by Zoey Draven
His eyes had taken on a glassy look in the past few hours and they regarded her closely. Finally, he held out his left arm to her and with panic churning in her stomach, she gently unwound the moss gauze with trembling hands.
Her lips pressed together when she saw the wound.
“It’s infected, isn’t it?” she whispered, staring, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.
But there was no doubt about it.
The edges where the thread held his wound closed were inflamed and seeping. The dark blue veins she’d spied from afar grew in width the closer they came to the slash and his skin felt hot to the touch. It looked worse than when she’d stitched it together.
“What can I do?” she asked, her eyes darting up to his. “What can I do to help you?”
“Luxiva…” he trailed off with a sharp exhale and her heart dropped.
“You knew it was infected this morning, didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It had already set in. I felt it setting in during the night,” he admitted quietly. “There is nothing we can do but let it run its course. I did not wish for you to worry.”
“Did you think you could hide this from me?” she asked, tears spilling over her cheeks. This was dangerous. They had no medicine, no help. What would an infection this gruesome do to him? “Lihvan…oh my God, I feel like this is my fault.”
His brows drew together. “Of course it is not your fault.”
“M-maybe I didn’t boil the moss long enough to kill all the bacteria. Maybe I didn’t flush it out right.”
He cradled her face in his hand, leaving his other arm in her lap. “You did not do this, luxiva. I was the one who made an error during the hunt. Without proper supplies…it would have been lucky for the wound not to become infected. It was most likely inevitable.”
Her forehead met the crook of his neck. His body felt hot, damp.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“Wait,” he replied. “That is all we can do. Earlier this morning, I placed hunting markers throughout this area. Luxirians will recognize them. If they scout out anywhere near here, the markers will lead them right to the cave.”
He’d planned this. He knew that he’d become ill…possibly too ill to do anything. And still, he’d made preparations. Just in case.
“Lihvan…” she whispered.
“They will find us, Beks,” he said. “The Fates will lead them here. I know it.”
SIXTEEN
Two days later, there was still no sign of Lihvan’s people. And his condition only deteriorated.
He slept almost all hours of the day and when he was lucid, Beks had to force him to rest since he wanted to hunt for her. But he was in no condition to do anything. His fever had spiked the previous day and hadn’t let up. It gutted her to see him in pain, to see him thrash from his fever dreams, and mumble incoherent things. Beks tried to keep him as comfortable as possible, wiping down his body with cool water and keeping him hydrated as best as she could.
It was probably a good thing that she had no appetite, considering that they didn’t have any food.
What concerned her most, despite Lihvan’s infection, was that their fire fuel was almost out. Without fire, she wouldn’t be able to keep them hydrated. And with the way the infection was raging through his body, she worried that Lihvan wouldn’t last long. Not unless he got serious medical attention and soon.
Every moment of the day, she was a wreck, but she tried to keep a brave face, especially when Lihvan was awake. Even when he was passed out, she would talk to him with tears running down her face, telling him stories of her childhood with her mother, of her college days, of the fun shenanigans her and Kate had always got up to. She thought that if she just kept talking to him, he wouldn’t be able to give up and leave her.
The thought of him dying…it scared her more than anything in her life. Every time she thought of it, it was like stabbing herself with a dagger, right in the chest. So, she did her best to stay positive, to not think about what might happen, even when it seemed hopeless.
She had to have Lihvan’s faith that his people would find them before it was too late. So she was going to try her damnedest to help them survive until they did.
That was why, before the sun set completely, she tied on the shoes that Lihvan had crafted for her, grabbed his dagger, and set out into the black vine forest. Their fire fuel wouldn’t last them another full night. She had to find that little clay-like creature Lihvan located their first day to harvest more so that she could boil more water for tomorrow.
Careful to track her direction, she trudged on, heart beating in her ears, her eyes scanning for anything out of the ordinary. She was no hunter, not like Lihvan. And it was risky coming out like this…but it was necessary. She wouldn’t let her alien down.
For hours, it seemed, she scoured for that clay creature, looking into places she probably shouldn’t have looked into, in cave holes, under and around large, black boulders, and craggy fissures in the ground. All the while, she worried about Lihvan, trying to hurry back to him. She was tempted to give up, but she knew that she couldn’t. She wouldn’t return empty handed.
At last, just as the sky turned gray, she found one. She almost burst into tears at the sight of it, but held it together long enough to tear off a chunk.
“Sorry little guy,” she whispered, ripping off the hem of her shirt to soak it in the fluid that emerged, just like how she’d seen Lihvan do it the first day.
Once she finished, she hurried back in the direction of the cave, hoping that she wouldn’t lose her way.
But just as she spied the cave entrance in between the thick black vines, she was aware that something was out of the ordinary. A strange hush had filled the already quiet forest. And that was when she heard a small shift in the pebbles behind her.
Spinning around, her eyes widened and her heart froze in fear when she saw a creature looming fifteen feet away, watching her, tracking her.
Panic clawed up her throat. It was on all fours, but even then, she saw that it was massive. Hard spikes lined its spine and it had sickly pale white flesh, transparent enough that she could see the beating of its heart, even from the distance. Its eyes glowed yellow and its mouth was rimmed with similarly colored, long ‘v’-shaped teeth.
