“S’kara?”
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said. I do not take this lightly.” His black eyes held hers. “Think carefully before you decide if you want this. Want me.”
Then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him, and she was left standing in the middle of his quarters with her lips still tingling and her heart in chaos.
What have I done?
But deep down, she knew the answer. She’d taken the first step toward something terrifying and wonderful and completely impossible.
And she had absolutely no idea what came next.
CHAPTER SIX
Selik made it three steps down the corridor before the magnitude of what he’d just offered hit him with the force of a plasma blast.
I could take him.
What had he been thinking? He hadn’t raised a child in over two decades. He’d failed the last one. He’d failed his mate. He’d failed his entire family when he’d left them in response to a Council order. By the time he’d received word and made it home, there was nothing left but ash and memories. Perhaps it wouldn’t have made any difference if he’d been there, but the thought of them dying alone still haunted him.
His hands clenched into fists as he walked, his tail lashing behind him in agitation. The corridor was empty at this late hour, the ship operating on minimal crew during the sleep cycle. Good. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. He didn’t want to maintain the carefully constructed facade of the stoic commander when his insides felt like they’d been torn apart and reassembled wrong.
He’d held that infant in his arms and felt something he’d thought dead for twenty years.
Hope.
It was terrifying. Hope meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant pain. He’d vowed never to feel that vulnerable again. Never to care that deeply. Never to hope.
But then a small human female had stumbled into him on a desert planet, fierce and terrified and protecting two children with nothing but sheer force of will. And something in his chest that had been frozen solid for twelve years had started to crack.
Corinne.
Even thinking her name sent heat through his veins. His body’s response to her was undeniable and impossible in equal measure. Every Cire knew that mating bonds only formed between Cire males and females. It was a biological fact, written into their very DNA. Without a compatible female, a male couldn’t achieve full sexual release. Theoretically they could become erect, they could even ejaculate, but they couldn’t knot and they couldn’t achieve full completion. He’d encountered many females in the course of his duties since leaving Ciresia, but no female had ever even tempted him before.
But Corinne’s scent drove him mad with need. The feel of her soft curves pressed against him made him want to claim and possess and protect all at once. And when he’d kissed her, tasted her, felt her respond to his touch with that breathy little gasp…
He’d been fully, achingly erect. His body didn’t seem to care about biology or facts or anything except the overwhelming need to make her his. He’d been unable to stop touching her, unable to maintain any semblance of control. Even now, walking awayfrom his quarters, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back. To finish what they’d started. To peel that oversized shirt off her soft body and learn every curve, every sensitive spot, every sound she made when he touched her.
Focus.
He forced himself to keep walking, letting his feet carry him to the only place on the ship where he could work out this restless energy—the training room.
He’d spent countless hours here over the years, pushing his body past its limits, trying to outrun grief and guilt and the crushing weight of survivor’s remorse. Tonight felt different. Tonight he wasn’t trying to run from the past as much as move towards the future.
He stripped off his tunic and selected a training staff from the wall rack. The weight felt good in his hands, solid and familiar. He moved through the first forms automatically, muscle memory taking over as his mind worked through the impossible situation he’d gotten himself into.
I could take him.
The words kept echoing through his thoughts. He’d offered to raise Mikoz, to give the infant a home and a future. It was insane. It was reckless. But it would give him a reason to live rather than just exist. It would force him to build something instead of just protecting what little remained. And perhaps it would help heal the wound that Lira’s death had left in his soul.
But could he do it? Could he open himself up to that kind of loss again?
He spun the staff, bringing it down in a vicious arc that would have shattered bone if it had connected with anything other than air. The movement flowed into the next form, then the next, his body finding a rhythm as his mind spiraled.
Kessa’s face suddenly appeared in his mind. They’d been friends since they were children, and had known for most of their lives that they would be together. Would she want this for him? Would she want him to take in an orphaned infant and try again at something resembling family?
He knew the answer immediately. Kessa had loved children. She’d wanted more after Lira, but complications during the birth had made that impossible. She would have taken Mikoz in without hesitation. She would have loved him fiercely and completely, just as she’d loved their daughter. And she would have wanted Selik to be happy.
