by Zoey Draven
He would be punished for his crimes, along with the Mevirax. It might mean death, it might mean exile, but he would sacrifice whatever he needed to to keep his female safe and out of harm’s way.
Without another moment’s hesitation, he began the long journey to the Golden City.
The mark of Oxandri seemed to burn on his chest, where Laccara had pressed the blade to his flesh.
Sacrifice. Perhaps this was what Oxandri had wanted all along.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Erin woke to darkness, which she knew wasn’t right. Jaxor always had a lantern lit in the cave as they slept because he couldn’t stand the darkness.
Then she remembered and she lay perfectly still, blinking, willing her eyes to adjust to the almost nonexistent light.
Her temple was throbbing, a headache blooming behind her right eye. Her shoulder was sore, though when she chanced to move, she saw it was in a sling. It had been popped back into place, thankfully while she’d been knocked out.
Wherever she was, it was humid. Her skin was sticky with it. She heard the distant sound of rushing water. A waterfall or a river? And she smelled wet stone—like rain on concrete after a storm. Wet stone and fragrant earth.
She couldn’t pretend to be asleep forever and as her eyes slowly adjusted, she saw a sliver of light to the left, out of the corner of her vision. Daylight. Or moonlight. It was filtering in through a crack in the stone.
When she didn’t sense any movement, slowly, she pushed up from the ground. It was dirt, she realized. Packed earth. So dark it looked black. But the walls were stone. Was she in another cave?
Blinking in the darkness, she saw she was alone. But she was caged. Trapped. Mercifully, it wasn’t like the cage at the Pit, small and cramped. Instead, she was sitting in a cave the size of the one in Jaxor’s base and black metal bars enclosed the entrance.
It was a dungeon.
Erin was thirsty, her throat parched, and she felt slightly nauseous from the intense headache. She tried to think back. Back to Jaxor’s base. The male had caught her—she’d screamed out Jaxor’s name, hadn’t she?—and then she didn’t remember anything else. He’d hit her to knock her out, she realized. Hard enough for the pain to linger.
Panic was beginning to make her heartbeat pound in her chest, but she took a long, deep inhale through her nostrils. Panic would get her nowhere. She needed to remember the calm she’d felt stitching up her mother, or putting the twins to sleep, though they’d been hungry and wailing.
It wasn’t long before she heard noise, footsteps on stairs. Stone stairs. She couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from because everything seemed to echo around her. Two sets of them?
Light came with the footsteps, a blue glow. She saw two figures emerging, shadows at first, but then they came into view. The blue light blinded her for a moment and she shielded her gaze, her eyes watering.
After her eyes adjusted, she heard a latch rising, a door opening. Slowly, she rose to her feet, reaching out a hand to help steady her on her wobbly legs.
A male was entering her prison cell. Not one she recognized, and there was something about him that put her on edge. His black hair was long, plaited in three sections, some of the strands laced with blue glass beads. He looked to be around Jaxor’s age, in his prime but old in the eyes. There was a small scar across his forehead, one that looked like a crescent moon.
“What do you want with me?” she asked, speaking first, hoping that he spoke English. Was this the Mevirax leader? What had Jaxor said his name was?
Tavar, she remembered.
He simply cocked his head to the side, studying her. She didn’t want to take her eyes off him, but she cut a quick look to the second figure. A female this time.
But what shocked her the most was that she was pregnant.
Erin’s breath hitched, staring down at the rounding of her belly before meeting her eyes. Erin had never seen a Luxirian female before. Only males. She was smaller than the male she assumed was Tavar, but her build was strong. Her hair was loose and long. Her large breasts were bound in brown, cracked leather, leaving her shoulders and growing stomach bare. A long skirt, also of leather, brushed the tops of her bare feet.
She was carrying a tray with a small handful of dried meat, something that looked like bread, only it was grey, and a skin of what she hoped was water.
