Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

L uxor’s pulse thundered in his ears as they returned to the ship. The wound in his side burned, but the ache paled against his need to pull her close again. His tail twitched with frustrated desire. The Cire did not kiss, yet he craved the press of her lips more than he’d ever craved anything.

“You’ll feel better once the wound is bandaged.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice. They walked back toward the ship in charged silence, his tail curling protectively around her waist. The metal hull gleamed in the planet’s golden sunlight.

Carla stood in the open hatch, gripping what looked like a power coupling in one hand and a wrench in the other. Her face was pale but determined.

“Thank God.” She lowered the makeshift weapons. “We heard the roaring-”

A blur of motion cut her off as Nina burst past her. The little girl’s face was streaked with tears as she flung herself at him. He caught her automatically, ignoring the protest from his injury. Nina buried her face against his chest, tiny fingers clutching at his shirt. Her shoulders shook with hiccupping sobs.

“Shhhh, little one.”

He stroked her back soothingly, giving Felicity a helpless look. She put her arm around the child as well, murmuring reassurances.

“She was terrified.” Carla’s voice was soft. “Wouldn’t let me comfort her.”

His throat tightened. He’d spent years building walls around himself, yet this small human had slipped right through them. His tail curled around her small form as he stroked her hair.

“I am here, Nina. We are safe.”

The words felt foreign on his tongue, but her crying slowly subsided. She pulled back to study his face with those too-wise eyes, then touched the blood on his side with a trembling hand.

“It is just a scratch.” He caught her fingers gently. “Doctor Felicity will fix it.”

“Yes, I will,” Felicity said, her voice shaky. “Let’s go inside.”

He sat down on one of the bed platforms, Nina still clinging to him. Her small body trembled against his chest, and his protective instincts flared. He’d faced down mercenaries and raiders without flinching, yet this child’s distress cut through his defenses like a plasma blade.

“I need to check that wound.” Felicity pulled supplies from the ship’s med kit, but he shook his head.

“Give us a moment.”

She nodded and sat down next to him as Nina huddled against him, her breathing gradually steadying. When she sighed and shuddered, he lifted her chin to look at her face.

“Better?” When she nodded, he brushed a last tear from her cheek. “Good. Now can you wait with Carla while Doctor Felicity takes care of me?”

Those dark eyes studied his face before she nodded and slipped down.

“There is a privacy panel,” he said quietly to Felicity as she reached for the tray of supplies. “I do not wish her to be distressed by the blood.”

She nodded and pulled it closed, then sat down next to him again. Her cool fingers probed the wound with surprising gentleness. Despite the pain, his body responded to her touch. His tail coiled and uncoiled in agitation.

“Deep, but clean.” She cleaned the injury with practiced efficiency. “You’re lucky—no major vessels were hit.”

The antiseptic stung, but he focused on her movements instead. Her hands were steady and sure, displaying a skill that impressed him. When she leaned closer to apply the dermal sealant, her breath ghosted across his skin and his pulse quickened.

Her eyes flicked to his face, then down his chest. A slight flush colored her cheeks. She knew. Of course she knew—his attraction was obvious in the tightness of his muscles, the heat radiating from his skin, the way his tail curled toward her of its own accord. Not to mention the erection straining at his pants.

She cleared her throat. “Almost done.”

The final bandage slid across his skin, but her fingers didn’t retreat. They traced the edges of the dressing, skimming over his heated flesh. His breath caught at the feather-light contact.

Her palm pressed flat against his chest, and the last threads of his control snapped. His tail wrapped around her waist, drawing her closer. She gasped—a soft, breathy sound that sent fire racing through his blood.

He caught her face between his hands and crushed his mouth to hers again. Fuck, she tasted even better this time, sweet, perfect. His hands slid into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss and she responded eagerly. He was on the verge of pushing her back against the platform when Bobby said something to Carla, reminding him that the panel separating them from the others was paper-thin. He broke away, his chest heaving.

Her lips were swollen, her eyes dark with desire. She smoothed her hands over his chest one final time before leaning back.

“You need to rest.” Her voice was husky. “Doctor’s orders—stay in bed.”

His tail unwound reluctantly from her waist. He wanted to pull her back, continue what they’d started, but they weren’t alone. She trailed her fingers across his chest one last time before she rose and left.

