“It’s beautiful,” he agreed as he adjusted their approach vector. “Beautiful and warm and peaceful.”
“You don’t sound as if you approve.”
“I don’t have much experience with that kind of peace.”
She looked at him in surprise. “But you’ve been here before?”
“A few times.” His mouth twisted in something like a wry smile. “Most of my visits involved less time admiring the scenery and more time getting out of trouble.”
“Did you get in trouble on every planet you’ve visited?”
“Only the interesting ones.”
She laughed and shook her head, shooting him a quick, affectionate glance before returning to the view of the approaching planet. Ari made a cooing sound from her lap, reaching towards the viewport with tiny silver fingers, and she smiled, adjusting her grip on the baby. “I know, sweetheart. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
The past five days had been unexpectedly peaceful. The stolen flyer was cramped but comfortable. Doren had proven surprisingly adept at creating meals from the limited supplies and the temperamental replicator, though his experiments with “human-compatible” food had produced some memorable failures. She’d established routines that seemed to comfort both the baby and herself—morning feedings and afternoon naps, evening baths in the tiny sanitation unit that left them both damp and giggling and bedtime stories in Doren’s deep voice.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, they’d started to feel like a family. She hadn’t meant for it to happen. She’d told herself to remember that this was a temporary arrangement born of necessity. But he had a way of slipping past her defenses—a joke that made her laugh despite herself, a thoughtful gesture when she least expected it, and the warmth of his body curled around hers each night.
Because yes, he’d continued sleeping beside her. Every night she’d asked, and every night he’d stayed. He’d held her through nightmares about the Ithyian ship, kissed her awake in the mornings, brought her to shuddering completion with his hands and mouth and tail more times than she could count. But he’d refused to go further, claiming she needed time, claiming he wanted her to be certain.
She was certain. She was certain that if he said “we should wait” one more time, she was going to strangle him with his own tail.
Noble idiot,she thought with equal parts exasperation and affection.
“Beginning atmospheric entry,” he announced, and the flyer shuddered slightly as they hit the outer edge of Sherae’s atmosphere. “It’ll be bumpy for a few minutes.”
She held Ari more securely, watching the viewport fill with flame as friction heated the hull. The baby watched with wide dark eyes, apparently fascinated rather than frightened by the display.
“Good girl,” she murmured. “Nothing scares you, does it?”
Ari gurgled in response, and her heart clenched. She’d known this child for little more than a week, but she loved her as if she were her own child.
The flames faded as they passed through the upper atmosphere, replaced by wisps of white cloud and then, suddenly, the stunning vista of Sherae’s surface. They were descending towards one of the larger islands, a stunning combination of lacy pink coral and cascading blooms with buildings that seemed to grow organically from the landscape, and everywhere, the sparkle of water.
“Sheraean architecture,” he explained, noticing her interest. “They don’t like to impose on the natural environment. Most of their structures are grown rather than built.”
“Grown?”
“Bioengineered coral and plant matter. It takes longer, but the results are spectacular.” He banked the flyer, giving her a better view of the peaceful city arranged around a natural harbor.
“And your friend lives here?”
“I’m not sure I would call Athtar a friend exactly, but yes, he lives here. He has a compound on the outskirts. He prefers privacy.” His mouth curved in what might have been a smile. “You’ll understand why when you meet him.”
They descended towards a structure set apart from the main settlement, perched on a cliff overlooking the sea with multiple levels that cascaded down the cliffside towards a private beach. A landing pad jutted out from the upper level, and he landed the flyer with his usual competence.
“Athtar can be... intimidating,” he said as the landing struts touched down.
“More intimidating than Grorn warriors?”
“A different kind of intimidating. But his bark is worse than his bite.” He powered down the engines and turned to look at her, his blue eyes suddenly serious. “Emma. Whatever happens here, whatever we learn—I want you to know that I’m glad you’re with me.”
Her breath caught. “I’m glad too.”
His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “And when we find someplace safe... we’re going to finish what we started. I promise.”
The heat in his eyes made her stomach flutter, and she nodded, unable to trust her voice.
