The Alien's Claim (A SciFi Alien Warrior Romance) (Warriors of Luxiria Book 8)

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The Alien's Claim (A SciFi Alien Warrior Romance) (Warriors of Luxiria Book 8) Page 24

by Zoey Draven


  After he learned what Tavar had planned to do with the Luxirian crystals…

  Vaxa’an was shaking his head, frustrated. “You need to tell me everything.”

  “And I will, brother,” Jaxor said, that same frustration rising in him. “But the Mevirax have Erin.”

  “Rebax?”

  “They took her, just yesterday, from my base. That is why I need your help. To get her away from them. To keep her safe.”

  Vaxa’an was already walking over to the wall of Coms. “I will send for Kirov.”

  “And the others?”

  “There are already plans in place, Jaxor’an,” he said and Jaxor flinched at his proper name. It mocked him now, a symbol of his family, of his lineage, of his place in their world. “We were planning to storm the Mevirax’s base in seven spans. This will move up the timeline, but I am not certain how much. But tonight, with the exception of Kirov, I will allow the Ambassadors their night. Tomorrow, I will send for them.”

  “Seven spans?” Jaxor rasped. “Erin cannot wait that long!”

  Vaxa’an turned from the Coms after he’d presumably called for Kirov, studying Jaxor in the dim light. “I will ensure the planet is secure now. Kirov will double-check when he gets here to tonight. I will send warriors to scout near the Caves of the Pevrallix,” he paused, “if that is still where the Mevirax are.”

  “It is,” Jaxor said, distracted, unable to shake the feeling of dread and unease. Was Erin safe? Was she fed, cared for?

  His only comfort, if it could be called that, was that Tavar wouldn’t abuse her. He needed her for the Jetutians. As long as the Jetutians had not breached their atmosphere already, it would give them time to prepare.

  Vaxa’an turned back to him, looking at him with a blank gaze, as if preparing himself for what would come next.

  “Now tell me everything,” his brother ordered softly. “From the moment you left the Golden City, ten rotations ago, until the moment you stepped inside here, this span.”

  “Even though you will hate me more for it?” Jaxor asked, his tone quiet. He was exhausted, but this could not wait.

  “I could never hate you, brother,” Vaxa’an said, approaching him again.

  There he was. His brother. Inherently good, always better than Jaxor could hope to be. His love for him burned brightly in that moment, love Jaxor was not worthy of.

  “Even still,” Jaxor said, feeling his heartbeat drum in his chest, “you might, after you learn what I have done.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The Luxirian female returned later that night. Only this time, she came back alone, carrying yet another tray of food—though Erin hadn’t even touched the first one.

  The female watched her from behind the bars, easily balancing both a lantern and the tray, using her pregnant belly to support the latter. Her features were unreadable when she saw the food Erin hadn’t touched.

  “You are hungry, tev?” the female asked quietly, her voice hesitant in a way that made Erin think she was embarrassed.

  Erin was leaning against the wall of the cave, just underneath the sliver where she could see the light streaming through. She thought it was morning now, or perhaps afternoon. The only difference was that the cave had become somewhat warmer and the stench of her vomit had permeated the air.

  “What do you want with me?” Erin whispered.

  The female cast her gaze down. She set the tray outside the barred entrance and turned to leave. Erin watched the lantern’s light retreat, thought about Jaxor’s fear of darkness, until the memory of him physically hurt—and she tried to not think at all.

  A few moments later, the female returned, this time with a Luxirian male. Not Tavar. A guard, perhaps. He looked at Erin with intense curiosity mixed with mild distaste. He looked away after a couple minutes of studying her, as if he knew he shouldn’t be looking at her, but then his head turned back with a frown.

  He stood away from the cell, watched intently as the female unlocked the door and toed the tray of food across the floor, into her cell.

  “I’m not hungry,” Erin said.

  The female had brought a basin of water and a large grey cloth with her. Erin watched as she knelt on the dirt of her prison, watched as she began to clean the remnants of her vomit, wiping it away.

