Page 2 of Jace

It felt good to let her heart do what it was made for. She had been holding herself back for so long.

“What’s his name?” she asked the big man without taking her eyes from the child.

“It is your job to name him,” the man said stiffly. “You are his mother now.”

“Surely, he’s been called something all this time,” she said, horrified. “He’s not a newborn.”

“I call him Zeke,” the warrior murmured, the name softer in his mouth than the other words, as if it were precious.

She glanced up into those pale blue eyes again, wondering if perhaps he was more than just the delivery man for the adoption agency.

“Who did you say you were again?” she asked.

“I didn’t,” he told her. “My name is Jace. I am an Invicta warrior, and the personal guard for this child.”

“An Invicta warrior?” she echoed in amazement.

No wonder the armor looked familiar. It was in all the intergalactic children’s books. And his green hue took on new meaning now.

The Invicta were an elite force of dragon-warriors, like something from the old stories about the knights of the round table. Every child in the system knew their amazing battle tales.

She stole another glance at him, taking in the details of his armor, and the almost lazy confidence of his big body.

Though when her eyes made it back up to his face, she could see his jaw was tight.

She tried, without hope of succeeding, not to notice that he was wildly, horribly handsome.

“It is a great honor for my son to have been accompanied here by such an illustrious warrior,” she said, looking at his chest instead of his penetrating blue eyes. “We thank you and will never forget this day.”

She wasn’t sure of proper protocol, so she merely stood there without bowing.

But the beefy warrior stood his ground, in spite of what she felt was an obvious dismissal.

“I guess we should be going,” she said pointedly. “Do you have any instruction for me on how to reach our new home?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“The baby and I were given a small stipend and a large piece of farmland to work,” she explained. “It’s all part of the package from the adoption agency, so that I can raise him, and he won’t go without.”

“Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, waving one hand as if to swat away her words like flies. “You don’t need instruction. I will accompany you.”

As nice as it sounded to have another adult on the journey, if she was going to be raising this child on her own, she might as well start practicing. Honestly, she couldn’t wait to start their quiet life together.

“That’s very generous,” she said. “But it won’t be necessary. If you can share the coordinates, we’ll be fine.”

“Tails of Tamanka,” he muttered, as if to himself.

“I don’t know where you’re from,” she said. “But where I’m from you don’t laugh at a woman for caring for a child on her own. I might look a little silly in this dumb dress, but I’m perfectly capable of following directions.”

“I am not laughing,” he said in a puzzled way.

There was a line on his brow now. It reminded her so much of the baby’s expression that her upbeat nature got the best of her, and she began to laugh herself.

“Now you’re laughing,” he said, sounding more frustrated than offended.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that you looked so much like the baby for a minute.”

She glanced down at the child in her arms and realized the resemblance didn’t stop at the furrowed brow. The baby was the same shade of pale, leafy green as the big warrior.

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