by Zoey Draven
She told herself it was because she got a better view of Luxiria from the control console.
Truthfully, she stayed in his arms because he felt good.
And because she damn well wanted to.
EIGHT
Rixavox struggled.
Oh, how he struggled…
He’d completed Luxirian military training, which was regarded as the most grueling and intense of all the training traditions in their Quadrant. It was why Luxirian warriors were widely sought after during times of war and battle…because they were simply the best. And with good reason.
He’d endured extreme heat and extreme cold on strange, alien planets during his mercenary rotations. He’d endured whips and blade and burns and poisonous atmosphere and a torture session or two when he’d allowed himself to be captured by enemies for strategic purposes.
Yet, nothing was more unbearable than feeling his mate’s lush body pressed into him and not being able to do anything about it.
Rixavox knew he was a glutton for pleasure. Sex was one of his weaknesses, as it was for all Luxirians. They were a hedonistic race and they made no apologies about it.
They were also an honorable race. They believed in loyalty and honesty and truth. Deceit and lying took too much energy better spent on other pursuits.
He’d given Privanax his word as a Luxirian warrior that he would not have sex with his fated mate during her stay at Velraxa…until she was cured of her hellixaxava. It was perhaps the hardest oath he’d ever given, but he knew that her health was a priority.
And he would stick to his word, just as any Luxirian warrior would. But it would be one of the hardest things he’d ever do.
Hell, a part of him still doubted that he’d be able to keep his treacherous hands off her, mostly because he was constantly at war with his Instinct over the matter. He’d never felt this out of control over his own actions before.
“Are Luxirians always this quiet?”
His female’s sinful voice teased him, jarring him from his thoughts. His cock pulsed in his leg coverings, as it had been doing the entire span. He’d tried to keep his lower half from touching her, just in case she got frightened like she had the previous span at the command center. He didn’t want to misread a situation again with her, so he erred on the side of caution.
“Quiet?” he grunted, trying not to inhale her tantalizing scent. The time he spent in her company, which would be a lot until he returned her to the Golden City, would be a test of his control. He might as well get used to it.
“You don’t talk much,” she pointed out. “All Luxirians don’t seem to talk much actually.”
“I have not heard you speak much,” he said.
“Well, it might be a very one-sided conversation,” she said, a strange, almost teasing lilt in her voice.
Did humans males speak a lot? Did she find him…lacking in his way?
He frowned. “You wish to speak?”
“No, I was simply wondering…” she murmured, trailing off. “Never mind. Just ignore me.”
Her dismissal didn’t sit well with him. He felt like he was failing her in some way. When the silence stretched on, he found himself murmuring, “Are you hungry? Do you wish to eat?”
He felt her shake her head against the middle of his chest. “No, I’m not hungry.”
“How often must humans eat?” he wondered, trying to think back to when Kat would take her meals and how much she ate at each one. He hadn’t particularly taken notice before and he chastised himself for it now.
“Typically?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “It depends on the…human, I guess. Usually three times a day, sometimes more, sometimes less.”
That many meals? he wondered, tugging at one of his horns. A peculiar feeling of shame crept over him. He had no idea how to provide for her.
“Lately, I haven’t had much of an appetite,” she admitted slowly, her voice low, as if her words displeased her.
“You must eat,” Rixavox grunted, tapping the controls so that the hovercraft would pilot itself for a short while, allowing him to care for his female. “Come.”
“You say that a lot you know,” she grumbled, exhaling a long breath.
Rixavox turned her around in his arms so he could look down at her pleasing face. Her grey eyes stared up at him and despite the chill in the air, her cheeks were tinged pink. His Instinct started to rouse within him to its full power, but he tried his hardest to tamp it back down into place. He was in control, not his Instinct. He needed to remember that if he would get through his time spent with her.
Still, he found his hand lingering on her waist and he had no intention of removing it. Not yet, at least.
“What do I say?” he questioned, his voice lowering, his tone becoming as gravelly and rough as the black sand that covered most of his planet.
“Come,” she said softly, her eyes locked onto his. Her cheeks turned that alluring color again, deepening the pink that already brushed her skin.
His cock pulsed against his lower hip and he shifted uncomfortably, feeling her soft word dance over him like a touch. Torture. This was torture, he realized. He’d never known what true torture was.
If he was not a Luxirian warrior, not an Ambassador, or a war general, she would be on her hands and knees right there on the hovercraft. Her tunic would be bunched around her slim waist, or even bundled up and discarded on the cold, metal floor. He was be rutting her from behind like a crazed animal because that was what his Instinct fantasized about. She would be thrashing and moaning her pleasure underneath him and he would spend his seed deep within her womb, planting their offspring in her body.
Rixavox began to purr, the image almost too tempting, too right to resist. That heady lush smell that he’d thought was her arousal the span before rushed into his nostrils, making them flare.
Rixavox hissed and turned away, his muscles trembling from his need. Blindly, he searched for the pouch that Kat had handed his female before they departed, trying to clear that smell from his mind before he did something he couldn’t come back from.
