The Alien’s Seduction by Zoey Draven
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cruxan felt like he was suffocating under the weight of his rage.
When he was out of sight of the camp, when he was out of sight of his luxiva, he crouched down, closed his eyes, and tried to control the swirling maelstrom of his emotions…of his fury, of his grief, of his disbelief, of his horror.
On Luxiria, females were cherished…now more than ever. Every so often, there was a male who abused his partner. But rape was almost unheard of. Prolonged abuse was not tolerated. Those males were immediately sentenced to death. Those males were not even given the choice of exile because why subject other planets, other races, to their vileness?
Nix, Luxiria was unyielding in matters such as these.
So to hear his luxiva, his fated female, talk of her abuse, of all of the abuse she’d suffered at the hands of that male…it made Cruxan want to roar his anguish to the Fates. It made him want to steal back the crystal for himself, just so he could journey to Earth, find this dishonorable, disgusting piece of trash, and make him pay with his blood and strips of flesh.
The violence that rose inside Cruxan was unsettling. It was not what his luxiva needed to witness, not after her account, and he needed time to process her words, far, far away.
But Cruxan didn’t know if he’d ever be able to process them in full. He simply could not believe that any male would ever harm their female in that way. He had witnessed many horrors in his lifetime, during battle, during war, but this…this was something he could not fathom.
It all made sense now. He’d had his suspicions, of course, seeing her flinch when he spoke sometimes, seeing her gaze dart away, seeing her physically and mentally retreat. He remembered snippets of conversations they’d had, things she’d said that had unnerved him.
Cruxan raked his hands over his horns, threaded his fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly.
Now he knew. Everything. Now he understood why she was so…reserved. Why she was uncomfortable about sex, about touching, about violence and anger.
His chest ached. That night in the rain, when she’d had to strip off her drenched clothes…he’d heard the panic in her voice at the prospect. Now he knew for certain it was because she thought he might take advantage of her vulnerable position.
Vrax!
Luxirians were much larger than humans, especially the females. She would’ve been powerless against him. That realization would’ve definitely crossed her mind.
The thought made him sick and it took him a long while to calm his churning gut, to calm his racing heartbeat, and to calm the murderous rage within him.
Calmed, but not completely gone. He didn’t think it would ever be gone, the need to seek justice for his female. Luxirian justice, not human justice. That rage would always simmer just beneath the surface.
When Cruxan believed he could control his emotions, he managed to hunt another virvira and then walked back to camp. He didn’t know how long he was gone, but when he returned, his female was still in the same position, still staring into the flames of the dying fire.
She looked at him when he returned and Cruxan was reminded of that morning. Lying next to her, with her in his arms…he had never known such peace and contentment. The realization had been startling and he knew it was just an inkling of what could be between them.
“I’m not very hungry,” she said softly. “I think I’m going to go to sleep.”
Cruxan hesitated, but then jerked his head in a nod. He frowned when her gaze darted away and she began to make a place for herself next to the fire.
“Crystal,” he called out quietly.
When her eyes slid to his again, he wanted to tell her a million things, yet he didn’t know how to voice a single one. Not right then. Not when he was barely keeping his emotions under control.
So, instead of telling her those million things, he told her, “Thank you for telling me.”
She didn’t say anything. She gave him a brief nod and then laid down on the hard ground, her back to him, curling in on herself. He felt uneasy watching her. He wanted to go to her, to pull her in the safety of his arms, bury his face in her hair, and assure her that no one would ever hurt her again. Ever. He would never allow it. He would protect her always.
But after what she’d just told him, he figured his touch was the last thing she wanted. She probably wanted her space.
They would talk in the morning. Perhaps then Cruxan would be able to process what she’d told him in full. Perhaps then he would be able to formulate a single sentence.
He had all night to think and that was what he intended to do.