At the male’s nod, the female entered the cell and deposited the tray within the doorway before backing out to safety. Was she afraid of Erin? That couldn’t possibly be right. Perhaps she feared for the child, thought that Erin would attack her.
Swallowing, Erin’s eyes returned to the male.
“Are you Tavar?” she asked, trying to keep her voice strong and even.
His eyes narrowed. He seemed more annoyed than surprised that she knew his name, as if a human like her shouldn’t dare to speak it.
“What do you want with me?” she asked again, briefly looking back at the female in the darkness.
Tavar was holding the lantern of blue light and it cast shadows over his skin, making him seem even more intimidating. It made her nervous, seeing the mild disgust on his face.
He still didn’t answer.
“Jaxor will come for me,” she told him, her façade beginning to crack with her fear.
His smile was sinister, mocking even.
“How do you think you are here, female?” he asked instead, his accented English soft, though it also seemed to cut like a blade. “Jaxor gave you over to us. As he promised he would.”
Her mind swam a little. She remembered the male who’d come to kidnap her from the base had said something similar.
She dismissed Tavar’s words immediately.
Her jaw clenched, her back straightening. “You’re wrong.”
Tavar simply cocked his head to the side, that smile growing. “I am wrong? Yet, you are here. In my keep.”
Erin was still shaking her head in denial, though the motion coupled with her headache made her want to vomit. Bile was rising in her throat. “No. He wouldn’t. I’m his mate. And he will come for me.”
Tavar blinked, like the knowledge that she was his mate didn’t surprise him. “What exactly did he tell you?”
His tone implied that her steadfastness amused him. She bit her tongue, refusing to give in to his taunts. She had to stop herself from biting too hard, or else she might draw blood.
“We made our agreement when we first heard of your existence on this planet,” Tavar said, his tone changing, hardening. “He would bring whatever human females he could find in the Golden City to us. He told us that there was another, but that the Luxirian Ambassador got to her first.”
They knew about Crystal?
Then she remembered. He’d met with the Mevirax near the base. But why had he told them about Crystal? And Cruxan? What purpose would that serve? Unless…there was an inkling of truth to what Tavar was telling her.
A sick feeling spread in her gut, one that had nothing to do with her pounding headache.
Still, she shook her head.
“He will not come for you, female,” Tavar said. “At least not to rescue you, as you desperately hope. When he comes, it will be to collect on my side of the bargain.”
“And what is that?” she hissed out, glaring at the Mevirax leader, her frustration and confusion overriding her fear.
His smile returned. “Po’grak. What else?”
Po’grak?
What the hell was going on? What was Tavar even talking about?
“Oh, he did not tell you that part?” Tavar asked. “About his hatred for the Jetutian that killed his mother?”
What?
“Jetutian,” she whispered, fear beginning to chill her once more. They were in league with the Krevorags, the ones that had abducted her from Earth. They ran the Pit with them, keeping a steady supply of females from across the universe. Only, human females specifically seemed to be a rare and highly sought after commodity during her time the
re.
She was going to be sick.
“No,” she said softly. “H-he wouldn’t.”
“Regardless,” Tavar continued, that smile dropping, “Po’grak will be here in a few spans to collect you. If Jaxor shows—”
“No, you were going to ransom us!” she cried out, desperation coloring her tone. Now she couldn’t keep the panic down. “You were going to ransom us to the Prime Leader in exchange for technology.”
That was what Jaxor told her, right? The Jetutians weren’t coming for her. She would be back in the Golden City soon, despite her capture.
Tavar laughed, the sound booming off the cave walls, making her flinch. Out of the corner of her eye, even the Luxirian female seemed to flinch, but when Erin cut her a glance, her expression was unreadable.
“The Jetutians supply us with technology. What use would we have for his brother’s?”
Erin froze, her stomach dropping.
“What?” she whispered.
Tavar’s laugh faded, though he still seemed amused by her. Erin watched as he walked back out of the cell, taking the blue light with him.
