The Alien’s Claim by Zoey Draven

Chapter Fifteen

Erin barely suppressed a groan when her eyes flickered open the next morning. At least she thought it was morning. The light was low, but at least the rain had stopped.

It was becoming a habit…waking up in that cave with the memory of bad decisions making her want to curl up in a ball. Only that morning, she had a nasty hangover to go hand-in-hand with her regret.

She blew out a rough breath and tilted her head back, searching for Jaxor. He was still sleeping, for once, not far away, close to the entrance. He’d built a fire last night when it got too chilly in the cave, shortly after Erin had stitched up his wounds a second time. She refused to dwell on why she’d had to.

It happened, there’s nothing I can do to change it, she told herself instead. Best to move on.

She felt nauseous, but surprisingly well-rested. Her body was still humming after that orgasm last night, but her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her limbs felt unsteady.

Erin pushed up from her position, glancing around the cave. It was a mess. Jaxor’s hair littered the floor, two empty bottles of that horrendous alcohol among the dark, silky strands. After Erin had stitched Jaxor up, he’d gone all moody and quiet, and had fished out a second bottle from one of the chests. Erin didn’t remember if she’d watched him finish it. She’d probably passed out before then.

Blood was streaked on the floors and on the furs. There was even some on her own legs—from rolling in it during the night?—in addition to Jaxor’s dried seed on her tunic.

“Damn,” she muttered, raking a hand through her tangled hair. She didn’t know how she felt about what happened last night. Strangely, she thought she’d be filled with more mortification and regret. Instead, she only felt a dull pang of reluctant acceptance. Erin was a firm believer in not dwelling on things she couldn’t change.

And last night?

She couldn’t change it.

A part of her didn’t even want to, if she’d had the choice. Because she remembered how it had felt. She’d felt…free. She hadn’t cared about what Jaxor would think of her. She’d wanted something from him and she’d taken it. Erin had never done anything like that in her life. She’d never been so forward or bold or reckless. Ever.

She nodded to the quiet cave, blowing out another quiet puff of air, and pushed up to stand. The fire was still going, giving the cave a delicious warmth, giving her light with which to study Jaxor. In sleep, he still looked grumpy and broody. His lips were turned down, his eyes flickered back and forth underneath his eyelids. Erin traced the sloping lines of his face with her eyes, licking her bottom lip. Something like longing went through her, faint but present.

If Erin found out that she was stuck on Luxiria, that there was no way of returning to Earth, would she want someone like Jaxor? Would she want him to be her partner in life, as a mate? Could she envision him as the father of her children, if she ever had any?

Her shoulders sagged, refusing to answer that because she would be going home. She had to believe that. Quietly, she crept around him before stepping from the entrance of the cave, her eyes darting around for signs of a live kekevir.

She was relieved when she saw none. Instead, she saw that most of the flooding had gone down through the night, no doubt due to Jaxor’s drainage holes, one of them being the pulley system to the east of the base. It had stopped raining and slowly the base was clearing out, leaving behind a sodden mess in its wake.

Erin wanted a proper shower. Desperately. She wanted fresh clothes. But she didn’t dare venture down to the base. There was a dead kekevir still down there, a reminder of the always-present danger. When Erin forced herself to look at it, she saw Jaxor’s knife still embedded in its skull.

Behind her, she heard him begin to rouse, as if his Instinct sensed her missing from the cave.

“Rixella,” he rasped, his voice drowsy from a deep sleep. Was it bad of her to wish he was as hungover as she was?

“I’m here,” she called softly, looking over her shoulder at him. When he finally located her, relief entered his gaze. Perhaps he was too tired to shield it from her.

When he stood, Erin saw his wounds—he must’ve taken the bandage off after she went to sleep. The two deep claw marks from the kekevir were well on their way to healing. Erin knew Luxirians healed fast. One of her guards back in the Golden City had sliced his hand on the edge of a knife once. The next day, the wound was gone, as if it had never happened. She would need to pull the stitches out that morning, so Jaxor’s skin didn’t grow around them.

