by Zoey Draven
“I keep thinking of you, at the moment when you heard that music,” he said. “You are beautiful to me, Lani, always…but in that moment, you were…vrax, you were more. Music gave you that happiness. It radiated from you. Here, on Luxiria, you cannot experience music like that. It is something I fear I will never be able to give you. That realization has haunted me since.”
“If you’re asking me if I miss my home, if I miss Earth, of course I do,” Lainey said, both softened and frustrated by his words. “Wouldn’t you?”
But she knew with certainty that if she returned to Earth, she would be changed forever. She would miss Kirov, ache for him too much to be whole again, even with music.
She kept that to herself, however, afraid to speak those words.
It was a truth, a reality for her now that she could never be that person she was on Earth again. Not with everything she’d experienced, everything she’d seen.
Not that I want to be that person again, her mind whispered.
On Earth, before her abduction, she’d been bitter, alone, lashing out at people who tried to get close to her. She’d remained estranged from her parents, even though she’d gone back to music, even though she’d started performing again. After Nadine’s death, the only thing that had kept her going was music. It was the only thing that had given her purpose, as pathetic as it sounded.
And even though she wanted to, she didn’t tell Kirov any of this at that moment. Though her mind screamed at her to confide in him, to soothe his justified worry, her tongue remained tied and tight behind her teeth.
There was still a part of her that wouldn’t give everything to him, she realized. And maybe he’d realized that too. Maybe that was where this was all coming from. He wasn’t a genius for nothing.
And Kirov was a male who deserved everything.
But could she give everything to him, knowing that he held something important from her?
“I would miss Luxiria with every part of my being,” he said finally, softly. His eyes raised to meet hers, intensity shining in them. “But I know, without a single doubt in my mind, that I would give it all up for you.”
Lainey swallowed back a gasp at the certainty in his voice.
“But I also know, without a doubt, that you do not feel the same,” he finished slowly.
“There’s a lot…there’s a lot that we still don’t know about each other, Kirov,” she murmured, desperately scrambling for an excuse. Anything to dismiss those words, which felt wrong coming out of his mouth, which made her feel sick.
He saw right through her excuse, as usual.
“This again,” Kirov bit out, his hands tightening on the edges of the table.
“It’s true!” she exclaimed, her temper rising. “We’ve known each other for what…less than three weeks?”
“What do I not know about you, luxiva?” he growled. “I know everything. Everything important.”
Lainey sucked in a breath. “No, you don’t.”
“Then tell me,” he growled, his voice booming around the room. “Tell me something I do not know.”
“I had a best friend,” Lainey found herself saying, sliding off the table, her anger growing. She didn’t like this situation, didn’t like the way he was pressing her. He was always pressing her, pushing her. “She was like a sister to me, I knew her better than I knew music, and she knew me like the back of her hand. And then she died. And it ripped me apart and I’ve never the same.”
Some of Kirov’s fight drained from his body, his eyes softening ever so slightly, but when he reached for her, she stepped away from his touch. “Luxiva, come here.”
“No,” she said, her hands trembling at their unexpected confrontation. The night had been going so well and suddenly it wasn’t. Why? Why were they doing this now? “Something else you don’t know about me is that I’ve always picked the wrong men because maybe deep down, I knew they wouldn’t last, that I didn’t want them to. My last boyfriend was emotionally abusive and I let that go on longer than I should’ve. And it only took until it got physical for me to leave him.”
Kirov growled, going still. “He hurt you?”
“Yes,” she hissed, tears filling her eyes, emotions assaulting her from all sides. What the hell was happening? “And after him, I never touched another man. Not until you.”
“Luxiva—”
“Something else you don’t know about me,” she continued, still evading his grasp, “is that I haven’t talked to my parents in years.”
Kirov stilled, watching her closely.
“I picked up music on my own,” she admitted. “I touched a piano once when I was four and it was immediate. It was love and I didn’t even know what love was then. But it was my mother who forced me into it. Who made me practice late into the nights, until my hands cramped and my fingers spasmed. It was my mother who signed me up for showcases and performances and took me out of school, even though my grades were failing. It was my mother who once slapped me across the face so hard I heard my ears ring when I refused to go on stage one night when I was twelve. And when my father cheated on her, when he started sleeping with one of my music instructors, with one of the board members at his company, with the nineteen-year-old college girl who lived across the street, my mother would take her pain and anger out on me. But what was worse than the abuse was that she made me hate music. It made me sick to my stomach to touch a piano.”
Lainey realized that she was crying, that her voice was raspy and husky and she was dragging in deep breaths because she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“The moment I turned eighteen, I moved away. I quit piano, threw away everything I’d worked hard for, just to prove she didn’t control me anymore, didn’t own me anymore,” Lainey said. “And it was Nadine, my best friend, who finally encouraged me to take it back up again, who helped me rediscover that love again. When I listen to music, I remember that. I remember her and her support and that’s a part of why it makes me so happy.”
