But it wasn’t going the way he’d imagined. He’d often thought what it would be like to find his fated mate. In all his arrogance, he’d never imagined a scenario where his female could hardly stand to look at him.
As if hearing his thoughts, her gaze darted away again and Cruxan tried not to feel disappointed…or rejected.
She needs time, he told himself, his shoulders going back. She was frightened, stolen away from a place she’d deemed safe, into the wilds of Luxiria at night with a male she didn’t know. A Luxirian female would have accepted what had happened, but a human female wouldn’t understand. Not yet.
“And…” she trailed off, her voice going small again before she cleared her throat. “You’re, like, a tracker? A hunter? What do you do here, um, on this planet?”
His brow cocked. He frowned, though his chest felt suddenly very warm. Because if he didn’t know any better, his female was trying to make conversation with him, as stilted as it was.
“I am an Ambassador to the Prime Leader,” he told her slowly.
“An Ambassador?” she asked, her voice sounding surprised, her spine straightening. “You’reone of them?”
He inclined his head, watching her reaction, torn between feeling incredibly amused or insulted by her incredulousness.
“So, you really did come all the way here to bring us back?” she asked, her tone filled with…hope.
Fates, this female was maddening.
“You still doubt that?” he asked, frowning, snapping a dried vine between his fingertips before adding it to the fire. He watched the flames eat it up.
“No,” she said quickly before biting her lip. “I mean…I don’t know.”
Her luminous green gaze dropped into her lap and then she seemed startled when she saw the dagger lying there, as if she’d forgotten all about it. Cruxan watched her, equal parts fascinated and frustrated by the small, maddening creature in front of him. He couldn’t understand her, couldn’t get a read on her. And Cruxan had always read females well. He knew how to comfort them, knew how to make them feel at ease, knew all the right things to say to them.
He was failing miserably at all three of those things right then and he didn’t know why.
But with his fated female, the most important female in his life now—the reality of which was just now starting to sink in—he felt like an incompetent fool. And it was only their first night together.
As he watched her reach a hand out to touch the hilt of the dagger, he realized, for the first time that evening, that he would never mate another female but her again. He would never touch, never pleasure, never share a sleeping platform with another but her.
Even if she decides to leave, his mind taunted him. Because his Instinct, his soul, would always be with her. To mate another after his Instinct had been awakened…it would tear him apart.
Vrax.
Cruxan didn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than a few spans without bedding a female. He enjoyed sex, females enjoyed it with him, and there was never anything wrong with that. At times, one of his pleasure partners became too attached and he would need to gently extricate himself. But he’d always been upfront about his intentions in the beginning with his pleasure partners. They knew there were others. They knew there was no future. They knew Cruxan didn’t want anything more. And up until humans were discovered recently, he knew there’d been no possibility for offspring.
But now…
Everything was different.
He didn’t know how he felt about that yet. While any Luxirian male would be insane not to want a fated mate, Cruxan had to admit that he’d had trouble envisioning life with a single female before this.
Cruxan blew out a silent breath, his shoulders suddenly tense. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He oversaw the roughest outpost in Luxiria, he constantly traveled, and he didn’t know what he could offer a female beyond a good, rough, satisfying night beneath the furs. What business did he have with a fated mate? Ahumanfated mate, who looked about ready to jump out of her skin when she touched the sharpened dagger, though she’d been the one to demand it.
Skittishprivixi, indeed.
Unease made his neck prickle and he rubbed his rough palm over it.
“You should rest,” he repeated, his words coming out more gruffly than he’d intended. “I will take watch for the night. You will be safe.”
Chapter Eight
Crystal jolted from sleep as if she was falling, flailing her leg out before pushing up from the cold, hard ground almost sheepishly.
Immediately, her eyes went across the now-dead fire to the Luxirian Ambassador—Cruxan.
He was watching her as he covered up evidence of the fire he’d built. It was probably what had woken her, but she was surprised to see the peach and grey streaks in the sky above them. In the near distance, she heard a cry echo around the forest. Like a bird…if that bird’s call was guttural and trilling and deep. She’d slept surprisingly soundly since she’d passed out the night before.
