Page 23 of Taken to Voraxia
But she does not recoil, or seem unwilling. Nox. It wasshewho initiated the contact and it isshewho continues to grip my xora with a firmness that suggests she is not repulsed by this act as another female would be.
And because of it, my xora throbs now with a pain I have experienced only once before — one rotation ago, when I had her in my grasp and could not sate the Xanaxana coursing through either of us.
She may not know Xanaxana, or Xiveri, or my xora. She will know them all. But for now, she knows only pact. And I know only need.
I speak gruffly. “I will take you to the traitor. You will see that she is safe and protected and when we return to my sleeping quarters you will consent, you will desire, and you will palm my xora like this without my guiding you.”
I feel the pang of shame when the crease appears again between her dark, shadow-colored eyes. She must know how debasing this request is for a Xiveri male to his mate, yet her need to protect herfriendsoutweighs it.
After a pause, she nods. “Okay.”
“Xhivey.”
My hand falls from her wrist, but her fingers do not unfold from my xora and the force of the blood that pumps through it is enough to make me sway.
She squeezes my xora and I bark out a curse in the ancient language, but she releases me and my eyes snap open in time to see the strangest expression cross her face.
Her mouth is turned up at the corners in a sign of pleasure — at least, this is a pleasure expression for Voraxians. Does she make it now for me? I want to ask her these things, but too quickly she hides her mouth behind her hand and turns away.
“Lead the way.”
“Xhivey,” I repeat, taking her hand and resisting the urge to carry her once more. Being so close and yet, too far, is too becoming too painful. My xora squeezes and I will it into submission as we arrive at Krisxox’s door.
I bang my fist on its sleek surface once, twice and then a third time and it opens at Krisxox’s muffled command. I wave my Rakukanna inside impatiently.
She hesitates, then proceeds, shoulder brushing my chest as she comes to an abrupt stop just inside Krisxox’s quarters. I follow her gaze to the sleeping pallets and Krisxox strewn bare across them.
“What have you done with Svera?” She says, and her voice is deeper, dusky with a hollow challenge.
“Calm yourself, Rakukanna,” I tell her, “This is Krisxox. He general of my army, responsible for battle strategy as well as training the xcleranx. Voraxia’s most formidable fighter, he has been charged with keeping your traitor contained, and apart from the other males who would wish to mount her or be near to her to determine if she is their Xiveri mate.”
My Rakukanna is fully tense. Fury radiates from her. This time, I need no ridges to interpret her feelings. “But what abouthim?He’s still…hard!”
She points to the xora protruding from his hips and I feel momentary displeasure that she would look upon him there. I calm myself knowing that it is only on behalf of her kinsman. That she does not want Krisxox. And Krisxox is disgusted by humans, as is the despicable Dra’Kesh way.
“Krisxox mates only with Voraxian and Dra’Kesh females and as you can see, two have just recently vacated his quarters.” Traveling with his females is a concession I would only allow Krisxox. A shameful habit, yet Krisxox is a male who hardly cares for concepts like honor. Duty comes first for him. Loyalty, next. And after that, there is nothing else.
My Rakukanna rounds on me, eyes blazing. “Then why is hestillhard?”
I tilt my head, inspecting my commander’s protruding xora. It is indeed as firm as she claims it to be. “It is not uncommon. Voraxian headed males with all three descended stones often need release multiple times a solar.”
“Multiple…” She whispers. Her gaze drops to my bulging xora and it moves, as if at her command. “Are you…am I supposed to…we never said how many times. Our terms. How many times do you expect me to mate with you for what you promised?”
Her vulgar question draws a lightness to the ridges above Krisxox’s brow. He is disgusted by my hybrid or perhaps by her words or both. Yet I am spared the need to slash him with my claws — or answer my Rakukanna’s perverse question — by the sound of a muted voice murmuring from Krisxox’s wet room.
“Miari? Is that you?” The traitor says.
I tense as my Rakukanna turns towards the sound of her slave name, and curse silently that Krisxox has heard it. Were he any other male, I’d steal his ears simply for the knowledge.
“Svera?” My Rakukanna wades further into the room. She crosses it, gracefully avoiding any of the room’s few objects — or the seed spilled across the floor — and her small fists patter against the back of the door. “Svera, it’s me! Open up.”
The door slides open and shut, taking my Rakukanna with it. Ignoring Krisxox’s masked stare, I cross the room and cock my ears forward so I can more easily hear the females’ discussion.
“Are you okay?” My Rakukanna asks.
There is a meek response and I recognize instantly in her tone that this human female does not possess fire equal to that of my Rakukanna, who quickly finds that the traitor’s wounds have been tended, her broken wrist easily repaired. It would have been the first thing Krisxox did. I placed the female in his care. Though he may abhor other species, it would have been a slight tometo leave her wounded.
Then the traitor says something strange. “My hair cover ripped when one of the males on the ship attacked me. Krisxox stopped them, but he wouldn’t give me a sheet to cover myself with.”