He located the pouch and pulled the contents from within. Dried trixava meat mostly. He frowned, wishing his female could have something more fresh and appetizing, but he knew that these were travel rations and nothing more. Fresh meat wouldn’t keep well during their half-span journey.
He opened his mouth to say the very word she’d accused him of saying too much…so he snapped his jaw and decided on, “You should eat. It will strengthen you.”
His female was watching him, clutching the fur he’d wrapped around her small body. She was beautiful to him, but compared to Kat’s body, it became apparent that Sessela was undernourished, something he intended to rectify during her stay at Velraxa.
“Alright,” she murmured, approaching. She glanced back over her shoulder at the controls and asked, “It will be okay without you? It is safe?”
“Tev,” he murmured, inclining his head. His hand found her waist again, guiding her to the ground to a sitting position, unable to help himself from touching her. “I would do nothing to endanger you. You are safe with me.”
Her lips parted slightly and she cast her gaze down at the dried meat he’d laid out for her.
“For some reason, I believe that,” she said, her voice barely a whisper over the wind.
Sessela’s words pleased him and his chest puffed out slightly, his spine straightening.
He sank down next to her, his back against the sharp edge of the hovercraft, trying to block at least some of the wind from cutting her. Rixavox nudged her closer until her thigh was touching his, testing his own self-control.
He held a long strip of dried trixava before her lips and her gaze flickered to it before eyeing him.
She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you hungry? You should eat this.”
A part of him felt insulted. As if any Luxirian would eat before his mate was satisfied. He almost snorted, the idea was so ridiculous to him.
She does not know the ways of our people, he reminded himself.
Slowly, he murmured, “Nix. You eat this. You eat first. Always.”
Before she could say anything else, he tore off a small, bite-sized piece of trixava and pressed it softly to her lips. Slowly, while watching him, Sessela parted her mouth and Rixavox’s pupils dilated at the sight of her pink, slick tongue.
He swallowed his groan as she ate the piece. Rapt, he watched her delicate jaw flex as she chewed.
Swiftly, he tore off another piece and this time, Sessela seemed more shy as he tried to coax her into eating again.
“I can feed myself,” she murmured. “You don’t have to—”
“I wish to,” he said, voice thick. “It…pleases me.”
Sessela’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as they looked at each other. A purr started rumbling in his chest when she slowly leaned forward and accepted the second piece of food.
They continued like this until half of the dried meat was gone and she was beginning to protest that she was full. Only then did Rixavox finish off their rations.
When she shivered underneath the fur, Rixavox looked over the side of the hovercraft but saw they were only in the Nevrilla province. He couldn’t activate the cold shield quite yet, so instead, he reached for her and tucked her against his body. She gave a quiet, surprised squeak when her back made contact with his chest but Rixavox couldn’t help but think that she fit perfectly between his thighs. He brought his knees up to help shield her sides from the cold and wrapped his arms just below her breasts, bringing her even closer.
He felt her blow out a long breath but eventually, her tense muscles relaxed against him as heat seeped into her. A constant purr was rumbling from his throat but Rixavox didn’t care to try to keep silent. She didn’t seem to mind it.
“It is very cold where I live,” he found himself murmuring down to her. “I hope Privanax was not wrong about the climate for your body. But I do have many furs to keep you warm.”
Even as a slight shiver racked her body, she replied, “It is better being cold than being hot.”
He chortled and the noise shocked him. He didn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. “Many Luxirians would disagree with you. We like the heat.”
“Then why do you live in such a cold place?” she questioned. “Wouldn’t you rather be back in that sweltering city?”
He didn’t quite understand what ‘sweltering’ meant, but he could understand her meaning.
“It is my duty,” he said, trying not to let his hardened cock touch her lower back. It was difficult, however, given their position. He couldn’t control his body’s reaction around her. “I oversee the Velraxa outpost. Its inhabitants are my responsibility and I have learned to like the cold. The Golden City is too warm for my blood now. I doubt I could ever live there permanently again.”
“Are there many Luxirians that live there? In…Velraxa?”
“Tev. Not as many as the Golden City. But many outposts have a significant population.”
“There are more outposts, you mean? Like mini cities, spread across the planet?”
“Mini cities?” he questioned, his language implant drawing a blank. “There are six other outposts. Each has a specific purpose. Velraxa is mostly comprised of hunters. We hunt the larger game in the northern lands and disperse it around Luxiria. Another outpost, to the west, mines crystals. We use it for fuel to power our vessels and these hovercrafts. Every outpost contributes in some way.”
“And who lives all the way out here?” she asked, nudging her head to the expanse beyond the hovercraft.
“In Nevrilla? No Luxirian lives here. Most of our planet is uninhabited. These are the wild lands.”
“That’s kind of scary,” she commented, tilting her head to look back at him. His eyes caught on her soft lips and he watched as her tongue darted out to wet them. Rixavox inhaled sharply, but tried to focus on her words as a distraction. “I mean, what if your hovercraft ran out of fuel? Or broke down? What would you do?”
He shrugged. “Warriors are skilled in survival. I would reach Velraxa eventually.”
