The Alien’s Seduction by Zoey Draven

Chapter Eighteen

The next morning felt…different. And not only because the landscape had begun to change.

Crystal was quiet. She had been since she’d woken that morning to the smell of cooking meat. Cruxan had apparently snagged another creature, just outside the mouth of the cave. Last night—or had it been early morning when she’d woken from her dream?—was still fresh in her mind and she didn’t know how she felt about…anything.

Because a lot had happened since they’d stepped foot in that cave yesterday. They’d actually talked, had conversations about serious topics. She’d learned about Cruxan’s losses, she’d told him about her own, they’d talked about what they wanted from their future. And then Cruxan’s whole ‘honesty’ game happened…the one where she begrudgingly admitted he hadn’t lied. Not once.

She was so used to untruths that she didn’t know how to handle someone who was so honest. And that was sad, wasn’t it? She didn’t trust him because she expected him to lie.

That’s no way to live my life, she couldn’t help but think. She didn’t want to constantly believe the worst in someone, not without that person giving her reason to.

So, Crystal was beginning to worry. She was feeling a fissure in the wall she’d built up around her. She was fighting it. Her old self was fighting against letting him in. She hadn’t let anyone in since Leo. She’d locked her fractured heart away and thrown away the key. Only, something told her that Cruxan would use a crowbar, not a key, to get inside, that he was determined enough to, especially after what he’d told her last night.

It will only be you, he’d said.

She couldn’t deny the fact that she’d felt something at those deep, husky words. Something frightening and intriguing and thrilling. She wanted to dive head first into those words, let them wash over her until she was pulled down, down, down to the very bottom by them.

What would it be like, being loved by him?

Truthfully, it felt exhausting, constantly fighting against it, against him. The lonely part of her that wanted to be brave just wanted to give in and explore him, but the other part of her, the logical, wounded part, would never allow that to happen.

That day, they were about a half day’s travel from the cave where they’d camped the night before. Crystal must’ve been lost in thought because she noticed that Cruxan had stopped and was looking at her expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” she asked, her cheeks flaming a little bit.

“I asked if you were hungry or need to take a break,” he said, watching her closely.

A little flutter went through her but she shook her head. Why did he have to be so damn thoughtful all the time? “No, I’m fine.”

“We are entering the west lands,” he told her. “Stay close, tev?”

She cut him a startled look. “Is it dangerous?”

“It is dense jungle,” he murmured. “It will get dark quickly inside.”

“Okay,” she murmured, looking past him. They’d left the white tree forest a long time ago and had slowly started to veer away from the mountain range. In the distance, she could see a solid wall of huge trees, though they looked more like gigantic plants with flat, curved leaves. It stretched for miles and miles and she didn’t know how far back the jungle went.

“Are you well, luxiva?” came his next question, standing close. So close that she had to crane her neck up to look at him. His nearness sent her heart racing but not in fear or panic.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You have been quiet,” he commented. His lips quirked. He amended, “Quieter, at least.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. She licked her lips, all too aware of his gaze. “Just thinking about some things.”

“About last night?”

Crystal swallowed but her lack of reply answered his question all the same.

He didn’t comment on it. He didn’t push at all. In fact, he fell back into step beside her, his hand brushing her arm.

Crystal looked down at her feet as they walked, at the pair of sandals he’d surprised her with that morning in the cave. They were surprising comfortable and kept her feet dry.

She’d be lying if she said that a part of her wasn’t incredibly touched by his thoughtfulness, by his concern for her wellbeing. She wasn’t used to it, someone else watching out for her.

“Thank you again for the shoes, Cruxan,” she said, breaking the silence between them. She’d thanked him already, but she did really appreciate them and the effort he’d put into them. He must’ve worked all night on them, going without sleep. Again.

“You do not need to thank me, luxiva,” he murmured, which was what he’d replied with earlier that morning. If she didn’t know any better, she would think it made him shy. But a shy Cruxan? She couldn’t imagine that.

They fell back into silence and every time his arm brushed her side, it made her heart do strange things. She wondered if he could hear the way it flipped in her chest.

He broke the silence with something that she’d never expected him to ask.

“Will you tell me about Krane and Jir—Jron?” he tried, sounding out the strange name. It was even strange in English.

Crystal’s lips parted. “You remember that?”

“Tev, of course,” he said.