“Wait!” she pleaded, walking up to the bars, locking eyes with him through them. “What do you mean, his brother’s?”
Tavar studied her. She wanted to smack the expression right off his face, but her shock froze her limbs. “Are you even certain you are his mate?” Tavar asked, brows raised. “Or was that just another lie he told you? I underestimated him. I should have made him a member of my council when I had the chance, even with the royal blood coursing through his veins, the same blood that doomed us from the beginning.”
Erin couldn’t breathe. The darkness was creeping in from around the cave walls, threatening to swallow her whole.
“Jaxor is Vaxa’an’s brother?” she whispered. “His father was…”
“You know nothing at all,” Tavar told her, looking like he actually pitied her. That look made her skin crawl. “And you still question how you came to be in my possession? You remain loyal to a proven liar, a liar who turned his back on his own blood, and not only betrayed him, but betrayed you?”
The bile was rising. And rising. Her mouth flooded with saliva and then she dropped to her knees and vomited what little food remained in her stomach. The acid made her throat burn.
Tears welled in her vision and she heard their footsteps retreat, the only source of light going with it, leaving her in darkness. She heard Tavar’s laugh echo and a sob crawled up her throat, her chest aching with the memory of his words.
Jaxor.
As she cried, as fear and sorrow and heartbreak curled inside her, making a home, Erin wondered…had she known him at all?
Or had everything just been a lie?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jaxor was dragged into the command center of the Golden City with heavy chains draping his wrists. The two guards flanking him wore cold expressions, but Jaxor paid them no mind.
The moment he’d landed outside, on the black sand, and requested to speak with his brother, they had secured him, as he knew they would. They had ensured he carried no weapons. They knew who he was—of course they did. One of the warriors he even recognized. They’d gone through training together.
He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he could sense Erin’s distance like it was a tangible thing. He was frustrated because it had taken longer to reach the Golden City than expected and it was by sheer luck and perhaps the Fates’ blessing that he had made it at all, considering he’d run low on fuel just as he’d begun to cross the Black Desert. He’d skidded in on fumes and a moment later, he was in chains.
Jaxor could hardly comprehend that he was about to see his blood brother, that he would speak with him for the first time in over ten rotations. He didn’t know what to feel. All he felt was the pressing need to reach Erin before…before it was too late.
They made the short walk to the war room, where Vaxa’an often met with the council and his Ambassadors.
But when the doors opened and his brother looked up from the Coms, Vaxa’an was alone.
His brother stood from behind the circular table and they stared at one another for several long moments. Jaxor’s throat closed up and he had the strongest urge to look away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.
“Leave us,” Vaxa’an finally ordered the warriors.
The warriors hesitated, obviously loathe to leave their Prime Leader alone with a known traitor, even if that traitor was his brother.
“Now,” Vaxa’an clipped and the guards inclined their heads and left, pulling the two heavy doors closed behind them. No doubt they would alert the council and perhaps the Ambassadors that Jaxor had returned to the Golden City, that he was in the Prime Leader’s custody.
Jaxor had forgotten how large the war room was. Cavernous, even. Coms lined the walls, but the ceiling was so high that Jaxor couldn’t even see where it ended. The light would not reach there. And in that massive space, he thought that his brother would seem small, but he did not. He had become the great leader that their sire had always known he would be.
Jaxor had the stray thought that they were strangers to one another now. They might as well be.
Vaxa’an’s swallow was audible in the thick silence as he rounded the circular table, an unforgiving slab of Luxirian steel.
“A part of me,” Vaxa’an said, “believed that I would never lay eyes on you again, brother.”
Jaxor’s chest heaved with unnamed emotion and a thousand thoughts flooded his mind as he studied Vaxa’an’s face. Standing before him in chains was not how he envisioned this reunion, but it was no less than he deserved.
Erin.
