Page 24 of Willow and the Wraith

Wraith released her hand immediately, putting several paces between them as the old male took in the scene. The only sign of the elder’s amusement was the slightly quirked brow and the amused glint in his eye.

“No,” he snapped. “What do you want?”

“Just to tell you that the flux capacitor is back online.” A smile creased Malacar’s wrinkled face as he waved an airy hand. “You can go back to whatever you were doing.”

“We were training.”

But it was too late. The old male had already left and they were alone again. What had he been thinking, offering to train her? He’d let his guard down, allowed emotions to cloud his judgment. Emotions he couldn’t even name. He was a hunter, a predator. Not some soft-hearted fool swayed by a gentle smile and warm eyes.

The weight of his past pressed down on him, urging him to retreat into the familiar comfort of isolation. He would harden his resolve, rebuild the walls she’d somehow managed to breach. It was the only way.

“This was a bad idea.”

“Was it?” she asked quietly.

“Yes. I am no teacher. And you require too much training.”

He knew the words were unfair, but he couldn’t help himself. They hung between them for a heartbeat. Two. Her expression crumbled, her shoulders slumping, and he felt like the worst sort of bastard.

“I see.”

He wanted to apologize, to take the words back, but old habits died hard. So instead he nodded brusquely and strode out of the training room, trying to ignore the way his chest ached at the look on her face.

Going straight to the cockpit he buried himself in work, scanning the data he’d gathered and carefully plotting the course he would take after he had delivered Willow to Farlain. Malacar had admitted that Ceres Prime had been nothing but a ruse so he’d returned to analyzing the data drive.

He ignored the hollow feeling in his chest at the thought of leaving her behind, refused to think about the way her lips had felt against his, the way her small body had molded to his.

It was several hours before he finally had the course plotted. He knew he should get up, should check on the ship, but he remained in his seat, staring out into the vast emptiness of space. He’d never felt so alone.

The sensation wasn’t new, but the bitter ache that came with it was.

“Wraith?”

He started at the sound of his name, annoyed that he’d been too distracted to notice her approach. The cockpit was in darkness, her small figure silhouetted against the corridor lights.

“Yes?”

He sat up a little straighter as she approached, but he didn’t rise. He didn’t trust his body.

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

“I think I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. It was… inappropriate. And I’ve obviously made you uncomfortable.”

She thought she’d made him uncomfortable? She wasn’t wrong, but it was hardly her fault.

“I believe I was the one who kissed you,” he said stiffly.

“Only because I was leaning in to kiss you,” she argued, then gave a soft laugh. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I just hope we can put it behind us.”

Perversely annoyed that she was trying to do the same thing he’d been trying to do all day, he raised a mocking brow.

“Is that really what you want, little human? To put it behind us? No more kissing? No more touching?”

He knew he was being an idiot but he couldn’t stop himself, his voice a soft, provocative purr.

To his surprise, she stiffened at his words.

“What I want is none of your business. But since you keep pushing me away, it seems like a good idea.”

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