the way up to the ankles.
“Verax?”
“For Svera. Bringing her here. Why…how?” I don’t even know what to say, my chest is so full at the moment.
Xoran says flatly, “It pleases you to see her.”
“Hexa, it does.”
“You told me as much when we last spoke. It was not a difficult leap to imagine you would like to see her here, and it is my duty as Raku to ensure that my most trusted advisors and warriors are present. It would have been too great a slight not to have Krisxox here and he would not entrust her safety to another for the duration of the event.”
He wouldn’t entrust what now? “Still,” I breathe, tucking away thoughts of Svera and Krisxox for later, “You really don’t know what this means to me. I um…I feel a little silly now, but I have a gift for you. You bring one of my best friends across the planet to see me, meanwhile, all I have for you is this small trinket. It’s silly, really, so I understand if you don’t like it. I just…here.”
I lift the packet from my empty seat and hand it to him.
He looks at the thing with a frown. “You received this from Tri’Herion.”
“Oh yeah. Your mother told me about the ceremony, so I asked him to hold it for me until after I was presented.” I smirk, “You could have mentioned your mom would be coming to see me, by the way. She is a lovely woman. Bold and very proud. A little intimidating, if I’m being honest. Will we have her over sometime?”
“Have her over? You will explain what you mean by this.”
“Yeah, like…for a meal.”
“You will explain to me why this is necessary.”
I balk, “She’s your mom.”
“She is Drakanna. Mother of Raku. She is not Rakukanna and does not merit place at my table, in my private quarters. Those I share only with you.”
I feel my face warm and wonder if there’s any point in arguing. Yes, I decide. There is. “For humans, it’s important to honor our elders. We usually do this by spending time with them, listening to their stories, taking their advice, making them meals and caring for them when they’re too old to care for themselves.
“I never had parents and I would like to spend time with her, and I’m sure she would love to see you. You are her son and she speaks of you with great affection.”
Xoran grunts. “We can discuss this on a later solar. For this solar, we discuss you and your package and why you received it from my Tri'Herion. He has been spending much time in our private quarters.” His ridges flare black, brutally. Black isn’t good. That I know well enough by now.
“I…” My gut clenches as it suddenly occurs to me. His acidic glances, his avoidance, the way he looked at Tri’Herion. Comets! Does he think we…? that I…? “Oh no no no no no. Nox. I…oh stars, you don’t think — nox, I just asked him to hold it because I made you some things. This is one of them. There’s another one at home that he helped me source parts for. And there’s a third one, but I would never have let him help me with that one. It’s for later…for when we go back home and you and I…I was hoping that we would…I’ve…”
Xoran snarls and sits forward. He takes the package from my hands. “Do you mean to tell me that you have given me no reason to tear out Tri’Herion’s tongue through his throat?”
I can’t speak. I’m totally tongue-tied, blazing hot. I shake my head vigorously and finally manage a strangled, “Nox.”
Xoran leans back, testing the package’s weight between his enormous, six-fingered hands. “So you did not bed Tri’Herion.”
I can’t even breathe. I choke, “Nox! How could you think that? I…with you…after what we shared I couldn’t imagine even trying that with anyone else. Could you?”
He doesn’t answer. Oh universe, this is worse than I thought… He thinks I hate him. He doesn’t know how much his words meant to me. How much his actions have since. He doesn’t know that I like him. Maybe more than like. That I’m not mad about my position at his side, as his Xiveri mate. Maybe I never had reason to be. But does he like me?
I take in a breath, and try to clear my mind of the havoc that’s currently running away with my coherency and with my thoughts. I exhale, “Tri’Herion only helped me gather materials to create this for you. Just please…open it.”
Xoran sits still as stone and it’s maddening! I wish his ridges would flare with some kind of color, that he would smile or frown. That he’d even blink! Right now, he just stares mercilessly, and only after another incredible breath of silence, finally begins unwrapping the gift I built for him.
His claws cut swiftly through the twine binding it and in two swift motions, he sends the paper-like wrapping fluttering to the sands below. What’s left in his hand is a construct in metal, one that he stares at just as listlessly.
“It’s the Voraxian solar system,” I offer quietly, “I made it out of chrome parts and each of the planets is a different stone that I sanded and polished into marbles. The sun I filled with water from the xamxin river and that there at the bottom is the solar charger that Tri’Herion helped me source. It’s fitted into the bottom and with some charge, Voraxia’s eight planets will rotate around the sun, even through the night. I managed to outfit the solar charger with a battery just long enough to last a lunar.”
My hands twist together as I continue on, “I know it’s a little silly, but I thought that it might be a nice thing to put in our bedroom, and then maybe even our youngling’s bedroom, if we’re so lucky. You can see here, I attached the human colony to Cxrian,” I say pointing at a little shimmery speckled brown rock mounted on a thin filament to a larger red stone. “This way, our younglings will know where they come from. Both planets.”