The way he said it, his voice all dark and deep, made her spine tingle. “Oh, um, they’re just these characters my sister and I made up when we were little. Like…imaginary friends, I guess.”

“Imaginary friends,” he repeated, rolling those words around on his tongue, his brow furrowed almost quizzically.

“Every kid I knew had some kind of imaginary friend,” she rushed out, a little embarrassed. “Didn’t you?”

“I…do not think I understand the concept, luxiva,” he murmured, though it was him who now seemed a little embarrassed, as if his lack of knowledge shamed him.

“Did you ever, I don’t know, play around as a child? With your friends? With your sisters?”

“You mean like training?” he asked, frowning. “I would never fight my sisters.”

He’d grown up in a warrior culture. For all she knew, fighting had been his brand of fun.

“You would never pretend that you were a warrior, even when you were young?” she asked softly. Something about that made her sad.

“My destiny was always to be a warrior,” he replied, glancing over at her. “I did not need to pretend.”

“Right,” she said, her lips quirking. So…Cruxan and perhaps many other Luxirian children didn’t grow up imagining they were knights or police officer or fighting against zombies or making mud pies from anything they could find.

“Human offspring do this?” he asked next, slowly.

“Yes,” she said. “We were always making up something, imagining we were different, or in a different place, with different friends.”

“Like Krane and Jron,” he finished hesitantly for her.

Crystal smiled a little. “Yes, they were our goblin friends.”

She didn’t even want to try to explain goblins to him when he couldn’t understand using his imagination.

“It’s silly,” she murmured. “My sister and I made them up, slowly over time. We lived in a place called Washington and we lived surrounded by trees and nature. It was easy to imagine goblins or faeries or elves living in a place like that. It’s good to have an imagination, at least I think so.”

She glanced over at him, to find him watching her carefully. She couldn’t read his expression, but she got the impression that he simply liked hearing her talk. That she could be reading from a dictionary and he would never want her to stop.

That knowledge flustered her, made her belly flutter, and she quickly continued with, “My mom and my dad didn’t have the best relationship, you see. They would argue and fight a lot, so after school, my sister and I would never want to be in the house. We would go into the woods just beyond our backyard and imagine anything we wanted. It…it made me happy.”

That word again. Happy.

“We came up with Krane and Jron around the time my father left us,” Crystal admitted quietly. “And somehow they stayed with us. Or, at least, stayed with me. They helped us get through that time. Imagination is a powerful thing. It can be a powerful tool, too, especially when you’re hurting.”

“I am sorry about your sire, luxiva,” he murmured lowly. If anyone could understand, it was him, she realized. His father had left too.

She hadn’t meant to reveal so much, but she found that she didn’t regret it.

Crystal looked over at him, clearing her throat, and said, “I was taken from Earth just after I’d begun writing a book. Their book. I want to create a series of stories for children with their adventures and I was going to do the illustrations for them too. I’ve been drawing them here actually. On Luxiria. That’s what I did most of the time back in the Golden City. At least after Kirov gave me that tablet.”

“Kirov?” Cruxan asked, frowning.

“Yes,” she said. “I think Lainey had mentioned that I liked to draw and he gave me a tablet. That’s what I would do during the day while we waited.”

He was still frowning, but he told her, “I will acquire you another one once we reach Kroratax.”

“Really?” she asked, her breath hitching.

“Tev,” he said, inclining his head. “But you must show me Krane and Jron.”

Her lips twitched. “Deal,” she said, though she suddenly felt a little nervous showing him her work. What would he think?

When she looked forward again, she was surprised to see that the jungle was looming just up ahead. Close enough that she could see past the obvious line of the threshold, into the darkness between the gaps of the massive trees. Only they weren’t really trees. Up close, they looked like gigantic agave plants, though they were a dark blue in color. Fat, flat leaves unfurled into pointed, sharp tips, the very bottom level resting on the ground of the jungle, curling wildly. The ‘trunk’ was thick and wide, climbing so high that even from a slight distance, Crystal had to tilt her head back to look up at them.

She’d never seen anything like it. Then again, everything on Luxiria surprised her.

Like the male walking next to you, her mind whispered.

In seemingly no time at all, they reached the jungle and the moment they stepped past its threshold, Crystal was assaulted with different scents and sounds and sights.

She smelled the dampness of the plant life, the pungent, musky scent of the ground. It wasn’t unpleasant—quite the opposite actually—but it was obvious. What was even more obvious to her was that there was more life in the jungle than there’d been in the white tree forest. Echoing cries reverberated off the giant trees. Branches rustled. She heard skittering little feet run past to her left, but when she looked, there was nothing there.