Lainey dashed a tear away from her cheek before crossing her arms, hugging her waist. She looked up at Kirov who was standing just an arm’s length away, but he felt a lot farther. She didn’t know why she’d told him those things, all at once, but they’d exploded once she’d started and she hadn’t been able to stop.
But she didn’t like to be pushed. He knew that. Perhaps that was why he’d done it.
“So my point is,” she continued softly, “that no…you don’t know ‘everything important’ about me.”
“Lani—”
“And it doesn’t feel nice to be left in the dark, does it, Kirov?”
She held his eyes as she said it and watched his jaw tighten at her unspoken message. She’d stopped asking about his father because there was only so much rejection she would take before she learned to keep her mouth shut.
Kirov was silent, the lab completely quiet. The conversation had started out innocent enough, but had ended in a much different place. But Lainey felt like it needed to be said.
Lainey waited for him to speak, to say anything really.
Say something, she pleaded in her mind. Hold me, tell me you love me, trust me, confide in me about your father.
But he never did. He never did any of those things.
The old Lainey would’ve lashed out at him then. Would’ve tried to push him away, to hurt him…simply because she felt vulnerable.
Now, however, she had no desire to do that. Not to Kirov. She wanted to be better for him. She didn’t want to be the old Lainey.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fresh tears continuing to fall from her eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you these things until now, Kirov. But you keep things from me too. I’ve tried to act like it doesn’t hurt, but it does. And until we’re more honest with each other, until we can trust each other with these things…I just don’t know where we stand. You’re asking me to give up everything I’ve known for you, you want me to bond myself to you during the ravraxia, but you won’t even introduce
me to your father. Don’t you realize how that makes me feel?”
Kirov flinched, turning away, running a hand over his horn in frustration.
Until they sorted their shit out, until they were open with one another…she didn’t know if they could have a future.
That realization hurt worst of all.
“You do not understand,” he finally said.
“Then make me understand, Kirov,” she pleaded. “Please.”
She waited. And waited.
But he remained silent.
Finally, he said, “It is late. We should return to the dwelling now.”
Feeling deflated, emotionally raw, vulnerable, Lainey’s shoulders sagged.
And for the rest of the night, she couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I fear it is lost,” Vaxa’an confided, through the Com screen in Kirov’s personal lab.
“Cruxan has yet to locate it? It has been almost half a lunar cycle since it was taken,” Kirov said, reading the frustration on the Prime Leader’s face.
“No,” Vaxa’an replied. “The male who took it was brought in for questioning, stripped of his warrior rank, but he handed it off before Cruxan got to him. We are still debating punishment.”
“Who could he have given it to? Other warriors in his unit have already been questioned, tev?”
Vaxa’an hesitated. He’d been doing that more often lately and Kirov knew that it stemmed from his own actions when he’d stolen Lainey from the Golden City. His friend and warrior brother no longer trusted him like he used to. He probably never would again.
“It was revealed during questioning of the warrior’s unit that his blood sister had gone to the Mevirax, to join them.”
Kirov cursed.
The Mevirax. The Others.
They were a dissenting group of Luxirian warriors that had rebelled during Vaxa’an’s sire’s rule, long ago. Their exit from Luxirian society had been a bloody one, but they had taken their possessions, their females, and offspring and had gone to live in the wild lands of Luxiria, starting their own tribe. They were rumored to live near the cave of the Pevrallix, a sacred place.
No one spoke of them. No one dared to.
To make matters worse, Vaxa’an’s own blood brother, Jaxor’an, had joined the Mevirax, shortly after the Jetutians unleashed their plague, killing Vaxa’an’s and Jaxor’an’s mother and, by extension, their sire, leaving Luxiria to Vaxa’an’s rule.
“You believe that this warrior gave the crystal to his blood sister?” Kirov asked, trying to see the logic behind that. “Why? What need would the Mevirax have of our most powerful crystal?”
“I do not know. But there are rumors,” Vaxa’an said quietly. “Whisperings.”
“Of what?” Kirov growled.
“That their females can bear offspring.”
Kirov stilled, but then shook his head, “Impossible. Privanax has worked tirelessly in his labs concerning our females’ fertility. The Mevirax…they have stones and earth. They do not have our technology.”
“Perhaps technology is not what the females needed,” Vaxa’an countered. “Perhaps the Fates healed their females.”
“You believe these rumors?”
“I do not know what I believe,” Vaxa’an said, shaking his head. “But I do know that there are more and more reports of females gone to seek them out, of Breeding pairs leaving the Golden City, hopeful for offspring of their own. It does not seem as if the rumors have reached the outposts yet, but I fear that in time, they will.”
“You just mention this to me now?” Kirov asked, frustration mounting. His temper had been quick of late, especially since last night.
“I will give information to my Ambassadors as I see fit,” Vaxa’an growled.
Kirov blew out a sharp breath, knowing it would take time. “If you wish to personally punish me for taking my fated mate, then fine. But these matters concern the Luxirians residing in the outposts and I do not appreciate being kept in the dark.”
Kept in the dark.
Words his female had shot at him last night, words that had buried into his soul and festered.
