Page 45 of Legacy for the Alien Warrior

“You made this for them?” she asked, unable to keep the wonder from her voice.

He ducked his head, the ridges along his skull darkening slightly. “It’s just some spare parts. Nothing special.”

But it was special. The care he’d put into creating something that would delight both children equally, the thoughtfulness behind the design—it spoke volumes about the male beneath the warrior’s exterior.

Something shifted in her chest, a warmth spreading outward that had nothing to do with the ship’s temperature controls.

The rest of the day passed in a comfortable rhythm. Thraxar showed them how to operate more of the ship’s systems, his patience never wavering as Talia peppered him with questions and Rory needed multiple demonstrations before trying anything new. They ate together, played together, existed together in the confined space of the ship with an ease that should have been impossible given how recently they’d met.

By evening, she found herself watching him when he wasn’t looking, studying the play of light across his patterned skin, the grace of his movements despite his size, the gentleness in his hands when he helped Rory arrange his collection of treasures.

When bedtime came, Talia fell asleep quickly, exhausted from the day’s excitement. Rory took longer, needing his usual routine of soft humming and gentle back rubs before his eyes finally closed. She sat with them until she was certain they were both deeply asleep, then slipped out to find Thraxar.

He was waiting in the corridor, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“They’re asleep?” he asked.

She nodded. “Out like lights. Your beetle toy is clutched in Rory’s hand. I don’t think he’s letting go of it anytime soon.”

His mouth curved in what she now recognized as his version of a smile. “Good. I hoped he would like it.”

“Like it? Thraxar, that’s the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given him.” She touched his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric. “You understand him in a way most people never bother to try.”

He looked away, uncomfortable with the praise. “I just paid attention.”

“That’s exactly my point.” She squeezed his arm gently. “Most people don’t.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the ship humming quietly around them.

“I should show you to my cabin,” he said finally. “You need a proper night’s rest.”

“Lead the way.”

He guided her past the lounge to a door tucked away at the end of a short corridor. She’d assumed it was some kind of storage room, but It slid open at his touch to reveal a space that was surprisingly spacious compared to the crew cabin she’d been sharing with the children.

The room was spare but comfortable—a large sleeping platform built into one wall, covered with what looked like soft animal hides; a small desk area with a chair built to accommodate his tail; shelves holding a few personal items and books. The lighting was dimmer than in the rest of the ship, casting everything in a warm amber glow.

“The environmental controls are here,” he demonstrated, showing her how to adjust the temperature and lighting. “The sanitary facility is through that door. You are welcome to any of the clothing in the storage unit.”

She took it all in, touched by his willingness to give up his personal space. “This is very generous of you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll sleep in the cockpit. If you need anything?—”

“Stay.” The word left her mouth before she could second-guess herself.

He froze, his back to her, tail suddenly rigid. “What?”

She took a deep breath. She’d been thinking about this moment all day, turning possibilities over in her mind as she watched him with the children. Life had taught her that certainty was an illusion, that safety could be snatched away in an instant. The only real security lay in connections—in the bonds between people who chose each other.

And she was choosing now.

“I want you to stay,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “With me.”

He turned slowly to face her, his expression guarded. “Kara, you don’t have to?—”

“I know I don’t have to.” She stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “That’s why I’m asking. Because I want to.”

“Want what, exactly?” His voice had dropped to a rumble that she felt more than heard.

---