Family.Another word that wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She’d lost so much—her husband, her old life, her sense of safety in a universe she’d thought she understood. But she’d gained something too. These people who’d come into her life through tragedy and terror and somehow become the center of her world.
Anya, prickly and brave and slowly learning to trust again. Mikoz, small and vulnerable and entirely dependent on her protection. And Selik, solid and steady and offering her a future she’d never imagined wanting.
“I choose you,” she whispered, echoing the words from the training room. “All of you. For however long we have.”
“Then you will have me for the rest of our lives.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, the gesture so tender it made her throat tight. “Sleep now, s’kara. I will keep watch.”
The combination of his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the emotional exhaustion of the past hour finally pulled her under. Her eyes drifted closed and she let herself sink into the comfort of his embrace, trusting him to wake her if Mikoz needed her.
She didn’t dream. There was only warmth and safety and the deep knowledge that whatever came next, she wouldn’t face it alone.
When she finally woke, it was to the gentle pressure of Selik’s hand on her shoulder and his quiet voice saying her name. She blinked up at him, disoriented, taking a moment to remember where she was.
Med bay. Mikoz. The fever.
She jerked upright, heart hammering, and looked down at the baby in her arms. He was awake, blinking up at her with clear eyes, the glassy quality from before completely gone. His skin felt normal temperature beneath her palm and his breathing sounded easy and unlabored.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she whispered, voice rough from sleep. “How are you feeling?”
He made a small sound—not distressed, just conversational—and wrapped his tiny hand around her finger with his usual surprising strength. Relief crashed over her so hard it stole her breath.
“He is much improved,” Bombaya said from somewhere behind her. “The fever has broken completely and his respiratory function has returned to normal. I would like to keep him here for a few more hours to ensure the infection is fully under control, but he should be able to return to your quarters by morning.”
“Thank you.” The words felt inadequate for the magnitude of what he’d done, but they were all she had. “Thank you so much.”
The doctor nodded, something that might have been a smile crossing his alien features. “It is my job. And my pleasure, when the patients are so cooperative.” He glanced at Mikoz, who was now staring around the med bay with the curiosity of a healthy infant. “He is strong. Takes after his parents.”
She opened her mouth to correct him, to explain that she wasn’t really Mikoz’s mother, that she was just someone who’d made a promise. But the words died in her throat because they would have been a lie. She was his mother in every way that mattered. Biology be damned.
“Yes,” she said instead, pulling the baby closer. “He certainly does.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
By the start of the morning shift Bombaya pronounced Mikoz well enough to return to their quarters. Selik accompanied them, then advised them to rest before reluctantly leaving to resume his duties. His thoughts kept returning to them and he stopped by later that day, ostensibly to check on Mikoz’s recovery but really just wanting to be near them. Corinne answered the door with a huge smile on her face.
“You have to see this,” she said, pulling him inside with barely contained excitement.
His quarters had been rearranged slightly and the furniture pushed back to create an open space in the center of the room. Anya sat cross-legged on the floor, watching Mikoz with an equally excited smile.
The infant stood—actually stood on his own two feet—in the middle of the cleared area, wobbling slightly but maintaining his balance with determination that seemed far too advanced for a ten-month-old.
“Watch,” Corinne whispered.
Mikoz took a step, his tail automatically counteracting the motion. Then another. His movements were unsteady and clearly required intense concentration, but he managed three full steps before his balance wavered and he sat down hard on his bottom.
Instead of crying at the unexpected descent, he made a triumphant sound and immediately crawled over to the couch and began trying to pull himself back up again.
“He’s been doing this for the past hour,” Anya said, voice filled with wonder. “He just keeps trying over and over.”
Walking.Mikoz was walking, or at least attempting the skill with the single-minded focus of infants everywhere. The fact that it was happening now, after everything that had happened the previous night, felt like the universe’s way of saying the crisis had passed and life would continue.
“That’s incredible,” he said roughly, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice.
“Right?” Corinne’s eyes shone with proud tears. “He wasn’t even trying before yesterday, and now suddenly he’s determined to be mobile.”
They watched together as Mikoz pulled himself upright again and took another few wobbly steps before sitting down. Each attempt brought the same triumphant sound, the same immediate determination to try again.
“Come here, buddy,” Anya called, holding out her arms. “You can do it.”