Erin placed her hand on the nearest stone wall, still feeling a little nauseous. Looking at his wound, remembering how slippery her hands had been with blood, didn’t help.

Her eyes darted up to his hair instead as he approached, as he looked out over the mess of his base and let out a sharp sigh. His haircut suited him—just as she’d thought last night. Just looking at him made her heartbeat pick up in her chest. Handsome male, she thought. It was almost unfair.

There was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence between them. Erin felt her cheeks heat briefly, but it was he that broke it.

“Last night was a mistake,” he rasped, studying her face closely as he said it. “It will not happen again, tev?”

She froze but managed to shield her expression—one of disbelief and hurt and anger—before he could see it. If she’d been the gaping sort, her jaw would’ve dropped.

His tone was dismissive. As if what happened between them last night—that world-spinning kiss and the orgasm that followed—meant nothing.

She should be relieved. She should be agreeing wholeheartedly with him to save some of her dignity. She should be the one saying last night had been a mistake. He was the asshole who had kidnapped her in the first place.

Erin hated that she felt hurt by his words. She couldn’t stand it.

Then again, there was nothing for her to do but nod. “Right,” she said softly, looking away from him. It wasn’t like she’d been planning to hate-kiss him again, anyways. Right?

“Rixella—”

Erin cleared her throat, hoping it would clear away some of the awkward tension between them. It was a hard thing to do, considering she was standing there in a tunic stained with his seed. And he was telling her last night was a mistake?

“I should probably clean out the cave,” she said, since she couldn’t think of anything else to say. It would give her something to do, help keep her mind off him. “It’s a bit of a mess in there.”

Just what does he plan to do with me?she wondered, turning away from him, her head swimming. A part of Erin had believed he’d brought her there because…because he planned to keep her. She was his fated mate. He’d admitted that much himself. And one thing she knew about Luxirian fated mates was that it was a forever type of deal. There was some major cosmic voodoo at work when it came to fated mates.

But if he told her getting to second base last night had been a mistake, that it wouldn’t happen again…then what the hell was he planning?

Regardless, Erin knew she should be on her toes. He was keeping her in the dark. If he didn’t plan on keeping her as his mate, then it meant he would use her for something else.

Fear jolted in her belly. She felt his gaze on the back of her neck, but she hurried inside the cave quickly. She looked around at the mess. Mess she could handle. Mess could easily be cleaned, fixed, tidied. There was nothing she liked more than cleaning.

Pushing back her hair, ignoring the way her head pounded, Erin got to work.

* * *

Jaxor was workingat the furnace when she finished clearing out the cave. Earlier, after she’d dumped all the bloody furs out, with a plan to wash them that day, she’d seen him pumping out water from the base near the waterfall. When she emerged then, she saw the thin layer of water was mostly gone, leaving the stone floor of the crater wet and shimmering, but flood-free.

Now, the stone was beginning to dry, albeit slowly. The suns were peeking out every now and again from behind a thick shield of clouds.

Jaxor had changed his clothes, donning a pair of brown hide pants and a loose, dark grey tunic with a hole near his shoulder. She was still unused to seeing him with short hair. She wondered what he thought about it, if he liked it, but figured it didn’t matter. She’d already swept his hair out of the cave, piling it near the entrance until she could dispose of it. It had brought a flush to her face, looking at those silky strands, knowing what had happened after they’d fluttered to the floor last night. Remembering the heat between them, the intimacy of being so close to him…

Jaxor was hammering something near the furnace. Around it, the ground was dry, so she knew it burned hot. For the first time, she noticed that the kekevir was gone. There was no evidence that it had ever been there. The rain and the drainage holes erased any trace of blood and gore.