A moment later, Nina’s dark head peeked around the curtain. When he smiled at her, she clambered onto the platform beside him.

His tail curved protectively around her small body as she settled against his chest. The trust in her eyes pierced something deep inside him. Here was this tiny human child, curling up against him without fear, when most adults flinched at his appearance.

The curtain rustled again a short time later when Felicity returned, carrying a tray of food.

“Ship’s locked down for the night.” She set the tray beside him, her smile warm. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” His voice came out rougher than intended. Nina carefully inspected the dried fruit on the tray, and he helped her select a piece.

Felicity sat down next to them, but didn’t pick up any food. Instead she looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together nervously until he placed his hand over them.

“I’m so sorry,” she blurted out. “I know you warned me not to go far from the ship. I just wanted Nina to have some fun. To feel normal for a moment. But you were right. I should have been more careful.”

“I know you did not mean any harm, t’davi.”

“I’m still sorry.” Her fingers turned beneath his hand to grasp his. “T’davi?”

The endearment had slipped out unintentionally but he found he had no wish to take it back.

“It means one who heals.”

“You mean like a doctor?”

It meant far more than physical healing but he accepted her answer.

Nina looked anxiously from his face to Felicity’s, then offered him a bite of her fruit. He pretended to accept it, nibbling at her fingers and making her giggle. The concern disappeared from her eyes, and she reached for another piece of fruit. His chest ached at her innocent joy in sharing. His own childhood meals had been formal affairs in the grand dining hall of his family’s estate. Silent except for the clink of expensive utensils against imported plates.

“You’re so good with her,” Felicity said softly as they finished their meal, and his tail twitched.

“I have not been around many children, even before the Red Death.” The words came slowly, dredging up memories he’d rather forget. “My family was very… formal.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“It was.” He shifted, careful not to disturb Nina who had dozed off against him. “I tried everything to get my parents’ attention. Broke things. Started fights. Skipped my lessons.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “All it got me was shipped off to warrior training.”

Her fingers traced one of his scars. “How old were you?”

“Twelve cycles.” He caught her hand, holding it still against his skin. “I was worse there. I questioned everything. I refused to follow rules that made no sense. I made powerful enemies among the instructors’ favorites.”

Enemies who had come back to haunt him later.

“You were just a child.”

“Not to them.” The old anger surfaced—at his parents, at the rigid system that had shaped him. “Status meant everything to them. I was the disappointment who would not fall in line.”

Nina stirred in her sleep, and his voice softened. “There was no room for fun. For connection. Everything was about duty and appearances.”

Felicity’s eyes held understanding rather than pity. “Is that why you left?”

“Part of it,” he said truthfully, but he could not bring himself to tell her the rest. “What was your childhood like?”

“Normal, I suppose. Happy enough until my mom got sick. Lauren was there to help me through it—we’ve been friends since we weren’t much older than Nina.”

“I am glad you had that. Tell me about her.”

She did, smiling reminiscently at some of their adventures. Some of them did not make sense to him but her happiness did. Her words grew softer, her head drooping against his shoulder. Her breath evened out, warm against his skin. The sweet scent of her hair filled his nostrils—so warm and alive, so different from the familiar metallic tang of the air aboard his ship.

He settled back, carefully adjusting her position so that she would be comfortable, while Nina curled tighter against his other side, one small hand resting on his chest. His tail curved over them both, an instinct he couldn’t suppress. The weight of them felt right, perfect in a way that made his chest ache.

A mate. A child. The thought blazed through him, fierce and dangerous. He’d spent years building walls around himself, determined to need no one. Yet here they were, breaking through every defense without even trying.

His fingers brushed Felicity’s cheek, tracing the scattered dots—freckles, she’d called them. So alien, yet so beautiful. She stirred but didn’t wake, snuggling closer. Nina made a small sound in her sleep and he adjusted his hold, cradling her more securely.

This could never last. He was Cire—he could not mate outside his species, no matter how right it felt.

And Felicity… she deserved better than a disgraced warrior turned trader. She deserved safety, stability. A real home for her and Nina.

Yet as sleep pulled at him, he found himself smiling. For this moment at least, they were his to protect. His to cherish.

He drifted off with that thought warming him, their combined heartbeats a lullaby he’d never known he needed.