How long had it been watching her?
When it moved, she hardly heard a thing. It was a predator, a good predator.
Beks clutched Lihvan’s dagger in her palm tightly, wondering if she could outrun it. It was only a short distance to the cave, but she wasn’t so sure that it couldn’t fit through. There was no way she would lead that thing to Lihvan.
Slowly, it reared back onto its hind legs, like some grotesque, mutant werewolf. When it let out that ear-splitting, hair-raising warbling sound she’d heard that first day on this planet, she knew that this was the creature Lihvan had wanted to avoid. The one that they had hunted in groups.
Then it lunged for her.
And Beks screamed.
* * *
Lihvan jerked from a strange restless dream to the reality of pure terror.
Beks, he thought, dizzy and uncoordinated. His limbs felt like boulders, heavy and unresponsive. When he looked down, he was covered in sweat and the gauze on his arm was tinged with dark blood.
Frantically, he cast his eyes around the cave.
“Beks,” he tried to call, but his voice sounded like grit. How long have I been under? he wondered, trying to clear his clouded thoughts.
That was when a scream pierced through him and froze his entire soul. The same scream that had woken him from his sleep just moments before.
“Beks!” he roared, feeling adrenaline fuel his body, propelling him into action. “Beks!”
The ugliest fear gripped him when he heard that scream. Fear like he had never known and he’d fought many bloody battles and lost many Luxirians he cared for.
Stumbling down the cave, vision hazy, he burst out into the vine fo
rest, eyes scanning wildly, limbs clumsy. He gave his head a shake, trying to focus, and that was when he spied a prikkrax, or at least that was what Luxirians called them. It meant ‘feared one’ in his language.
But what dropped his stomach was when he saw that its gaze was trained on his luxiva, his Beks.
When a prikkrax identified its next prey, it was relentless in the pursuit of it. Nothing would deter it. It was how one of his hunt brothers had lost his life.
His female had tucked herself in between two boulders, the crack just slim enough that the prikkrax couldn’t reach her, even though it was trying with its claws. The boulder was beginning to crumble under its strength and Lihvan roared, pulse pounding, body weakened.
The prikkrax turned around on him and yowled that awful sound he’d hoped never to hear again. A few strides away from it, he saw his dagger and he ran as fast as his body would allow towards it, his only thought was that he needed to protect his mate at all costs.
Bringing down a prikkrax by himself, in full health, with his choice of weapon? He might be able to. Bringing down a prikkrax with an infection running through his body, with a handmade dagger? Next to impossible, but he would defend his mate to his last breath to secure her safety.
On uncertain limbs, he scooped up his dagger and launched himself at the prikkrax, implanting his weapon into one of its sides as a way of distraction. The creature had a thick hide, but the dagger slipped through easily enough, making it turn and hiss, swiping out one of its claws at Lihvan.
A burning sensation reached him as the claws made contact with his chest and a gush of blood followed. Gritting his teeth, he twisted, his body sluggish, but he managed to get away just before the prikkrax took aim once more.
In the back of his mind, he heard Beks screaming at him to get away, her voice growing hoarse. But he would not abandon her. He’d rather die.
He was winded already, his body trying to cope with the sudden energy and movement, and he panted, sweat dripping off his face, pooling into his eyes. When the creature slashed again, Lihvan grunted and dodged. He retaliated with a swipe of his own claws, his vast training starting to kick in, his muscle memory revving. His eyes zeroed in on the kill point on the prikkrax, a slight section of gills on its side that led straight to its heart. If he could puncture it, the creature would fall and Beks would be safe.
But his dagger wouldn’t reach that far inside. He would have to do it with his own claws.
So, he did everything in his ability to line up the kill, even as his body started to shut down. His blood rushed in his ears, his eyes felt heavy, and his limbs refused to cooperate.
But then he spied Beks, wedged between the two boulders. She had a look of pure fear on her features and his Instinct roared from within him, giving him the burst of energy he sorely needed to protect her.
When the prikkrax feigned left, Lihvan corrected his position and followed, launching himself at the creature one last time, his arm pulling back to strike. With a roar, he imbedded his arm into its gills, claws straightened. He felt a snap of his wrist and pain made his arm shake as the bone broke, but he pushed forward, clawing through muscles to reach the heart.
The beast thrashed, yowling, trying to buck him off its side. But Lihvan felt the hard thump of its heart and with one last push, he punctured straight through it.
Just as he did, however, the prikkrax got in one last hit and pain made Lihvan cry out hoarsely as it imbedded its teeth into his abdomen, tearing flesh and muscle. It ripped Lihvan off its side and he rolled, sharp pebbles stabbing his wounds, burrowing deep inside.
A bitter relief filled him when he saw the prikkrax falter, hissing and growling…before it fell as well, quaking the ground. With a few last rattled breaths, it stilled and the forest was silent once more.
He heard the crunch of feet as Beks scrambled her way out and rushed towards him. Tears were falling down her face as she dropped to his side.
