The Alien’s Claim by Zoey Draven

Chapter Forty-Nine

“They are ready,” Vaxa’an said.

“So soon?” Jaxor asked, standing from his sleeping platform.

There was hope in his brother’s eyes. Tentative as it was. He clasped a hand on his shoulder and Jaxor even felt it through the fellixix.

“To be blunt, they want your trial to disappear,” Vaxa’an said. “The protests are making them nervous. And with the decision about the Mevirax looming, they do not want to take on the added stress.”

Jaxor didn’t want to get his hopes up. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically.

“Did you know?” Jaxor asked Vaxa’an.

After Erin had spoken with the elder council, they’d whisked Jaxor out so they could make their final decision. He hadn’t been able to speak with his brother.

“That she was pregnant?” Vaxa’an asked quietly. Their eyes connected and held. “Tev.”

Jaxor closed his eyes, not certain what to feel anymore. His emotions felt ragged, frayed at the edges. He felt crushing hope, elation, anger, grief, confusion, disappointment, fear.

I am going to be a sire, he thought, the idea strange and foreign. It was something he never thought possible, so he hadn’t thought of it at all.

Why did she not tell me?he’d wondered endlessly.

But only she could answer that.

“I am ready,” he said, nodding at his brother. He wanted to hear their decision, if only so that he could speak with Erin sooner. Regardless of the outcome, he would have time to speak with his loved ones.

Vaxa’an inclined his head and led him from the quarters, walking side by side with him down the hallway of the command center. In a short time, they were walking through the doors of the council room. The Ambassadors were gone. Only the elders remained, still in their places on the dais. It was unlike any trial he’d ever been witness to. The council room was usually packed with Luxirians, especially for rulings.

Jaxor stopped at the foot of the dais but Vaxa’an didn’t withdraw. He stood beside him, even then, as they waited for the head elder to announce the council decision.

The magnitude of the moment hadn’t fully hit him yet. Jaxor was still reeling over Erin’s pregnancy, that it was her that had spread the rumors in the Golden City.

In fact, the council’s ruling, as monumental to his own lifespan as it was, happened so quickly that Jaxor was entirely unprepared for it.

“Jaxor’an, son of Kirax’an,” the head elder began, “the Council of Virzalla has decided to grant you a full pardon for your crimes against Luxiria.”

Jaxor didn’t react. Not at first. His ears started ringing when he perceived Vaxa’an’s breath quickening, when he felt his brother squeeze his shoulder.

The black metal of the chains clasped around his wrists jingled when his hands shook in disbelief.

“Rebax?” he rasped.

The head elder—the male’s name was Duvira, he knew—pressed his lips together. Jaxor met the eyes of the other elders and he wondered whether any had voted against a pardon.

“You will be released from the command center’s custody effective immediately.”

Vaxa’an moved to take the chains from his wrists, the metal scraping when he turned the key. They fell with a thud onto the marbled flooring of the council room, echoing.

When Jaxor looked over at his brother, he was still in shock. His wrists were rubbed raw from the cuffs, but his arms had never felt lighter.

“Can I ask why?” Jaxor murmured.

Vaxa’an stilled next to him.

“Why?” Duvira repeated slowly, peering down at him from the dais.

“Tev.”

“Given the circumstances of your trial, given your aid in recovering a potential treatment for our females and the capture of the Mevirax, and given the testimony of your fated mate,” Duvira continued, “we could not, in good conscience, sentence you to exile or death. Especially considering that your fated mate is with offspring and we do not yet know the effects of a broken bond pairing among humans.”

Jaxor swallowed. In a way, he’d been pardoned because the council hadn’t wanted Erin to suffer for his crimes, because she carried a half-Luxirian child…his child.

“Do you accept the council’s ruling?” Duvira asked, peering down at him with an unreadable yet stoic expression.

“Tev,” Jaxor said, the word tumbling from his lips. His ears felt like they’d been stuffed with fur. “I do.”

“Then be away,” Duvira said, dismissing him, the elders rising from the dais. “And let it be known that the Council of Virzalla pardoned you.”

Jaxor didn’t quite know what he meant by those last parting words, but their meaning became clear the moment he stepped from the command center. Jaxor didn’t even remember Vaxa’an walking him from the council room, or down the hallways of the command center, but then bright, warm Luxirian sunlight washed over his body and a warm wind threaded across his skin. And the only thing that would have felt better than that was his rixella safe in his arms.

When the ringing in his ears ceased and he was confronted with hundreds and hundreds of Luxirians sprawling across the Black Desert, when their shouts and cries abruptly quieted as both he and Vaxa’an emerged from the command center, he understood what Duvira had wanted from him.

A young female near them—with long, dark hair and tired eyes—stepped forward, past the line of warrior guards that had held the crowd away from the doors of the command center.

“Is it true?” she asked, voice quiet, looking from one brother to the next. A hush rippled out from her words and Jaxor’s chest tightened when he saw the longing on her face. “Is there hope for us?”

Erin’s words from the trial came back to him.

All they want are answers.

Vaxa’an looked over at him and inclined his head. His brother might’ve been silenced by the elder council, but Jaxor was not. In fact, Duvira had encouraged him to speak, so he would.

“Tev,” Jaxor rasped, locking eyes with her. “There is hope.”