“I am afraid so.”
They lay together in the cramped space, her head on his chest and his tail wrapped around her waist. He could hear her heartbeat, steady and strong, and feel the rise and fall of her breathing as she relaxed against him.
Mine,his instincts insisted.Mate. Protect. Keep safe.
He would. No matter what the Council tried, no matter how many ships they sent, he would keep his family safe.
Evenings meant strategy games. He pulled out the compact travel set he’d owned for years—a Cire game called Tarska that involved capturing territory while protecting your home base. The pieces were small carved stone markers, each with different movement capabilities.
“I don’t understand,” Anya said after he’d explained the rules for the third time. “So the tall piece can move anywhere but can’t capture, and the flat piece can capture but only moves one space?”
“Correct.”
“That’s confusing.”
“It is strategic. Each piece has strengths and weaknesses. Victory comes from using them in coordination.” He moved one of his markers. “For example, my tall piece blocks your advance while my flat piece threatens your home base.”
Anya studied the board with fierce concentration. “But if I move here…” She shifted one of her pieces. “Then I threaten your flat piece and you have to defend instead of attacking.”
“Excellent.” Pride warmed his chest. She learned quickly, this human daughter of his. “Now I must choose between protecting my territory or pressing my advantage.”
They played for an hour. He offered guidance when she seemed stuck but let her make her own mistakes. She lost the first game decisively, barely lost the second, and fought him to a stalemate in the third.
“You’re good at this,” he told her as they packed away the pieces. “Better than some warriors I served with who had been playing for years.”
She glowed at the praise. “Really?”
“Really. You think several moves ahead and adapt when your opponent surprises you. Those are valuable skills both in games and in life.”
“Will you teach me more? Other games and stuff?”
“Of course. We have several days of travel remaining. Plenty of time for lessons.” He hesitated, then added, “Your father wouldbe proud of you, you know. You have become strong and clever and brave.”
Her eyes went suspiciously bright. “You think so?”
“I know so. And I am honored to continue the work he began.”
She threw her arms around him in a sudden fierce hug. “Thank you for saving us. And for letting us be your family. I know we’re not related by blood or anything, but?—”
“You are my daughter.” He held her carefully, mindful of her fragile human frame. “Biology is irrelevant. You are mine to protect and guide, and I will do so for as long as you need me.”
She sniffled against his chest. “Even when I’m being an annoying teenager?”
“Especially then.”
Corinne watched them from across the cabin, her expression soft with emotion. When Anya finally pulled back and retreated to her seat, still wiping her eyes, she crossed to him.
“You’re good with her.”
“She makes it easy.” He drew her close, needing the comfort of her presence. “I worried that I had forgotten how to be a parent. That the grief had damaged something essential.”
“You didn’t forget. You just needed someone to remind you.” She rose on her toes to kiss him. “We’re lucky to have you.”
“I am the fortunate one.” He rested his forehead against hers. “You have given me back my life.”
On the fifth day, Anya beat him at Tarska.
“I won!” She stared at the board in disbelief. “I actually won.”