“Lihvan,” she cried, voice breaking, looking over him, her hands fluttering at his sides. “Oh my God, oh my God…”
He must look like death because her face was pale and frantic. He felt surprisingly warm as he felt blood pooling just below him.
“Just hold on,” she murmured, over and over again. “I’ll—I’ll—”
“Luxiva…” Pain racked him, making his muscles tense.
“I…I don’t think I can move you,” she whispered, her face shining with her tears, as the sun finally descended in the sky. Soon, it would be pitch black and the cold front was already beginning.
“You need to go back to the cave,” he rasped. His body was slowly cooling. “It is dangerous out here.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” she said, determination hardening her voice. “Don’t even try to ask me to do that.”
“Luxiva.”
She settled against him, smoothing her hand over his chest. She ripped a piece of her shirt and used the wad to help the flow of blood on his side. He didn’t want to tell her that nothing would prevent him from bleeding out. The wound was too great and they had nothing else but rags.
“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” she whispered, applying for pressure even when he winced, pebbles digging into his side.
He almost laughed. She was relentless, even now.
“It means ‘fated one,’” he told her.
Another sob wrenched out from her throat.
“Lihvan…I—,” she cut herself off and her head turned sharply. “What was that?”
Panic made Lihvan push at her arm. “Please, luxiva, go back to the cave,” he begged her. The scent of blood would draw all kinds of creatures to their clearing.
His vision was starting to go hazy and he fought it with a shake of his head. He realized that he couldn’t feel his limbs, that they were tingling and numb.
“Luxiva,” he rasped. “Go!”
But she was still looking in the opposite direction, her eyes narrowed as she tried to see through the thickening darkness.
“Lihvan,” she whispered, her voice hushed, “I think someone is coming.”
He struggled to fight against the blackness that was consuming him slowly. He tried to focus on his female’s face, so that it might center him, but even she was beginning to grow blurry.
“Beks…” he murmured.
“Hold on, Lihvan,” she said, her tone taking on one of urgency. “Just hold on, please!” He heard a strange sound and then Beks yelling, “Hello! Hello, over here! Hurry!”
He spied movement close to Beks, but it was too dark to make out. Blindly, he tried to lift his arm to swing, to defend his mate, but his limbs didn’t respond.
“Luxiva…”
Then the world went dark.
SEVENTEEN
Beks came awake suddenly, dread making her eyes dart around the room, looking, searching, needing to see Lihvan. Her breath shuttered out of her when she saw him and she felt peace return, loosening the knot in her stomach and calming her heart rate.
He was resting on a pristine cot…in the medical bay…on a Luxirian space ship.
His people had finally found them. And just in the knick of time too. Any later and Lihvan wouldn’t have made it.
She’d refused to leave his side. One Luxirian male, named Cruxan, who had identified himself as a close friend of Lihvan’s and a fellow Ambassador to the Prime Leader of Luxiria, urged her to rest in her own private room, saying that Lihvan would want her to recover her strength.
But she knew she wouldn’t be able to get a lick of sleep unless she was near him. After many attempts, Cruxan finally gave up and had another cot brought in for her, which they had placed right next to Lihvan’s. It was where she curled up and rested and slept, while Lihvan did the same. Although he hadn’t woken since that night he’d defended her from that werewolf-like creature. And that night had been almost two days ago.
Beks still recalled the sheer burst of relief when she spied tall figures searching through the black vine fores
t on the planet they’d been stranded on. She’d been so much of a bawling mess that she’d actually startled a few Luxirians, so torn between gratitude and fear for Lihvan. He’d been bleeding out, growing more and more incoherent with every passing moment, and they’d saved his life by stabilizing him with an injection that immediately clotted his blood. Then, they carried him back to the ship, with Beks hot on their heels, fussing over her alien.
She was bathed, had on a fresh shirt, and fed…but Lihvan still hadn’t woken. And she’d give anything for him to be okay. She’d rather be back on the planet with him, before he’d been injured hunting, because at least he’d been there.
The door to the medical bay whooshed open and Cruxan and the Luxirian doctor they’d sent aboard this rescue mission stepped inside. Cruxan’s lips tightened when he saw that she was still in the room, but wisely kept his comments to himself.
“Has he woken yet?” he asked her instead, as if he hadn’t just been in the room a couple hours ago. It was obvious that Lihvan meant a lot to him. Cruxan had let slip that he’d gone through military training with Lihvan, that he’d been on the planet—which she now knew was called ‘Jalun’—during the hunt with him, which was why their Prime Leader had sent Cruxan instead of another Ambassador…because he knew the planet.
“No,” she said softly, watching as the doctor, whose name was Privanax, examined Lihvan and checked his readings on one of the ‘Coms.’ Privanax had given her an examination as well to ensure they hadn’t picked up any viruses from Jalun, and ever since, she’d been wary of the guy. She’d always hated doctors.
“Anything?” Cruxan questioned him.
“Nix,” Privanax replied. “Time is all he needs. The infection is still healing even though the wound from the prikkrax has closed over.”
Cruxan jerked his head in a nod, his gaze straying to his prone friend. Then his eyes rested on her, studying.