Erin allowed herself to watch Jaxor for only a moment before she turned to go back inside, planning to scrub the cave floor clean of his blood with an old tunic of his, one from the bundle she’d brought inside the cave yesterday. It didn’t take her long to do. By the time she was done, her knees were red and roughened and she felt even grimier than before she’d started. But she looked around at her work, proud.

The walls and floors were spotless, she’d reorganized both chests and pushed them back against the wall, she’d shaken out all the bloodless furs, she’d cleaned the ash from the little fire pit. Now all that was left was to wash the dirtied furs. And bathe.

It was all very domestic, but at least it gave her something to do. She thought she’d go insane if she puttered around all day. And since Jaxor wasn’t leaving the base that day, she couldn’t go explore the hovercraft again. Though, after what happened yesterday, Erin thought she should wait until he had a gate in place for the kekevir before she traveled down that tunnel again. Just thinking of being trapped by one of those things, alone and weaponless, made a shudder run down her spine.

Outside, she balled all the furs up and maneuvered her way down to the ground level from the cave entrance. It was early afternoon, she guessed, judging by the positions of the suns, which she’d tracked in the Golden City. There had been little else to do, after all.

Jaxor paused in his work to look at her when she approached. He was either fixing the cave door or working on a gate, she couldn’t be certain which.

Erin cleared her throat, suddenly nervous to have to speak with him after a morning of complete silence. He’d left her to her work and she’d left him to his. If he felt the tension between them, he didn’t comment on it and neither did she.

She stepped around a bucket that had floated all the way from near the crops and regarded him. “Do you have any soap?”

“Soap?” he repeated. His voice sounded more like a grunt.

“For washing,” she said patiently. “I need to get the blood out of these furs and,” she tucked her hair behind her ear, “I also want to bathe.”

His brow was sweating from the heat of the furnace. He paused to rake a hand through his hair and Erin’s mouth went a little dry. The muscles in his arms flexed as he did…and that haircut was just unfair. Why did he have to look the way he did while also having the grumpiest and moodiest disposition ever?

His lips, which she now unfortunately knew were surprisingly soft and plump, pursed and he nodded.

Stop staring at his lips, she ordered herself silently. Her eyes immediately cut to his eyes and her swallow sounded more like a gulp.

Last night was a mistake. She remembered his words, remembered that they should echo her own sentiments too. But it was difficult.

Now that they’d kissed, there always seemed to be the unspoken possibility that they’d kiss again. And again. It made her belly jolt with awareness, with little, terrible, crazed butterflies that battered at her bones.

Jaxor’s gaze locked on her but she turned towards the waterfall, which was pouring down more water than yesterday, a roaring, white rush. The pool was still overflowing, but Erin would make do.

She sensed Jaxor moving and when she chanced a peek at him, he was near the multitude of chests, rummaging through one. He brought out a large black vial with what looked like little pebbles rolling around inside. Erin recognized it from the Golden City. It was the same soap they’d used in the washing room.

For the first time, she wondered how Jaxor had accumulated all of these supplies. Did he still journey to the Golden City? Or even to the outposts spread across Luxiria? He’d admitted to her that he hadn’t been exiled after all, so that meant he was still allowed to go wherever he pleased, right?

When he handed it to her, Erin murmured, “Thanks,” and then walked over to the waterfall, all too aware of his gaze on her back.

She’d tucked one of his clean tunics and one of the cleaner furs in among the ones she needed to wash. That way, she could dry off with the clean fur and dress in fresh clothes after her bath. Studying the waterfall, she decided to bathe first because she didn’t want to wash in bloody, dirty water after she scrubbed the furs in it.

There wasn’t exactly a lot of privacy in Jaxor’s base, but Erin was, frankly, beyond caring. He’d seen her naked before—when he’d first seen her. He’d made it clear he didn’t intend to take her as his luxiva—not that she wanted that, anyways—and he’d also made it clear that they wouldn’t be hooking up again after last night.

So what was the harm?

None at all, that small, wicked little voice whispered in her mind as she stripped off her tunic.