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“Very well.” He nodded at Rory and she could see her son’s head drooping. After the excitement of their escape and a full meal, she wasn’t surprised. “Let me show you back to the cabin so that you may rest.”

The thought appealed to her just as much. Perhaps, safe on this ship under Thraxar’s watchful eye, she could finally rest.

CHAPTER SIX

Thraxar checked the autopilot, then made a slight adjustment to the engine thrust parameters. The ship hummed around him, a familiar melody of systems functioning in exquisite harmony. He had spent years fine-tuning every component until the vessel responded to his touch like an extension of his own body.

The quiet efficiency of his routine felt different today. The presence of two unexpected passengers had altered the atmosphere of his ship in ways he couldn’t quite define.

He caught a hint of Kara’s sweet floral scent and knew she was approaching the cockpit. His tail automatically flicked in that direction before he brought it back under control.

“Thraxar?” she asked hesitantly, and he immediately turned to face her.

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. The defensive posture wasn’t lost on him. She was no longer as relaxed as she had been during their meal.

“What can I do for you?”

“I hate to ask when you’ve already been so generous, but do you have a spare blanket? It’s for Rory—the air in the cabin is a little cool,” she added quickly.

He stiffened in irritation—not at her request, but at his own oversight.

“The environmental controls are set to Cire physiology,” he said as he rose from his seat. “An error on my part. I should have adjusted them immediately.”

“You don’t have to adjust them just for us. We can make do with a blanket.”

“You should not have to make do. I want you—both of you—to be comfortable.”

He led her to the environmental control panel near the crew quarters, and quickly adjusted the settings.

“The temperature will rise gradually over the next twenty minutes,” he explained. “You will let me know if it is not sufficient.”

“Really, we can manage with?—”

“The adjustment is trivial,” he interrupted. “And I will not be uncomfortable with a warmer temperature.”

“Then thank you.” She glanced back towards the crew cabin. “I should check on Rory.”

He followed her to the doorway of the small cabin. Her son was curled up in a corner of the bed, one hand extended into the empty space between them, his fingers twitching as if to grasp something. She immediately joined him and moved to within touching distance. His fingers closed on her wrist and he sighed and relaxed, his breathing settling into a slow, steady pace.

“He likes to have physical contact,” she said quietly as she stroked the boy’s hair. “But he wants to be the one to initiate it.”

“I understand.”

He had often felt a similar need to control his interactions with others.

“I think he likes you,” she added.

“I would be honored.”

His words were no less than the truth. He suspected the boy did not give his affection lightly. And as for his mother… His admiration for her continued to increase. She would be a worthy mate, strong, intelligent, and capable.

No. It was impossible.

He did his best to put the thought out of his mind, but when she gave him an inquisitive look, he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend more time with her.

“Would you like to see the rest of the ship?”

“Yes, please.”