  Erin wanted to feel mild embarrassment that this female was cleaning up her filth. But she couldn’t bring herself to. She didn’t owe this female anything. She didn’t owe anyone anything.

  She just wanted to go home.

  Back to Earth. To see Jake and Ellora…even her mother. She couldn’t believe that, in moments of weakness with Jaxor, she’d believed that it was a possibility she’d choose the stay. Especially when he’d been planning to betray her all along.

  Hot tears burned her eyes, her chest aching. She thought she might vomit again, but forced herself to tilt her head back, to look at the sliver of light pouring in through the crack in the ceiling.

  “You eat,” the female said after the sounds of her scrubbing the floor had stopped.

  Erin looked back at her. Looked at her rounded belly. The female was still kneeling on the floor, the dirtied rag deposited in the basin. The guard was still standing watch at the base of the staircase. The lantern cast him mostly in shadows, but Erin felt his presence.

  “Where’s Tavar?”

  The female’s face had no reaction to her question. “Busy.”

  “Who are you?” she asked next.

  The female looked back at the guard. Then she pushed the tray of food towards Erin. “I will talk with you, but only while you eat.”

  “Why do you care if I eat or not?” Erin asked, even as she pulled the tray towards her. If she could ask questions of the female, she’d take the opportunity, even though she didn’t quite know what she wanted to know the most. “Won’t you get in trouble for speaking with me?” she asked, looking back at the guard.

  “He does not speak your language,” the female said, her expression still carefully blank.

  “And how is it that you do?”

  Erin took a chunk of the dried meat and began to eat. The female watched her and said, “I was one of the ones chosen to receive a language implant.”

  “From the Jetutians?” Erin asked, her voice lowering, thinking back to when Tavar had said they’d received ‘technology’ from them. She’d always been under the impression that the Mevirax had very little. “Is that when Jaxor got his language implant too?”

  The knowledge cut deeply. How easily he’d fooled her. How easily he’d lied to her.

  How he must’ve been laughing, even as he kissed her.

  The female inclined her head and Erin asked, “Why you?”

  The female’s gaze dropped back down to the tray and Erin bit off another mouthful of dried meat.

  “Because I am meant to care for you while you are here,” the female told her.

  “You were expecting more women,” Erin guessed. Instead, they only got one. Her.

  The female didn’t reply.

  Erin swallowed the meat. Her stomach growled and for the first time, she realized how hungry she really was. As if simply chewing had reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in…who knew how long.

  She reached for another piece and that one she washed down with water from the skin the female had brought.

  “Who are you?” Erin asked once she’d wiped her lips. They felt dry, scratchy across the back of her hand.

  “I am Kossira,” the female replied.

  “And how the hell are you pregnant, Kossira?” Erin asked, leveling her with a steady gaze.

  Kossira’s eyes flashed. For the first time, Erin recognized herself in this Luxirian female. A moment later, the carefully blank mask was back in place and she began to rise from the ground, using the bars of the dungeon to help lift her. Erin thought of the way she’d flinched at Tavar’s laugh.

  “Are you his mate?” Erin asked, looking up at her, her words quick and quiet. Kossira said nothing. She
reached down for the water basin instead. “I can help you.”

  That got her attention, but not the kind Erin wanted. Kossira’s gaze was like a blade. “You cannot even help yourself.”

  Erin’s words had been scrambling and desperate. She heard the unbending truth in Kossira’s tone. Of course she couldn’t help herself. When she’d first arrived, she’d believed with every part of her that Jaxor would come. That she would see him walking down those stairs, coming for her. Always.

  Her heart felt like a ragged, torn thing now. Like a moth with broken wings, fluttering helplessly in her chest. Tavar’s words kept coming back to her.

  You know nothing at all.

  The questions, the lies kept coming back to her, making her feel like she would suffocate underneath them. Why hadn’t Jaxor told her his brother was Vaxa’an, the Prime Leader of Luxiria? Why would he keep that from her?

  “Then will you help me?” Erin whispered.

  Kossira locked eyes with her. In a moment, Erin saw her mask slip, saw the fear in her gaze. Erin saw the answer in her eyes.

