The Alien’s Seduction by Zoey Draven

Chapter Thirty-Two

There was a familiar scent in the air, but Cruxan ignored it as he walked back to his dwelling. His female’s scent had been haunting him the last five spans and he knew that it was nothing but his own willful imaginings.

“Ambassador,” a warrior greeted, inclining his head, making his way down the Otylia, the jagged, imposing mountain range that Otala was crafted from. It was a long, winding way down to the command center, to the warrior training grounds, from his dwelling, but he needed the cool, brisk air to help clear his mind.

Cruxan inclined his head in greeting at the young warrior, who he passed without another word, skirting around the mountain cliff’s edge.

He could walk the Otylia with his eyes closed. He had walked the rocky, dangerous paths more times than he could count, especially the path leading up to his dwelling. His home was perched on a private cliff, a dwelling he’d created for himself, to be away from the noise of the outpost which lay below. And most nights, except for the howling wind, he heard nothing.

He dreaded going there now. Before, it had been his sanctuary. Now, it only reminded himself that he was alone. The quiet had a way of creeping in and settling. It was beginning to settle in his bones. He was thinking of moving down to the outpost below, to escape it.

Another familiar scent caught on the wind and he huffed out an impatient breath. Tarax was waiting for him on the small curve that led up to his dwelling, clothed in a red dress, the material much too light and fragile for an Otala night. Except, he knew that Tarax expected that night to be spent in his sleeping platform, underneath his furs.

The thought churned his gut and he clenched his jaw, prepared for a confrontation.

“Ambassador,” she murmured, lowering her eyes when he reached her.

Cruxan had been on edge since he’d left Kroratax. His temper was short, his mood volatile.

Even still, he tried to say as gently as he could, “Tarax, we discussed this.”

She’d come to him the morning he’d reached Otala. He’d explained to her that he was no longer interested in their pleasure partnership, that he wasn’t interested in any relationship.

She’d pressed but eventually determined that he was serious and had left in a huff.

Now this…

“I thought that maybe you had changed your mind,” she purred.

Cruxan didn’t stop. He didn’t have the energy or the will to deal with her.

“I have not,” was all he said, hoping that she would leave him be. The male that Tarax had once known was gone. Completely. He was just a shell now, his soul attached to another.

She followed. His dwelling came into view.

“We like being with one another,” she persisted. “I do not need anything beyond what we had.”

Cruxan blew out a sharp breath. He was so damn tired. So very tired. He had not slept since Kroratax. Not a single moment. During the nights, he only had his thoughts and the memory of her and it drove him half-insane. So, he’d taken to working through the nights at the command center, to training himself bloody in the pits, anything to distract himself.

But that night, he knew he could not put off sleep any longer, though he knew he would dream of her.

Is this what my life span will be like? he couldn’t help but question solemnly. If that was the case, he knew why mates slowly wasted away without the other. He felt like he was drifting. He felt old, like the rest of his life span would just be more hard work, followed by more hard work, followed by more hard work without reprieve.

He didn’t want Tarax to believe she could enter his dwelling. If he believed that he could take another pleasure partner, after knowing his luxiva, he had been sorely mistaken. Just the thought of being with another made him nauseous, made his skin crawl, and his Instinct rebel.

Tarax was a beautiful female. They had been pleasure partners for a little while and Cruxan knew that she was simply lonely.

“I cannot give you what you want,” Cruxan said softly. “Not anymore.”

“Why?” she demanded, her anger rising.

He caught another phantom scent of his female, stronger and more potent than it had been before. It made him ache, made everything in him ache with longing and despair.

“Because I found my luxiva,” he confessed to her, knowing he at least owed her an explanation.

Tarax’s lips parted in disbelief before she said softly, “And where is she?”

“Not here,” was all he said.

Not with me, was what he meant.

Tarax heard his unspoken meaning and pity flashed her gaze. Then she said, “I do not mind.”

His brows furrowed. She meant that she did not mind he had a mate, that she still wanted to be his pleasure partner.

“I do,” he said, his voice hard and unyielding. “There will never be another for me.”

“Is it that powerful?” she questioned softly, looking up at him, in disappointment, in sadness, in curiosity.

He inclined his head. “Tev.”

Tarax blew out a breath and wrapped her arms around her body. She looked up at him and said, “I will miss you.”

Cruxan felt like a monster because he could only think of his female right then. He didn’t want to dismiss Tarax’s feelings so readily since they had known one another for so long…but he didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t.

“You will find another,” he told her. “Another who can give you what you want. It is not me.”

She looked at him for a long time, perhaps hoping that he would change his mind. But he only looked back, hoping that she would understand.

Finally, she inclined her head, a gesture of respect for his position. Then, without another word, she turned and left, winding her way back down the Otylia.

Cruxan blew out a long breath, his eyes raising to gaze at the expanse of his land, a view he’d grown up with. Majestic yet melancholy peaks, dense fog winding around them, and mountains for as far as the eye could see. And Cruxan could see very, very far.

He turned and trudged his way up to his dwelling. When he unbolted the door and stepped through, he froze.

