Page 79 of Stars in Nova

It’d been a while since he’d been in a home, received tender attention, and had a woman watch over him, let alone spend time with children.

Samira eyed him, her head tilted. ‘You’re not used to being taken care of, are you?’

Kisan paused mid-bite, his eyes flicking to hers.

‘Not like this,’ he admitted in a gruff rasp. ‘I’m more familiar with people running the other way.’

Her mouth curved into a small smile. ‘Well, I don’t run.’

‘Nada, you don’t,’ he murmured, his voice carrying a note of something unspoken.

Samira stood and busied herself straightening the room, though her gaze returned to him often.

‘You’ll be up and out of here soon enough,’ she muttered. ‘Back to storming through caverns and terrifying the enemy.’

‘You make me sound like a bloody terror,’ Kisan rasped, his lips twitching.

She turned to him, her brow arching. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Maybe.’ He leaned back, his aqua eyes meeting hers, a flicker of humor in their depths. ‘But not to you or with you.’

An arc of unchecked emotion charged the air, and their gazes locked.

Kisan’s heart rate picked up.Fokk, she was beautiful.

The room fell into a quiet lull for a moment, the sounds of the bustling underground city fading into the background.

Samira canted her face away, and he noted the vulnerability in her face.

She was feeling this, feeling him.

He was, too, his soul finding unusual peace and rest in her intimate space, surrounded by her family.

‘Sante,’ he growled. ‘For everything.’

She shrugged, but her eyes swiveled back to his, soft, open, which sent a lurch through him. ‘You’re welcome, Rider. Now finish that bowl, or my aunt will have my head for not feeding you well.’

He chuckled and obeyed, but as the warmth of the broth seeped into him, so did the realization that Samira’s care was something he could get addicted to.

A Supernatural Essence

As Kisan began to regain his strength, the children grew bolder.

Their presence became a constant. They made sure to come by his bed after school, telling him their stories and showing him their balls, toys, art, and scribbles.

Chuffed, he treated each pronouncement and announcement with the solemnity and amazement it required.

Most days, Samira was busy overseeing her soldiers and Thalassi’s affairs. The kids, enamored with their new companion, enjoyed his attention. He, in turn, found their joy infectious and even healing.

It was clear to him that Samira’s children were the reason she fought and worked so hard daily.

Each had her dark, expressive eyes, welcoming warmth, and resilient spirit.

One which thrived in caverns’ safe spaces that she had built for her family and people amid the ruins of war.

At ten, her son Malik was full of boundless energy and mischief.

His brunette curls framed a round face still soft with the remnants of childhood, though his high cheekbones hinted at the man he would someday become.

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