She’d been right. It didn’t feel good. It felt like betrayal.
Vaxa’an went silent, tension radiating through the feed, before the Prime Leader finally said, “I will need you back in the Golden City in six spans. I am calling all Ambassadors here so we can decide on proper action with the council.”
Kirov gritted his teeth, but forced himself to nod, trying to keep control of his temper. “Yes, Prime Leader.”
Vaxa’an inclined his head and then cut off the feed. Kirov stared at the blank screen and cursed, running a hand over his horn in frustration.
It was late in the evening. Usually, his luxiva would be with him at the labs at this time. They would be working on their project, but Kirov had not gone to her, still guilty and aggravated about what had transpired between them the night before.
The call with Vaxa’an didn’t help matters and once again, Kirov was running out of time.
All morning, Lani had been distant. They had hardly touched, hardly spoken. And it physically hurt him…knowing that he was the cause, knowing that he was giving her reason to detach.
Kirov gave a frustrated bellow, hearing it echo around the quiet space.
She didn’t ask much of him either.
She only wanted to meet his sire.
She only wanted him to be honest.
Why was that so hard?
For many reasons, he knew. Reasons that he could and could not verbalize to her.
But he hadn’t even tried. He hadn’t even tried to tell her why he’d kept her away from his sire. He hadn’t tried to explain the situation. It had nothing to do with her. Yet, she believed it did. She believed that Kirov was ashamed of her, had alluded to it last night.
And he’d said nothing.
Kirov squeezed the edge of the table so hard he felt the metal bend beneath his palms.
He’d said nothing.
Throughout that morning, throughout the rest of the span, and the time alone he’d spent in his labs, something became very apparent to him.
Either he opened up about his sire, or he would lose her forever.
There was no contest between the two and Kirov knew that he’d put it off long enough, risking everything he’d built with Lani in the process.
He’d been a fool.
But he knew what he had to do, what he should’ve done a long time ago, from the very first moment his luxiva had stepped foot in Troxva.
Kirov set his jaw and pushed back from the table. He shut down his Coms for the night and then left the labs, heading towards his hovercraft.
It would happen as soon as he returned to the dwelling.
Kirov would introduce her to his sire.
Then he would pray to the Fates that she didn’t run from him afterwards.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
That night Lainey was sitting in their unfinished kitchen at the ‘island’ counter Kirov had installed the morning before.
It was almost finished and Lainey looked around at the seamless, beautiful lines. An alien kitchen, but one she helped design. She’d described human kitchen appliances to Kirov—an oven and a stovetop being the most important—and sketched them out for him. He’d told her that he would make them.
Everything was simple for him in that way. If he didn’t have something, he could create it.
She loved that about him, that he was so resourceful and intelligent.
So why did her heart feel so heavy that night, sitting in their unfinished kitchen?
Because I wonder if I’ll ever get to use it, she thought.
That time last night, they’d been in his labs. She’d been crying, pleading with him to be honest with her. It had been a difficult moment, an even more difficult night when they’d returned to the house. That morning had been filled with tense silence before Kirov had left…and she hadn’t seen hi
m since.
Her heart was aching, on the verge of breaking. But she still clung to a little thread of stubborn hope, which was so completely unlike her. To hope for something. To imagine the positive instead of the negative.
She saw the lights of Kirov’s hovercraft flash against the wall in front of her as he landed on the terrace. The house was sound-proof so she didn’t hear him until he entered through the front door.
Slowly, Lainey turned in the rounded ‘barstool’ at the island to look at him. Her lungs tightened. God, he was so beautiful to her that it hurt to look at him sometimes.
And the circus that was taking root in her chest, that intense, dizzying, heart wrenching, yet wonderful ache? She’d never felt anything like it. She knew she would never feel anything like it again, not for another male besides Kirov.
“Hi,” she said softly, her heartbeat stuttering. She was frozen in place, wondering what the next few moments would be like. Because she had a feeling that they were important moments…moments that would dictate their future.
“Luxiva,” he murmured, his expression unreadable except for the longing she saw in his eyes. He was tense, though, his muscles tight. He was standing on the threshold of the living room, facing her, but not moving towards her.
She held her breath, wondering, hoping.
Kirov held her eyes as he asked, “Will you come with me, Lani?”
“Where?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even and steady.
“Down the terrace,” he replied and her breath hitched. “I…I wish for you to see my sire. I need you to. It is long overdue.”
“Yes,” she said, pushing up from the island, swallowing hard. She noticed he’d said ’see’ instead of ‘meet.’ “Yes, of course.”
Relief, hope, nervousness, and happiness struck her all at once, making her knees tremble as she walked towards Kirov. When he reached for her hand, she felt her bottom lip quiver, but she swallowed whatever tears that were about to make an inconvenient appearance.
She squeezed his hand and let him pull her out the front door, the cool night air greeting her, threading through the navy blue dress she’d pulled on that morning. Before she knew it, they were stopped in front of the house, though Lainey couldn’t see inside, due to the mirrored glass.