Her scent was too real. It wasn’t just his imaginings. It was all around him.

And when his female stood from where was perched at the front window ledge—how had he not seen her or sensed her?—his hand fell away from the door in surprise.

Perhaps this was a dream or a hallucination. He was sleep deprived, but he hadn’t realized how much. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

“Are you real?” he rasped, staring at her, not wanting to get his hopes up. Because if she broke him a second time…he didn’t know if he could survive it.

Crystal’s brows drew together, her expression anguished. “Yes,” she said, approaching him.

She was dressed in the soft fur sweater, as she’d called it, that Beks had made, a long blue dress underneath it. Her golden hair flowed around her shoulders and he reached out to touch it, to feel the strands between his fingers, as if that alone could determine if he had truly gone mad.

Her hand closed around his and his breath hitched. He knew that touch. He knew her warmth.

“What…” he trailed off, trying to make sense of her. “What are you doing here?”

“I made a mistake,” she said softly. Deep, dark circles were underneath her eyes and it looked like she had lost weight in her face, her cheekbones more prominent. She looked as tired as he felt. “A terrible mistake.”

“How…”

Vrax, he felt like he was in shock. Over five spans of wanting her and he couldn’t fathom that she was actually standing in front of him, in Otala, in his dwelling.

“Lihvan brought me. Beks came too. They are staying down at the Ambassador dwelling tonight,” she told him softly.

“You are supposed to be in the Golden City,” he said.

She looked worried as she watched him.

“I never left Kroratax,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“Because…” she trailed off but then her expression became fierce. “Because Kroratax was closer to you. I could not leave.”

Cruxan froze, his breaths coming quick.

“I’m sorry, Cruxan,” she said, reaching out to clasp his hands in her own. “I’m so sorry about everything. I’ve been a fool. I don’t even know how to explain everything that’s been going on in my head the last week. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t even know if I deserve you. But I’m asking—begging, really—for you to give me another chance.”

Cruxan blinked, still reeling, from scenting her, from seeing her in front of him.

“I swear,” she continued when he didn’t say anything, “that I will get down on my knees and beg you if that’s what it takes. There’s so much I want to say. So much I want to apologize for.”

“What—what are you saying?” he asked, shaking his head, trying to clear the haze.

“I’m saying that I love you,” she whispered, staring up into his eyes.

This was a dream. It had to be. And when he woke, he would be devastated.

“I was afraid. I thought that by choosing you, by choosing to stay here on Luxiria, I was turning my back on my family. Again. Just like I did when I chose Leo over them. I couldn’t stomach that. It felt like a betrayal.” She looked at him. “But then I realized that I was comparing two situations that were nothing alike. I chose him out of fear, because I didn’t like who I had become. But I choose you because I want to. You are nothing like him. You are kind, you make me feel safe and protected, you make me want to smile all the time, you make me feel…happy. And not just in the ‘this is a passing emotion’ kind of happy like you told me before, but really happy, like it’s permanently stuck there in my chest.

“And I realized that if my mother—and my sister, for that matter—would ever want me to choose someone to share my life with, to be my life partner, it would be you,” she whispered. “My mother would be so happy if I chose to be with someone like you. That’s what she wanted for me. It’s what I want for myself. You. And I’m sorry it took me time to realize that.”

His eyes widened. Awareness sizzled down his spine when her hands ran up his arms, his shoulders, before pressing into his chest. He clasped her hands, feeling their softness.

“This is real,” he murmured, his brow furrowing.

She smiled, but it was hesitant. “Yes. Cruxan, this is real.”

“Please,” he rasped, taking her face between his hands, gently as if he applied too much pressure, she would vanish, “let this be real. I do not know if I can survive it again.”

“Survive what?” she whispered.

“Losing you.”

Her expression was pained. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cruxan. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make everything up to you. Just give me the chance to.”

His breath hitched, hope filling his chest for the first moment since he’d seen her.

Immediately, he tilted her face back and kissed her hard. Her surprised gasp puffed against his lips but he deepened the kiss, holding her close when he felt her respond to him.

“All I care about,” he began, pressing the words into her lips, “is that you are here, luxiva. I do not care about the rest. Only that you are here.”

Vrax, he could not believe this. Did he dare to believe this?

But she was real. She was in his arms. He tasted her tears and felt her golden hair brushing across his chest.

“I missed you,” she whispered. “So much.”

He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were shining and her lips were red.

“I tasted life without you,” she said softly. “And it was miserable. I can’t live without you, it seems. How was it only a little while ago that I had lived without you?”

Her words echoed true within him.

But the weight of the last five spans crashed down on him in that moment. He’d barely slept, had barely eaten. It was a miracle he was even standing at that moment.

“Cruxan?” she whispered, worried.

He stroked her cheek. A little ruefully, he admitted, “I need sleep. But I do not want to sleep now that you are here. I still cannot believe you are here.”

“Let’s go to sleep then,” she said, her tone light and soothing. She stroked down his skin. “I promise I won’t leave your side. Not again.”

“Tev?”

She smiled and he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“Not ever,” she whispered.