I point at the little bits and pieces, coming forward so that I stand directly between Xoran’s knees. He watches intently as I explain all the parts, but his ridges only color once and only for a second. This time orange, and I’m not too sure on what that color means yet. I drop my arms, feeling dumb and nervous as I wait for him to say something — anything! — and shift my weight from hip to hip.
Finally, he sets the contraption aside, next to his goblet and looks at me. “It is skillfully created. You will tell me what type of pact you would like to create in exchange for this.”
Pact? Is he serious? “Nox. You said no more pacts.”
Now his ridges flare again, this time white and I’m gathering by the frown on his face and the way he crosses his arms, that this means either displeasure or confusion. That makes two of us.
“You will explain to me the meaning of this invention.”
“I made it as a gift, for you.”
“This word is not translating properly. I hear something akin to tithe. What a subject brings their ruler.”
“No. That’s not what I mean at all. I mean, like with Svera. You invited Svera here because you knew it would please me. At least that’s part of the reason you invited her here. On the human colony, we sometimes do things for each other or give things to each other to demonstrate our affection. I made this to show you that I…care for you.”
He still doesn’t speak. He just looks between me and the gift, like we’re two pieces of a puzzle that he cannot figure out how to fit together.
I huff, “You said before that I thought I was your slave and your whore. I did then, but I don’t think that anymore. What you said, it really meant a lot to me. I feel like I understand you better now and what it meant to you to find me on the colony. I can’t imagine what it would have been like knowing about the Xanaxana already and not having your mate reciprocate. But things are different now.”
I lean into him, against the seat of the throne and his thighs come together around my body,
caging me there. His hand twitches again and I know that it’s hard for him not to touch me but he doesn’t because he’s showing a restraint that I understand. He doesn’t want me unless I want him. And that makes all the difference.
“Now, I know that I am your Rakukanna and your Xiveri mate,” I say softly, “I made you this present as a really small token of how I feel about you and about the Xanaxana that guides us. I am starting to learn Voraxian. I am friends with Tri’Herion and I’m hoping to apprentice with him. I feel like I can really make a life here and you made that possible. You have shown me a whole new world I could only dream of. And pleasures I couldn’t even dream of.”
I reach out and stroke his cheek with just the tips of my fingers. “You frightened me in the beginning. You frighten me still. And there is a lot we still need to work out between us so that we can learn to live together. But being with you isn’t up for debate. And it isn’t because I promised. It’s because I’m finally starting to understand what you felt, and what my body felt from the beginning. That we’re right for each other.
“And I am honored to be here with you now, and I will be honored to be your Rakukanna, and I will be honored to hopefully, when the time comes, carry our young.
“I made you this just to say all of those things that I didn’t think I could. I didn’t realize you all don’t give gifts though. Could have saved me a lot of burns, trialing your gamma torch. We use old fashioned soldering tools on the human colony…”
I’m rambling now, and start to pull my hand back, but he catches it. He’s staring at my face and my hand and the gift balancing on the edge of his chair with eyes wide, nearly haunted. A sudden surge of heavy breaths punches in and out of his lungs.
“Xoran?” I whisper, concerned more than I’m afraid. “Are you okay?”
He shudders all over and nods and opens his mouth as if to speak, but doesn’t. Then his ridges…all at once, they explode in color. They take on every hue of the universe and spread quickly to color his entire forehead. The color travels down his neck and when he pulls me in towards him, I can see color bouncing off of the back of the chair from the ridges on his arms.
He wrenches me up onto the seat so that I’m straddling his thighs, but he doesn’t touch me like he did last time we were in such a position. Instead he bows his head and pulls his arms in to himself and he stays very still and he takes what sound like agonized breaths as the rumbling in his chest gets louder and louder until I have to lift my voice in order to speak over it.
“Xoran, talk to me. What’s happening? Are you okay?” The rumbling surges and my whole body trembles with it. I touch his shoulders and try to force him back so I can see his face, but he stays put. “Xoran, comets, say something…”
“Nox. They cannot see,” he grunts, and I understand completely. He’s using me as a shield.
“Oh stars,” I whisper, sitting up a little taller on my knees. I spread my arms awkwardly so that the hide fixed around my shoulders with the heaviest belt in the world unfolds like wings. I bow my head over his, hoping that from the back it looks like we’re making out…not that they do that here…But still, judging by his reaction, it’s probably a better option than everyone seeing him in this full frontal display, more brilliant than any sunset.
His hair is smooth against my cheek and smells light, accented with the most subtle, earthy fragrance. I whisper against the sharp edge of his ear, “Don’t worry, they can’t see you here. I’ll protect you.”
He barks out a shout as ripples cross the muscles in his back. I fold my arms around him as he slides his own arms beneath my covering and wrenches me to him. His lips meet my chest, in the space just above my heart and he kisses me there, warm and wet and rough.
I comb my fingers through his hair and for what feels like the most beautiful eternity, we just hold each other while the fires crackle and people dance around us.
It’s in that moment that I feel it with finality.
The Xanaxana in my stomach and chest and head and heart is no longer tormented. The molten river has settled. There is no more delirious flood. Because, like me — for maybe the first time in my life — my Xanaxana is home.