Definitely a little eerie. Cruxan must’ve noticed her unease because he assured her, “They are only virvira. Harmless little beasts that will probably be our meal for the night.”

What struck her the most was the jungle’s beauty. The light seemed to have a blue tinge because of the massive agave plants. She felt cocooned in by them since they towered on all sides. It was oddly cozy, yet otherworldly and even ethereal.

As they ventured deeper inside, Crystal got a closer look at the other plant life that sprouted along the jungle floor. Vivid and colorful plants dotted the landscape, ranging from electric blue to a vibrant emerald green. One particular teal-colored plant sprouted orange bulbs and when she asked Cruxan what they were, he replied they were used as a spice once properly dried.

It took time to take it all in as they walked. The artist in her wanted to paint it because the jungle held a strange beauty she wanted to capture, in all of its glorious colors.

What I wouldn’t give for a camera right now, she mused, her lips quirking a little. But since she didn’t have one, she tried to memorize everything she saw, so that she would be able to paint it later. She studied the textures of the agave trees, the way the low light bounced off their leaves. She studied the ground, how it resembled the stickiness and consistency of mud, but didn’t leave residue on the bottom of her new shoes when she checked. She studied all the colors, all while wondering how she would ever be able to mix paints that would do them justice.

“It is different, tev?” Cruxan asked her quietly.

“It’s beautiful,” she replied, looking over at him. “But it must be overwhelming for you. All the smells and sounds.”

His lips quirked, his eyes warm. “If I try to focus only on you,” he started, making her lips part, “then it is not so overwhelming.”

Crystal’s fingers shook a little and she could physically feel another little fissure cracking her guard again. Why did he have to be so damn charming? Why couldn’t he be a selfish asshole? This whole ‘ignoring the mate business’ would be a hell of a lot easier if he was an asshole.

Crystal lagged behind slightly, despite Cruxan’s earlier warnings. If she didn’t get a little bit of space between them, she would regret it later. Even though his back was to her—and what a magnificent eyeful that made—Crystal knew that, with his senses, he’d be able to hear if anything was a threat around them. She didn’t feel like she was in danger, though the jungle was alive with noise.

They were just rounding another agave tree, journeying deeper into the jungle, when Crystal spied a bright flash of fuchsia pink that immediately drew her awed gaze.

It was a cluster of black, spiky bushes, bunched and a little hidden underneath a trunk of one agave tree. Crystal counted at least seven of them and each bush was topped with a single, unfurled, fuchsia flower.

It was beautiful. The flower had thick petals, clustered like a peony, her absolute favorite, and from the very center, there was a black stem that jutted from the top. The color grew even more vibrant as she approached it.

Up close, she could smell a heady perfume that made her lips part. It was a delicious fragrance, one she wanted more of. She wanted to bathe in that fragrance.

Crystal reached out without thinking, perhaps a little too comfortable with her surroundings, and plucked the flower from the bush.

Her first realization was that the petals felt slick, like they were oily, and when Crystal pulled back her fingers, she saw clear residue on her flesh.

Before she had time to think about what it was, she heard Cruxan.

With an alarmed tone, he said, “Crystal, do not—vrax!”

Crystal’s gaze flashed up to him just as she felt a strange sensation overcome her body.

“C-Cruxan?” she asked, her fingers suddenly becoming warm. She felt that warmth travel up her arms slowly.

“Vrax,” he cursed quietly, gently squeezing her wrist so she dropped the flower without him touching it.

Oh God, had she touched a poisonous flower? A poisonous alien flower?

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Am…am I going to die?” she whispered, staring wide-eyed up at Cruxan, her heart pounding.

His brow furrowed but he assured her, “Nix, luxiva, it will not hurt you.” Lowering his tone, as if speaking to himself, he said, “It will hurt me more than it will hurt you.”

“W-what?” she asked, realizing that her core was growing warm. Very, very warm.

What the hell?

Her nipples began to tingle and that was when the first sense of dread hit her.

“This is a tevvax bloom,” he said to her, his face scrunched, as though in pain.

His hand was still on her wrist and when he moved it slightly, she almost gasped at the delicious sensation on her flesh.

His voice was dark as he told her, “It is used to make the most powerful pleasure drug on Luxiria.”