“Maybe he just wants companionship,” she said, aiming for pragmatism and landing somewhere closer to desperation. “Partnership without the biological component. That’s still valid.”
“Maybe.” Anya didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe the database is wrong. You’re always saying that cultural information gets filtered through observer bias. Maybe the Cire think they can only bond with other Cire, but it’s not actually true.”
“Maybe.”
But doubt had taken root now, spreading through her thoughts like poison. What if she was setting herself up for heartbreak by hoping for something that couldn’t exist?
“I need to stop overthinking this,” she said aloud.
“Good luck with that.” Anya returned to her reading, but her expression remained thoughtful. “For what it’s worth, he looks at you like you hung the moon. I don’t know if that’s mating bond stuff or just regular attraction, but it’s definitely something.”
Something.Such an inadequate word for the electricity that arced between them whenever they were in the same room, for the way her pulse jumped when he touched her, for the heat that pooled low in her belly when his tail curled possessively around her waist.
She needed to talk to him. Needed to understand what was happening between them and what was possible. Needed to know if she was building a future or just clinging to a fantasy.
But first, she had a language lesson to finish and a baby to care for and a teenager to educate. Reality didn’t pause for an emotional crisis.
She put Mikoz down on the floor for some exercise time and returned to her data pad, forcing herself to focus on the swimming symbols of Galactic Standard. Anya plugged into her own study materials with the intensity of someone trying to outrun her own thoughts. They worked in companionable silence, the soft sounds of Mikoz’s babbling providing a gentle rhythm to their concentration.
An hour later, the door chimed again.
This time it was Selik, still in his black uniform but with his tail moving in that relaxed pattern that meant he was off-duty and content. His eyes found her immediately, that black gaze warming in a way that made her skin prickle with awareness.
“I heard Tarak delivered the materials,” he said.
“He did. Thank you.” She stood, smoothing down her shirt self-consciously. “Anya’s already buried in advanced physics. I think you might have created a monster.”
“A well-educated monster is preferable to an ignorant one.” He moved into the room with that predatory grace she found simultaneously unsettling and attractive. “Tarak also mentioned you’re interested in self-defense training.”
“If you have time to teach us.”
“I cleared my schedule.” His gaze swept over her, assessing. “We can start today if you wish. Unless you’re too tired.”
She was tired, but she was also restless, edgy with unspent energy and too many thoughts chasing through her mind.
“Today works,” she said. “Anya?”
The girl looked up from her data pad, wariness flickering across her face. “You want me to learn how to fight?”
“I want you to learn how to protect yourself,” he corrected. “There is a difference. Fighting is about aggression and dominance. Protection is about survival and escape.”
“What if I don’t want to learn?”
“Then you do not have to.” His tone remained gentle. “But knowledge is power. Even if you never need these skills, having them will make you more confident and less afraid.”
Anya chewed her lip, considering. Finally she nodded. “Okay. But if you try to make me do push-ups or run laps, I’m out.”
“Noted.”
The training facility was smaller than she expected—a converted cargo bay with padded floors and walls lined with equipment she didn’t recognize. Selik had changed into lighter clothing that showed off the powerful musculature of his arms and legs, and she tried very hard not to stare at the way his shoulders moved beneath the thin fabric.
Anya elbowed her. “You’re drooling.”
“I am not.”
“You’re definitely drooling.”
Selik’s tail twitched with amusement, but he didn’t comment. Instead he gestured them to the center of the mat.
