The Alien’s Claim by Zoey Draven

Chapter Two

Once he was certain the Mevirax were far enough away, Jaxor hauled the human female over his shoulder once more, ignoring her muted sound of protest, and maneuvered her back down to the forest floor.

Once there, he gashed the trunk of the tree with a fast swipe of his claws for no other reason than that it made him feel slightly more in control. He didn’t even know why, but immediately, that turbulent beast rising within him quieted and stilled.

The female froze when she witnessed his small outburst, but Jaxor didn’t give her a chance to say anything before he was running again. His sandcraft wasn’t far and he needed to reach it before the Mevirax gave up searching and circled back.

Jaxor could smell her even as he raced through the forest. Her scent clung to his skin and his nostrils flared, inhaling deep, almost groaning with the rightness of it. Then anger consumed him again—at her, at himself, at the blasted Fates for tying the two of them together, thereby ruining his ultimate plan.

Vrax, he thought, only to realize he’d grated it sharply out loud when he felt the female tense against him.

He almost laughed. Madness of Mevirax? Perhaps he’d become more like them than he’d realized.

The human female was wary of him. Good, she should be.

Jaxor wasn’t completely convinced that he wouldn’t give her up to the Mevirax, after all. His mind was muddled. Perhaps a full night of sleep and time would help him think straight and give him the guidance he needed.

And when was the last time you slept for a full night? his mind taunted.

All he wanted was to look at her for hours…and all he wanted was to pretend that he’d never seen her in the first place.

“You’re hurting me,” came her voice. It was soft yet strong. Jaxor had the distinct impression that she was trying to convey her anger and displeasure with him, but her voice was too lyrical for it to achieve its desired effect.

He growled when he realized he’d been gripping her thigh too hard, pricking her with his sharpened claws, and loosened his grip.

“Just let me down,” she urged. “I won’t run. Where am I going to go?”

He wouldn’t believe anything she said. When was the last time someone had told him a truth?

Well, the Mevirax, perhaps. For all their faults, at least they weren’t liars.

“We are almost there,” he grated out instead. It hurt to talk. He’d talked more that span—in a strange, new language no less, a gift from the Mevirax for his ‘mission’—than he had in the past rotation alone.

“And then where will we go?” she asked. “What do you plan to do with me, exactly?”

“Cease speaking,” he growled, reaching the limit of his patience.

His priority was getting the both of them out of the forest and then back to his home. Discomfort and unease coiled in his belly, knowing that he’d just betrayed the Mevirax’s trust and the agreement made between them. Luckily, Jaxor had never told them the exact location of his base, but a few among them knew that he’d settled close to the Pass of Kokillix.

Jaxor was confident his little sanctuary was hidden enough, but he would take extra precautions in the coming lunar cycles.

No one had ever seen his home. And now he would bring a female to it.

My female, the strange beast inside him purred.

Jaxor shook his head and felt her arm brush against his straightened horn. He almost closed his eyes at the sensation of it.

Nix.

The edge of the forest came into view and just beyond it was his sandcraft. Glancing around in the darkness, he didn’t see any sign of the Mevirax’s sandcrafts. They must have entered through the south.

Jaxor slid the female off his shoulder once he jumped onboard, but kept her tucked against him, pressing her into the console just as he’d done on their journey across the Black Desert. A primal, stubborn part of him needed her to be close, enclosed, protected by him. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t want to understand it.

I should have given her over to the Mevirax, he thought. At least one female would’ve been better than none. Perhaps they still would’ve given him the opportunity to—

Enough.

What was done was done.

He started the sandcraft before a thought occurred to him—another opportunity he might not be able to pass up.

With a huff, he turned the sandcraft around and raced south, towards where the Mevirax may have entered the forest…but also where Cruxan would’ve entered as well.

It was a risk. He didn’t have much time. The Mevirax could’ve already begun to circle back and the possibility that they’d heard him start up his sandcraft was high, the piece of utter shit that it was. The night was still and quiet and the engine was loud.

A dark grin stole across his features when he finally spotted what he sought. Cruxan’s hovercraft. In perfect condition, straight from the command center itself. He would never have another opportunity to steal one like this again.

If only mother and sire could see you now…how proud they would be, his mind whispered, wiping the grin off his face entirely. With an anguished growl, he hit his temple hard, as if it could help erase the stray thought. He hit it again when the first time failed.

“Stop,” the female cried out, frowning, reaching up to grip his forearm. “Why are you doing that to yourself?”

Jaxor snarled at her, pulling his arm away.

Halting his sandcraft next to Cruxan’s much-improved model, Jaxor gathered the few belongings he had onboard and, with his temple throbbing, grated down to the female, “Come.”

Her eyes went to the hovercraft. She was intelligent, he would give her that.

“No,” she murmured. “Crystal needs that to get back.”

“I am leaving this here for Cruxan,” Jaxor told her. “They will still make it back to the Golden City safely.”

His fingers dipped underneath the console when she eyed the hovercraft warily and plucked the starter pod from its place. He crushed it in his palm before he replaced it. He wouldn’t take the chance that Cruxan would pursue him, especially if Vaxa’an had tasked it to him, but she didn’t need to know that.

“It was not a request,” he informed her, taking her by the arm and pulling her off more roughly than he intended. His stomach squeezed when she stumbled in the sand, but the withering glare she threw at him helped ease his concern.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” she seethed, pushing her hair out of her eyes with her bound hands.

He figured it was an insult in her language, not to be taken literally, and he bared his teeth at her in reply. He threw his travel sack into the back of Cruxan’s hovercraft—Jaxor’s hovercraft now—and lifted her up by her small waist, his grip lingering.

She shook him off, her displeasure evident, and she plopped down close to the side of the hovercraft. Jaxor wanted her close to him but knew that once they got into the air, there would be nowhere for her to go.

Something uncomfortable, something he didn’t recognize, tightened his chest when he saw her looking down at her bound hands. He’d tied the knots tight earlier that morning, so he knew they were irritating her delicate flesh.

Still, he didn’t release her.

Walking past her to the console, he started up the hovercraft with minimal effort. It was new technology to him, but he’d tinkered with wreckage he’d come across often enough to be able to navigate it easily.

In another moment, the quiet engine kicked up and they shot off from the ground, hurtling above the forest, and into the quiet night sky. The wind rushed loudly around his ears as adrenaline pulsed through him. He hadn’t been this high off the ground since warrior training.

Jaxor shook his head and looked over his shoulder to distract himself. The female was still there, curled close to his travel sack, her face turned from him. Unease prowled in his chest as the newfound sensation inside him gave warning. It warned him not to push her too much…or else he might lose her forever.

With a huff, he turned. It couldn’t be helped. Not right then. Jaxor didn’t know what he intended to do with the female…whether he would hand her over to the Mevirax after all, or if he would take her back to the Golden City.

Or if he would keep her all to himself.

His claws dug into the brushed metal of the console, already marking his newest possession.

Jaxor’s eyes returned to the female again.

He wondered how much longer it would be before she, too, was marked by him.