Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

LILA

T he first rays of dawn fracture against the viewport, sluicing the cramped galley with a wash of sepia and grey.

I sit hunched over my bowl, stirring the nutrient paste absentmindedly. It looks like sludge, tastes worse, but it’s food. Or a facsimile thereof. Tension knits the space between us tighter than a cargo net. Yet, I can’t get that near kiss out of my mind from yesterday.

Garoth’s here, opposite me, silent as the void outside. His form is like some ancient tree, broad and unyielding, making the makeshift table seem more toy than furniture under his bulk.

Does he wonder about our almost kiss too? Or is he oblivious?

I poke at the paste, trying not to stare. Trying, and failing. There’s something about him that pulls at me — a gravity well I’m struggling not to get sucked into. Every line of his body screams strength, every glance from those dark eyes sets off alarms in my brain.

Danger, they say, but damn if I don’t want to ignore them.

“Nutrient blocks all right?” he rumbles. It’s a simple question, mundane even, but coming from him it feels like the start of something seismic.

“Unless you’ve got a stash of fresh fruit hidden somewhere,” I retort, my attempt at nonchalance probably as convincing as a two-credit counterfeit.

Garoth’s lips twitch, almost a smile in this tin-can. “Maybe I do.”

“Sure, and maybe I’m the empress of the Andromeda sector.” I roll my eyes but can’t quite suppress a smile. The orc could probably charm a black hole into spitting out light.

“Would explain the attitude,” he says, and this time the smile breaks free, lighting up his face. And even his dual tusks pulling the sides of his mouth up even higher are oddly endearing.

“Careful, or I’ll demote you to scrubbing plasma conduits when we get to Kylor,” I warn, though the heat in my cheeks gives me away.

“Promises, promises,” he chuckles, and it’s a sound that shouldn’t belong on an orc. It’s warm, rich, and it does things to my insides that I can’t quite name.

“Keep it up and you’ll find out how serious I am.” I wink, enjoying this banter between us.

“Looking forward to it,” Garoth murmurs, and there’s a promise in his words that sends a shiver down my spine. Not of fear, but anticipation.

I break eye contact first, focusing on my meal as if it holds the secrets of the universe. Because if I keep looking at him, keep getting pulled into that smoldering gaze, I might just forget all the reasons we’re supposed to be on opposing sides.

“Finish your food,” he says. “We’ve got a long day ahead.”

“Every day’s long when you’re fighting a war.” I sigh, the words heavy on my tongue.

“That’s the universe we live in.”

And as we eat our tasteless breakfast, the silence isn’t just thick—it’s alive, pulsing with the unsaid, the unacknowledged. With a desire that’s as dark and deep as the space that surrounds us.

I steal glances at him. The harsh lines of his face, usually set in a scowl or a battle-hardened mask, are softened by the faintest hint of stubble. It’s a humanizing detail on the towering orc sitting across from me.

“Your beard,” I blurt out without thinking and immediately regret it. “It’s... different.”

Garoth raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Different good or different bad?”

“Good. It suits you.” My cheeks burn with the admission, feeling the traitorous heat even through my face must surely give away my inner turmoil.

“Didn’t think humans cared for such things—at least on an orc.”

“Maybe this human does.” I clear my throat, which suddenly feels as dry as the desert planets we navigate in our quests for diplomacy.

Garoth’s hand wraps around his mug, making the whole thing look like a child’s toy. The green skin stretches tight across his knuckles, revealing a network of veins that pulse with a power I can practically feel radiating across the table. It’s a primal reminder of the warrior beneath the gruff exterior.

“Our clan are not all barbarians like your histories claim.”

My gaze shifts to him, doubt clouding my features. “But the war, the raids...” How can I reconcile the orc in front of me with the orcish war machine I’ve been trained to fear? They’re just like the warlords who take what they want.

A wry smile plays on Garoth’s lips. “War is a hungry beast, always needs more,” he says, his tone laced with a hint of bitterness. “But there’s more to us than blades and bloodshed.”

He hesitates. “We have stories,” he says softer now, a contrast to the gruff bounty hunter I met just days ago. “Stories of courage are passed down through generations. Stories of loss, and the beauty that finds a way to bloom even in the harshest wastelands.”

This glimpse into his world, so different from the one I’ve always known, sparks a curiosity within me. Could there be truth to his words? Could there be peace not just between our planets, but between the warring parts within myself?

“And what of you, Lila?” Garoth asks, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “What drives the human diplomat to traverse the stars, seeking peace in a galaxy that knows only war?”

I hesitate, searching for the truth in myself. “Balance,” I confess, my heart guiding my words. “I believe there’s harmony to be found, even amidst chaos. But sometimes... I wonder if I’m just chasing starlight.”

“Starlight is worth the chase,” he says solemnly, and something shines behind those intense eyes. “Especially when it leads to understanding... and perhaps something more.”

“Something more?” I echo, my pulse quickening.

“Peace isn’t just treaties and handshakes,” Garoth explains, leaning forward slightly. “It’s about connections, bonds... between individuals, between cultures. Even between a human and an orc.”

“Is that what we’re doing here? Making peace?” I whisper, my words are laden with the hope and doubt that wrestle within me.

“Perhaps we are.” His gaze never wavers.

“Or maybe,” I add with a smile, “we’re making something entirely new.”

“Let’s find out,” Garoth says, and a thrill goes through me.

The rest of the meal passes in a blur of spicy banter and heated glances. We clean up after ourselves, our movements practiced yet charged with a tense, electric energy. As we stand side by side, washing dishes in the tiny mess hall, I think of how far we’ve come—and how far we still have to go.

“What’s next, Garoth?” I ask in a hushed tone as if I’m afraid to jinx the fragile connection we’ve forged.

“That choice is yours, Lila.” My name on his lips sends butterflies racing in my gut. “Do you stay and continue your mission, or do you return to the safety of your world?”

I swallow hard, weighing the risk and the reward. “There’s unfinished business between my home planet Kylor and the warlords, and I vowed to see it through.”

He doesn’t respond, but his dark gaze speaks volumes.

“You won’t change my mind.” I lift my chin.

“The warlords will chew you up and spit you out.” I open my mouth to protest, but he continues, “Doesn’t matter how brave you are or rather how foolish.”

“I’m not foolish. This is the only way to save my people,” my voice catches, “humans have no homeworld and Kylor took so many of us in without complaint.”

Garoth’s expression softens, a glimmer of understanding passing through his eyes. He takes a step closer, his massive frame towering over me. Heat radiates from his body, and I smell the earthy scent that’s uniquely his.

“Your loyalty is admirable,” he rumbles, low and gravelly. “But loyalty can be a dangerous thing when misplaced.”

I shake my head, frustrated. “You don’t understand. I have to do this. For my people, for Kylor, for?—”

His hand comes up, calloused fingers gently tilting my chin upward. The touch sends a jolt through me, silencing my protests. Our eyes lock, and I see a storm of emotions swirling in his gaze — concern, admiration, and something deeper that makes my heart race.

“I understand more than you know, Lila,” he murmurs. “The fucking weight of duty, the call of honor. But sometimes...” he pauses, his thumb tracing my jawline, “sometimes there are other paths, other ways to fulfill our obligations.”

I’m frozen, caught between the pull of my mission and the magnetic draw of his presence. My breath comes quicker, and I can see his chest rising and falling rapidly too.

“Garoth, I—” I start.

Suddenly, his lips are on mine, hungry and demanding. I melt into him, reveling in the unfamiliar but oh-so-welcome sensation of his orcish frame pressing against mine. His tongue is sensual, teasing mine in a way that leaves me gasping for more.