15
Xoran
It is as if my chest has ripped open and as it seals itself, the Xanaxana blankets me in a way it has not before. I thought the madness was over, but this was the final push. A push towards insanity and it happened here and now in the midst of all of my people, and dignitaries from afar who would only see this display and know that it was a weakness to use against me.
Her fingers gently pulling on my hair gently pull me out of the thick, colorful fog. I can breathe again and when I blink, I can see. I glance up at her kneeling above me and know that my ridges are an uncontrolled kaleidoscope of activity. I cannot help it. I have lost all control.
“You honor me,” I tell her and my voice is hardly recognizable. It is not even my own. The Xanaxana is settling within me for a final time, claiming each of my nerve endings, wrapping itself around each of my bones. It is done. The first Xiveri mating is complete. I am wholly hers.
Even if the Xanaxana has only realized it now, I knew that I was already. From the first instant I scented her.
Her face lifts in the pleasure expression and her eyes are bright. She covers my ridges with her hands and sweeps her shortest end digit below my eyes. “You honored me first.”
“This gift,” I say and I nearly choke on the word I use to describe it, “it is a very acceptable sign of affection.”
Her mouth opens and her white teeth flash as she releases her pleasure sound into the world. My ridges pulse once and then again when she says, “I’m glad you like it.”
“You stated previously that you have created more of these gifts for me. You will tell me now if this is true.”
“Yes. Hexa, it is true.” She makes more pleased sounds and I notice water in her eyes that was not there previous. The water eyes are both for pleasure and pain? Confusing. Marvelous. Fascinating.
“You will tell me what these other gifts are.”
“No way!” She swats my shoulder in a way that is playful and I am sure is another sign of affection. Never had I imagined that my Xiveri mate would be so affectionate as this. I never thought I would crave such affection. But I do crave. And even as she unravels me to my core, I am nothing but grateful for her.
I snarl, hating that I will have to wait. “You will tell me why.”
“Because it’s no fair if I just tell you what it is. You need to unwrap it. That’s half the fun. Imagining what’s inside…”
“I do not like this imagining now. I want to know and you will tell me.”
“Not on my life.” She points her finger at my nose threateningly, though I know she could not harm me with her blunted nails.
I snap at her finger, capturing it between my teeth. I suck on her flavor before popping her finger back out, and then I dive forward, past the barrier of the hide, and pull her whole nipple into my mouth.
She gasps, clapping a hand over her lips as she threatens to shout my born name to the world. Even if she had dishonored me in such a way, it wouldn’t matter now. I am too full, too consumed, too absorbed by her presence, her scent, her words. Her gift.
She does not understand that I have never received anything like this. We Voraxians do not exchange gifts. There are pacts and there are tithes but nothing is given freely, least of all in a demonstration of affection.
Demonstrating affection is unheard of in its entirety, and yet the depth of what she communicates with this solarverse she has rendered in miniature, but stunning likeness, leaves me shaken. Because it tells me that she cares, and after my shame at leaving her the last time we were together, I never hoped again that she might care for me as I do her.
Pulling apart from her just enough, I growl against her flesh, “I do not have this gift for you.”
“Hexa,” she pants, and I kiss her stomach softly in a way that suggests I do not inten
d to finish what I have started here. Not yet. “You brought Svera here. That is the greatest gift I could have imagined. Thank you.”
“You did not unwrap this gift. Thus, it is not gift.”
“Yes it is.”
“It is not. But I will improve. What shall I gift for you?”
She laughs again and when she lowers herself onto my knees and smooths her hands over my ridges, I know that the color must have died enough for her to expose me. I trust her.
I trust her.
“It doesn’t work like that,” she says and there is pleasure in her eyes, which seem to shine as brightly as the xamxin river. “If I know what it is, it’s not a gift. You have to be surprised. Were you surprised by this?”
“Hexa.” I look to the device and gently stroke the blue-grey stone she has selected to proxy Voraxia. I reach up to my Miari and touch her cheek. “I am honored by this greatly. As I am by you. I could imagine no other Rakukanna. You are perfect and tonight, if you will have me, I will breed you. I hunger…”
I take her hand and hesitantly place it on the front of my loin cloth. I received another following the ceremony and it tents as it as has tented for her all solar.
I growl when she palms my xora freely, as she has before. Her eyes are glazed with a desire that might just match my own. At least, it might come close.
I comb my fingers through her curls. “I ache for you, Miari, as I have ached these past many solars and lunars.”
“I know.” She squeezes my xora and licks her lips and my thighs harden, my bones ache. I am desperate for her breeding slit. It is only covered by such thin cloth. It would take almost no effort at all to remove it. “I’ve ached too.”
I hiss and deliver the kiss to her temple before pulling her tight against me. “We must remain a little longer, until after we have received the dignitaries from the other quadrants. And I must feed you. Then, we will return to our home where you will give to me these gifts that you have prepared and after I know what is within these gifts, I will devour you.”
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