TWO
Lihvan’s Instinct roared to life, beating against his chest as he cradled the female in his arms. He did his best to ignore it. Now was not the time or the place for his Instinct to finally recognize his fated mate…and to demand that he make her his. Fully.
The Krevorags knew that they were there. The alarm had been raised, but Lihvan wondered whether the cowardly species would decide to attack Luxirian warriors or not. Lihvan’s race was infamous for their skills in combat and battle. The Krevorags knew they would face heavy losses if they engaged.
Still, Lihvan wanted blood. When he saw the manner in which the human females were being kept, caged like animals, huddled and scared, something in him had snapped.
He swallowed, tightening his arms around the small female in his arms, with her golden hair and brown eyes. The Krevorag that had held her down the moment he came into the room…that dishonorable alien had been about to do something unspeakable. The ultimate sin in the eyes of a Luxirian was taking a female by force. Lihvan wished he had made the Krevorag suffer while he met his death.
It made him wonder what other unspeakable things had been done to their captive females. He knew then that they had taken the right course of action, after they had deliberated welcoming war with the Krevorags and their allies. The leader of his race, Vaxa’an, had tasked Lihvan with infiltrating the Pit, the Krevorags’ fighting ring where the prize was a pleasure mate, human or otherwise. Vaxa’an had won his own female, his fated mate, from the Pit, but she’d made him see how wrong the institution truly was.
Lihvan agreed. And he was sent there, to rescue what remained of the females and to offer them safety and protection until the Luxirians could send them back to Earth, back to their homes.
Looking down at the female that had roused his Instinct, he realized that it was now much more complicated. His body tightened with the strongest need for her. He felt the strangest compulsion to mark her as his own, to mate her body and fill her with his seed so that no other male would come near her. Madness. He’d always prided himself on his control, on his ability to look past emotion and towards logic.
He felt a growl build in his chest. The need for her almost brought him to his knees, a clawing sensation that robbed his breath and made him tremble.
Vikan appeared next to him, the gruff Luxirian warrior that many stayed away from. His friend looked at the human female cradled in his arms and then said, “We must hurry. The Krevorags are beginning to assemble for an attack.”
Lihvan grunted. He was almost mildly impressed. He thought that the Krevorags would look the other way when Luxirians were involved.
With a curt nod, he quickened his pace. None of the warriors would be opposed to a fight. Many were itching for one after the three span journey it took to reach the Pit, but now they had vulnerable females to protect.
“We depart immediately,” Lihvan said, his eyes catching on their vessel. “Are the females already on board?”
“Yes,” Vikan replied. “We have already disabled the Krevorags’ vessels so they will not be able to pursue us. Perhaps it will deter them from capturing more females for a few spans.”
The thought was sobering. Their rescue mission would only benefit the females currently in the Pit, not the ones that had already been claimed or the ones that would come afterwards.
Lihvan looked down at the female in his arms and felt a stirring in his chest. He swallowed hard and forced himself to look away. It would do him no good if he got too attached to her. She would be leaving for her own planet soon, no matter what his Instinct desired.
Already he felt his Instinct rebel at the thought of letting her go. Lihvan gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, the deep scar down his face pulling in discomfort.
After navigating the twisting, dark hallways of the Pit’s underground tunnels, they finally reached their vessel and Lihvan wasted no time in boarding. To Vikan, he said, “Get us off the surface.”
Vikan nodded, his eyes straying to the female in his arms once again. It looked as if she were sleeping, or perhaps she had passed out from shock or exhaustion or both. Either way, it was best that she was resting.
“We put the others in the grand quarters. They will be safe there until we reach Luxiria.”
He nodded and left Vikan to his duties. Lihvan would be needed in the command center shortly, but he wanted to make sure that the female was safely delivered with the rest of the humans.
So why did he find his feet carrying him to his own quarters?
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his door, in the opposite direction of the grand quarters. The female roused against his chest as the door whooshed open and Lihvan stepped inside, hearing the door secure itself behind him.
His quarters were nothing special. Not even his dwellings on Luxiria, both in the Golden City and on the outpost he oversaw, were anything special. It was where he slept. That was all. No sentimental trinkets or plush furs to relax against. When his sire had passed from this life, Lihvan had rid himself of everything that reminded him of that time. It was better not to remember the constant disappointment, the constant shame.