“I know I have no right to ask it,” Jaxor started, his voice low as he connected his gaze with his brother’s. Twin eyes. They had always had the exact same eyes. The shade of their mother’s. Many had commented on it when they’d been younger. “But I am in need of your help.”
Vaxa’an looked at him. Something flashed in his gaze. Anger. Fury.
“This is what you have finally returned home for?” his brother asked. “So I can be of use to you?”
“I have not returned home,” Jaxor said quietly. “I came here, though I know the consequences of returning, to seek your help.”
Vaxa’an’s hands shot out so quickly that Jaxor thought his brother would strike him. But instead, he placed his hands on the sides of his neck, touching his flesh for the first time, and Jaxor felt the agony in his brother. Blood was strong. It was why fated mates performed a blood bond, the fellixix. Siblings shared blood and so they already shared the bond. They’d been connected all their lives, since the moment Jaxor was born. He could feel his brother’s soul, felt it taken up by another—his human mate—just as certainly as Vaxa’an felt Jaxor’s soul consumed by another, by Erin.
Touch helped connect them and Vaxa’an’s nostrils flared with the realization that Jaxor, too, had a mate. Jaxor brought his chained wrists up, clasped his hands on his brother’s forearm, felt the heat of him and the pulsing of his heart.
“I need your help,” Jaxor pleaded. “She is in danger.”
“What have you done?” Vaxa’an asked him, his pupils wide.
“More than she will forgive me for,” Jaxor said, inhaling the same air between them. “But I will spend the rest of my lifespan making it up to her. However short that life may be,” he added softly, knowing that his execution was very probable now that he had returned.
Vaxa’an seemed to realize this too and he released Jaxor, but didn’t step away.
“There is much you are not telling me,” Vaxa’an accused softly.
“I will tell you everything you wish to know,” Jaxor replied, “but first know that the Jetutians have breached our atmosphere on multiple occasions over the last ten rotations.”
Vaxa’an shook his head. “Not possible. We would have—”
“There is one male I know of that has been coordinating with the Mevirax. A male stationed here
at the command center. There may be more, but I have no way of knowing.”
“Rebax?” Vaxa’an asked softly, absorbing his words. “You are telling me that the Jetutians have breached our planet’s surface with the aid of a Luxirian warrior. One of my warriors?”
“Tev,” Jaxor said. “Bring Kirov here. Have him scan the surface manually. That is the first step.”
“Kirov is not here. None of the Ambassadors are. Cruxan just…” Vaxa’an trailed off. “The Lunar Celebration is tonight.”
Vrax.
Which meant the Ambassadors were at their respective outposts.
Jaxor swallowed this news down and said, “You must summon him. Immediately.”
“Why?”
“I fear that the Jetutians will come. Soon. If they are not here already.”
Vaxa’an looked at him like a stranger. His brother had remained unchanged—at least physically—but Jaxor knew that he was different. Jaxor felt the long rotations like they were lashes against his back, felt them stretch tight.
“Do you believe me?” Jaxor asked, looking him straight in the eyes. Through their blood connection, he felt Vaxa’an’s unease.
“I do,” his brother said, without hesitation. Relief made Jaxor close his eyes. “But I worry what I will think when you tell me everything else.”
Jaxor nodded. “First, ensure Luxiria is secure. Only allow those you trust in the command center until Kirov arrives.”
“Why come to me now with this information?” Vaxa’an asked. Jaxor sensed his rage then. A tangible thing between them. “You have known this entire time. You have put countless at risk in not telling me. Why?”
Jaxor felt the metal biting into his wrists. He knew the answer but he didn’t want to say it. He knew it wouldn’t make a drop of difference in his brother’s eyes.
“The Jetutians have only ever come to speak with the Mevirax,” Jaxor told Vaxa’an. “Three times that I know of.”
“Were you there during these meetings?” Vaxa’an asked him.
“Nix,” Jaxor said. “They happened after I had already broken away from the Mevirax.”