  No, because I cannot even help myself either.

  Erin’s shoulders sagged. Kossira placed a hand on her belly before shoving the basin of dirtied water out of the cell, taking up the lantern in her hand.

  “Eat,” Kossira said. “I will summon Tavar if you do not.”

  The words were meant to be a threat, but Erin couldn’t stop looking at her belly. Realization cut through her.

  “Was it the Jetutians?” Erin whispered.

  “Rebax?”

  Jaxor had said something about crystals. Luxirian crystals. He told her they’d traded the crystals for technology and weapons from the Jetutians…but what if they’d traded them for something else as well?

  “The crystals…” Erin said, trailing off, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. “They cured you. They cured you for the crystals.”

  Kossira was already walking through the door of her cell, shutting and locking it behind her. Erin got up on wobbling knees and approached the bars, trying to capture her attention.

  “Nix,” Kossira said quietly. “They did not. Not for the crystals.”

  “Then for…” Erin trailed off. She swallowed back the words, understanding what Kossira was not saying. “But…but you have not taken any others before. We are the first humans here.”

  “They had to prove that they could,” Kossira told her, her voice dropping.

  Erin took a step back from the bars, watched as Kossira cut the guard a look and said something in Luxirian—or a dialect of it, at least—and then they both turned towards the staircase, disappearing from view.

  Erin stood, stunned. She recognized that her own freedom—and the freedom of many others—had been sacrificed for…technology. That was why the Mevirax had given the Jetutians the crystals in the first place, wasn’t it? And now, Erin’s newfound freedom would once again be forfeit…so that children could be born.

  She didn’t know how to feel about that.

  It was a strange pulling inside her. A part of her wanted to scream, to make her fear and anger known.

  Her head swam, suddenly dizzy. She lay down on the floor and when she was finally able to sleep, she dreamed that she’d been buried in the earth like Jaxor’s crops. And when the earth was uncovered, a crying newborn child, covered in soil, had taken her place.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jaxor sat on the soft bed, his head hanging between his shackled wrists. His claws—his dulled claws, since he kept them short for Erin—were curled into his shorn hair.

  Vaxa’an had left him hours before. Jaxor couldn’t stop remembering the look on his face after he’d told him everything. From the beginning. He’d told him only the facts, however brutal they might have been. About seeking out the Mevirax, about Tavar, about the crystals. About leaving the Mevirax, and returning when Tavar sought him out with a proposition. He told him what he knew of the traitor in the command center—though he had no name—about how the male would make sure to be on duty whenever the Jetutians met with the Mevirax so he could shield their vessel’s signal as they entered the atmosphere.

  Finally, he told his brother about Kossira—Tavar’s mate. The only pregnant Luxirian female in existence on their planet. He told him about the deal Tavar had made with Jaxor—that he would bring human females to the Caves of Pevrallix and in exchange, Jaxor would be the one to confront Po’grak, that he would have his chance at revenge.

  “Why would Tavar betray Po’grak?” Vaxa’an had asked when Jaxor had first spoken of it. “It seems foolish.”

  That was when Jaxor told him of the cure for the virus. Kossira had told them that the Jetutians only gave her a small vial—black in color and thick—injected into her bloodstream. Nothing more. The realization that the cure for their females was so simple was…rocking.

  Vaxa’an had seemed dumbstruck by it as well. He’d shaken his head at first. “Privanax has worked tirelessly on a treatment. I cannot imagine that—”

  “The Jetutians have one. One that works.”

  “You have seen Kossira?” Vaxa’an had demanded, standing to pace.

  “Tev,” Jaxor said. “Before I left for the Golden City, before I came for Erin and Crystal, she looked as if she was just two lunar cycles away from giving birth.”

  “This vaccine…you were planning to steal it?” Vaxa’an had asked him, cutting him with a sharp look. “That is what you and Tavar plotted?”

  “Tavar believed that you would bend your power to him if he brought you the cure for our females,” Jaxor had said quietly. “He seeks power. He still hates the Jetutians, but he was willing to work with them for one purpose only.”