A slight chuckle sounded from her throat and Rixavox tensed, feeling it wash over him like a balm. Next to the sound of his female’s voice, it was the second most pleasing sound he’d ever heard in his entire life span. His purr intensified.
She was shaking her head when her laugh ended. “I have a feeling you have an answer for everything.”
“I do,” he said, edging on arrogance. “I am a war general and an Ambassador of Luxiria. My duty is to have the answer for everything.”
She turned slightly in his arms and it pleased him that she no longer seemed shy about being there.
“That must get tiring,” she murmured softly.
Rixavox blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. Yes, he wanted to say, it is tiring.
But he didn’t. He’d never told any living soul that before. Instead, he said carefully, “It is an honor to serve Luxiria in this way.”
His sire had been a crystal miner. Rixavox had decided early on that he had wanted to be a warrior, to complete the training, which his sire had not. Many on his outpost, including his own family unit, knew of his ambitions, but could never have guessed how successful he would be. Ambassadors, even war generals, usually came from long lines of warrior families. There was a hierarchy. And yet, Rixavox, who came from the miner outpost, whose own father had dropped out of warrior training, had ascended the ranks quickly.
His own brother had almost ruined everything for him, however. When news of his crime and his exile spread, many questioned whether Rixavox should remain in the position. The elders had demanded that the Prime Leader strip him of his rank, thinking him tainted. But Vaxa’an had held strong, even though Rixavox had told him he would resign.
And every span, Rixavox tried to prove to Luxiria that he deserved his position. That was why he never showed weakness, never showed how exhausting it could be, constantly worrying, constantly planning, constantly traveling.
For once, he wanted to be still. He just wanted peace.
“Rest,” he finally murmured, feeling her hair tickle underneath his jaw. “We still have a long way to travel.”
And as he looked down at the human female cradled in his arms, feeling her weight and warmth against him, he knew he had finally found what he had been secretly searching for.
NINE
Cecelia woke abruptly when Rixavox hoisted her up in his arms.
Her throat felt scratchy and her eyes stung when she blinked them open. She saw that it was dark outside, even though she’d assumed they would be arriving at their destination around the middle of the afternoon. Overhead, she saw black clouds, fogging the sky. For a moment, she thought something was wrong. Why was it so dark?
But then she heard Rixavox murmur down to her, “We have arrived at Velraxa, female. I did not mean to wake you.”
Cecelia tried to shake the fog that wrapped around her sleepy brain, but found that her body relaxed even more at Rixavox’s voice. For once, she didn’t question why she reacted this way with him. She didn’t know why his presence was a comfort, like a warm blanket on a snowy winter day. Instead, she accepted it, if only for a little while. She was just too tired to fight it.
She perceived him walking. She felt the vibration of his strong stride in her back. She was cradled in his arms and she let herself rest her forehead against his chest.
It was cold, she realized belatedly, but his body was warm. He’d draped a heavy fur over her and she snuggled more deeply inside, letting her eyes flutter closed. She lolled in and out of sleep, only half awake, dreaming for brief stretches before resurfacing.
Suddenly, she heard a creak, like a heavy oak door being opened on rusty hinges. When she opened her eyes, she saw it wasn’t an oak door, but a stone one. Rixavox shouldered it open and then shoved it closed when they stepped across the threshold.
It was dark, wherever they were
. The air felt still, like it had been waiting. Rixavox tinkered with something in the entryway and then a gentle golden glow illuminated the room. Cecelia squinted against the light, but saw that they were in a house. Rixavox’s house?
It must be, she decided, eyelids lowering again. The house smelled like him and she couldn’t stop herself from taking a deep lungful of air. It smelled so wonderful that it made her dizzy.
He began walking again. While it was still chilly inside the house, it was much, much warmer than the outside.
“Is this where you live?” she found herself whispering, trapped once again between sleep and reality.
“Tev,” was the response she received.
“Do you live here alone?”
A slight pause, before he said, “Tev.”
“I figured,” she murmured back.
“Why?” he asked softly, more softly than she’d ever heard his voice.
“Because it’s much too quiet.”
He didn’t say anything to that and she slipped back under for a brief moment. She woke again when Rixavox lowered her body onto a comfortable fur-lined pallet on the floor of what she could only assume was a bedroom. And, strangely enough, once again, she didn’t feel threatened. She felt it in her chest that he wouldn’t do anything to her. It was maddening, but she physically felt the truth of it. An odd sensation…
“Frixavir,” he said down to her, his voice gruffer now. She felt his broad, calloused palm stroke her forehead once. “Rest, Sessela,” he translated.
As if Rixavox controlled her body, she did as he commanded.
* * *
Rixavox sat on the edge of his sleeping platform, his knees tucked against his chest, watching his luxiva, his fated mate, sleep. Nothing had ever felt more right. Nothing had ever felt so natural.
Yet, he couldn’t touch her. Not in the way he wanted. She would be his ward only, to protect and to heal, until she was returned safely to the Golden City. Here, she slept on his sleeping platform, her dark hair against the soft furs of beasts he’d hunted himself, her scent mingling with his own, his Instinct on the verge of madness, and he could only watch from a distance.