Thinking of the female in his arms, he wondered what she would think of his sparse dwellings. Would she like the soft, colorful things that females of his race seemed to favor? He thought of her sleeping on his firm sleeping platform, devoid of any pleasurable comforts, and he cringed.
No, he thought, shaking himself. He could not think that way. She would be gone from his life soon, gone as quickly as she’d appeared.
When he glanced back down at her, preparing to set her on the sleeping platform, he found her eyes, a deep brown, fastened on him, alert and awake. He had learned to recognize human emotions from Kate, Vaxa’an’s human mate. And what he recognized in the female’s features was wariness.
Then her eyes widened and she thrashed against him, trying to push at his shoulders, when she realized he was lowering her to the sleeping platform.
“Female—” he grunted, taking a blow to the hardened muscles of his stomach. She had a good punch to her, which pleased him to no end, even though his abdomen now ached.
“I will not have sex with you! Get away from me!” she screeched in his ear. Lihvan reared back and she tumbled onto the sleeping platform in a heap of naked limbs. His ears rang from the sheer volume of her voice but he winced when her words penetrated.
Slowly, he backed away from her, even though his Instinct demanded that he be near. Just the thought that she assumed he would…it brought bile to the back of his throat.
“Female,” he said, his voice gruff. “No Luxirian will ever touch you in that way, not without invitation. It is dishonorable. I only intended for you to rest.”
She had curled into herself, a small ball of blonde hair and pale flesh. Lihvan crossed to his drawer and when it swung out, he pulled a fresh tunic from within, knowing that it would swamp her body. A primal part of him ached to see his clothing on her. At least his scent would mark her in some way. With slow steps, he laid the tunic on the sleeping platform, in front of her, and then backed away.
Gesturing to the door on the left wall of the quarters, he inclined his head and murmured, “You may wash there if you wish, in privacy. I must leave you now, but I will have your meal delivered. Then you should rest.”
She was still staring at him, but the lines of her body had relaxed a little, or perhaps Lihvan was imagining it. He wished he could stay with her, if not only to be in her presence since she wouldn’t be in his life for very long. But he figured that was the last thing that she wanted…especially after what he had walked into back on the Pit.
Lihvan’s fist clenched, anger and disgust churning his belly, and he turned to face the door. It opened but before it closed, he found himself saying quietly, “Tell me your name, female.”
She swallowed, the elegant lines of her throat shifting. Lihvan was transfixed by the delicate bones near her neck. He thought them…lovely. And that was a word he had never even considered to be in his vocabulary.
Lihvan was tempted to turn away when he felt her gaze trace the deep scar that ran down his cheek. Females had always shied away from him or looked upon him with pity whenever they saw it. Why would this female be any different?
She surprised him. In a quieter voice that slid over him like the finest Luxirian brew, she said, “My name is Rebecca. But everyone just calls me Beks.”
Beks.
Lihvan was tempted to say it, but he stopped himself. With a curt nod, he stepped into the hallway outside his quarters.
“Wait,” she said, suddenly. He paused just beyond the threshold, but didn’t look at her. “What is…what is your name?”
This is a foolish game, he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. Why had he brought her into his quarters? He should’ve put her in with the other females.
In a colder tone than he intended, he said, “My name does not matter, female.”
Then, he closed the door.
Fates…why? Why had he been gifted with a female he could never claim? She was not only a compatible Breeding partner, judging from his Instinct’s reaction to her, but he sensed that there was something deeper. She was…his fated mate. But that was surely impossible, wasn’t it? What were the chances that the first human female he’d set eyes on after Kate, Vaxa’an’s mate, would be his own luxiva?
Despair made him reach out a hand to steady himself on the wall of the hallway. Everything he had ever wanted—a mate, a family, an escape from the crippling loneliness that had been plaguing him the past few rotations—was dangling right in front of him…and yet, he couldn’t have it. He couldn’t have her.
Not that she would even want him anyway.
With a growl, he pushed away from the wall and made his way to the command center. He had other pressing problems, one of them being getting every occupant on the vessel back to Luxiria safely. After he accomplished the mission Vaxa’an, his close friend and the Prime Leader of his species, tasked to him, perhaps then he could figure out what to do next.
“Beks,” he said, testing the name on his tongue.
Her name tasted of silk and the light of Luxiria’s morning suns.