  “He wants to be Prime Leader,” Vaxa’an had said, his expression grim.

  “He would have demanded nothing less once he had the vaccine,” Jaxor had said. “He would have made you choose between your position and your people. And I know you would have relinquished the title to him.”

  “All while plotting to get it back,” Vaxa’an had finished for him. “And be assured, brother, I would get it back.”

  Jaxor had looked at his brother in that moment and realized that there were some aspects of Vaxa’an that Jaxor saw in himself. All of the bad of Vaxa’an, Jaxor saw in himself.

  “I was going to bring it to you,” Jaxor had admitted softly. “I was going to take the vaccine and bring it to you instead.”

  “Rebax?” Vaxa’an had asked quietly, stilling in his pacing.

  “Tavar is dangerous,” Jaxor told him. “In some ways, he is worse than the Jetutians and I would not allow him near the throne our family’s blood has built.”

  Vaxa’an had blown out a breath, but had asked, unflinchingly, “And what of the human females? In all of your plans, what of them?”

  Jaxor had looked away from his brother’s gaze then. “I knew that it was always a possibility I would not be able to get them back after I killed Po’grak. The exchange was to take place on their vessel. We were to bring the Luxirian female of our choosing along with the human females we had taken so they could administer the treatment. There were many variables, many things that could go wrong.” His gaze had connected with Vaxa’an’s then. He’d forced himself to look him straight in the eye and say, “My priority was the cure, not the human females.”

  “Not even Po’grak?” Vaxa’an had asked quietly.

  Jaxor’s revenge had weighed heavily in his mind for ten rotations. But as he was looking into his brother’s identical eyes, Jaxor felt relief when he said, “I would have chosen the vaccine,” because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, it was the truth.

  Vaxa’an seemed to realize the same thing in that moment. Vaxa’an had then asked, “And how does Erin fit into all this?”

  And that question was the one haunting him presently. Vaxa’an was gone now, left to speak with the council, and all Jaxor had was his thoughts, his regrets, and his dread.

  Jaxor couldn’t stand the soft cot he s
at on, so he rose, pacing the floor just as his brother had done during their conversation. His wrists were still shackled, but at least Jaxor wasn’t being kept in the dungeons below the command center. Instead, Vaxa’an had led him into one of the empty quarters—warrior barracks—and locked him in. The space was bare. There was a small washroom attached. But nothing that Jaxor could use to get the shackles off, which Vaxa’an had probably already thought of.

  I should get used to them, Jaxor thought. Because after this, it was very likely he would be wearing them until his death.

  Before Vaxa’an had left to meet with the council, he’d looked at Jaxor and said, “Even if we manage to get to Erin in time, even if we manage to take Tavar into our custody and kill Po’grak and get the vaccine…even if everything goes perfectly right,” Jaxor had closed his eyes, imagining that very situation, knowing that it was too good to be true, “you will still go to trial before the council and the elders. Even I will not be able to pardon you.”

  “Would you, though?” Jaxor had asked quietly. “Pardon me if you could?”

  “You are my brother,” Vaxa’an had said, his tone final. And then he’d left, but Jaxor still wasn’t quite sure what he’d meant.

  Did he mean that Jaxor, who shared the Prime Leader’s blood, was not above their laws? Or that Vaxa’an would undoubtedly do anything he could to save him?

  On top of it all, Jaxor kept trying to search for Erin. As if they had blood bonded, as if they had performed the fellixix. Jaxor cursed himself for it now. If they had performed their ravraxia, their mating ceremony, under the eyes of the Fates, he would be able to feel her. To sense her.

  But all he felt was a dark emptiness, as if she should have been in his mind, but had already gone.

  He punched the wall of his prison at the thought, wondering for the thousandth time whether he’d made the right decision in coming to the Golden City instead of straight to the Caves of the Pevrallix.

  Jaxor could’ve reached her by now. His brother, on the other hand, was chained by responsibilities, by plans. He had the lives of his warriors to think of, whereas Jaxor only had his own. And he would undoubtedly give it up, if it only meant Erin was safe.

 

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