The light was blinding, though it was dull and grey. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and when they did, she stilled, looking at what could only be described as a base around her.
It was situated within the crater. It was a concave shape, like a shallow bowl, the edges sloping gently down towards the middle. And yet, mountains towered all around her, circling the crater and beyond. It would’ve felt claustrophobic had the crater been smaller, but it was wide and spacious and surprisingly organized.
Erin was tempted to try to look at everything all at once, but it would’ve overwhelmed her. So, she deliberately slowed her flickering gaze and took it in small doses. First, she checked the tunnel they’d come down last night, the tunnel that led to those frightening creatures. It lay to the right, dark and small, and just looking at it made shivers run down her back, remembering the creatures’ calls and shrieking cries.
Next, she looked for Jaxor’an. She spied him to the left, next to a thin waterfall that floated down into a shallow pond. She looked at the water longingly, desperately wanting a bath, before she returned her gaze to the male.
Her heart thudded in her chest at the sight of him but she ignored her body’s reaction to him. He was watching her as he filled a metal bucket with the falling water, his chest and hair getting soaked from the spray. Again, she remembered howrecklesslyshe’d behaved the night before.
The waterfall was towards the west of the crater base, a fair distance that would probably take her a few minutes to reach. Once she was able to tear her eyes away from Jaxor’an, they flitted over everything that lay between them, cataloguing anything she thought she recognized.
There were crops growing to the north in rectangular planter boxes with dark, rich soil that reminded her of coffee grounds. Indigo-colored vines snaked up the north slope of the crater, almost reaching the mountain that blended seamlessly into it. There were three different crops, she surmised, based on color alone, but what did she know of Luxirian gardening?
Next to the crops, to the northwest, were a collection of chests and stockpiles of what looked like weapons or, perhaps, metal parts.
Towards the center of the crater was a large fire pit—one similar to those in the Golden City—and a metal spit with something roasting on it, the spit turning on its own.
To the east, near the tunnel, was a tanning rack with some unlucky, beige-colored creature’s hide stretched tight across it—though, admittedly, the fur looked impossibly soft. Not far away, there were two more racks laden with dangling bits of drying meat.
Erin couldn’t help but notice the plethora of lanterns and torches scattered around. At night, there would be enough light to see every inch of the base. There were also a variety of chests, though most were closed so she couldn’t deduce their purpose.
There were a few large sections of the base where she’d drawn a blank. Like the pulley system towards the tunnel entrance. Or the round metal slabs that covered the ground every so often—she counted three in total.
Lastly, she craned her neck up to the sky, which she couldn’t see. A thick fog bank hung over them, masking the tops of the mountains. She wondered if they were up high or closer to ground level. She couldn’t be certain and it was mildly disconcerting.
Jaxor’an was approaching her as she managed to navigate her way down the short incline from the cave she’d slept in. There were small, smooth, rounded stones placed like a staircase leading to and from the cave entrance. Erin eyed Jaxor’an, stopping next to a metal barrel, though she didn’t know what was inside it.
When he got close enough, she eyed the thin cut she’d made last night on his neck and swallowed. She remembered how feral he’d gotten, how intense. She remembered crouching over him, pressing the blade down, and the way he’d gripped her thigh in warning, his fingers just a whisper away from her sex.
In the light of day, Erin felt shame and confusion and longing. Because she could admit to herself, silently, that a part of her had feltsparkedlast night. She didn’t know how else to explain it. She was equally afraid and intrigued by the blaze that he might create within her.
“I’m sorry for cutting you last night,” she said quietly, holding his eyes though she wanted to shy away.
“Nix, you are not, female,” was his reply.
His words made disbelief rise in her chest and she almost sputtered as she stared at him.
“I think you wish you’d cut me a little more,” he murmured, his fingers coming up to trace the line at the base of his throat. He dropped them when he saw her looking.
“I’m trying to apologize, Jaxor’an,” she countered, already feeling her hackles rise. Whatwasit about this alien male that made her want to scream?
He stilled at her words, his eyes suddenly sharp and cutting.
“Do not call me that,” he hissed. Until he spoke, she hadn’t even realized she’d used his name for the first time.
Her cheeks burned and she said, “That is your name, isn’t it?”
“Jaxoronly,” was all he bit out before he turned from her, heading north towards his crops, the bucket of water still in his grasp. She didn’t know what to make of that.
Erin followed after him. “Whoareyou?”
He tossed her an unreadable look. His black hair dripped water from the falls as he walked and she stepped in a small puddle of it on the smooth rock slabs beneath her feet.
His crops were in a raised bed and she watched as he carefully poured water from the bucket over the nearest one, darkening the soil to a pitch black.
“Jaxor,” he said finally, moments later, watching the soil bloom and darken. “That is all you need to know.”
She didn’t know why dropping a single syllable off his name meant so much—or why his temper rose when he heard it—but what did she know of Luxirian culture? Next to nothing.
