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“I’m not asking about the Patrol.” She was directly in front of him now, close enough that her sweet, intoxicating scent surrounded him. “I’m asking about you.”

“Me?” The word came out as little more than a rumble.

“Yes.” She took a final step, bringing her between his knees. “You.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Kara stood before Thraxar in the dimly lit lounge, her heart hammering in her chest. He looked different in the low light—his body loomed even larger in the shadows and his eyes were pools of darkness. But despite his imposing size, there was something vulnerable in his posture, in the way his tail flicked restlessly.

“That is the third life you have saved,” she said softly. “Mine, Rory’s, and now Talia.”

His jaw tightened. “I put you both in danger by taking you to the market.”

“No.” She stepped closer, drawn by an impulse she couldn’t explain, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. “If you hadn’t been there, that child would still be in a cage. And we would still be on that asteroid.”

His massive shoulders shifted in what might have been a shrug, but his eyes remained fixed on some point beyond her. “It was the right thing to do.”

“It was brave,” she insisted. “And kind.”

Something flashed across his face—pain, perhaps, or discomfort. She recognized it immediately; it was the look ofsomeone unused to praise, someone who didn’t believe they deserved it.

“You don’t think so,” she observed.

His gaze finally met hers. “What I think doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” The words slipped out before she could consider them, but she found she meant them. This strange, solitary alien had shown more compassion to her and Rory than anyone had in years. “Something’s troubling you. Has been since we found Talia.”

He was silent for so long that she thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, rougher.

“It reminded me of something I’ve spent years trying to forget.”

She waited, giving him space to continue. The ship hummed quietly around them, the only sound besides their breathing.

“I told you my family dies,” he said finally. “What I didn’t tell you is that it was my fault.”

“I don’t believe that for a moment.”

His hands flexed against the armrests. “It’s true. It’s my fault the Red Death took my family.”

Her chest tightened. She’d suspected guilt in his past, but hearing it confirmed made her heart ache for him.

“My parents were traders, like me,” he continued, his gaze distant. “I enjoyed our travels, but I grew restless. I wanted companions my own age. I wanted to stay in one place. They agreed to let me go to Ciresia for further warrior training and insisted on taking me there. The first wave struck while we were there.”

He paused, and she could see him struggling with the memory.

“My father wanted to leave immediately. I didn’t understand the seriousness of the disease and argued against it. By the time I realized, it was too late.”

She moved closer, perching on the arm of his chair. Close enough to offer comfort, but not so close as to intrude.

“My mother and brother were the first to go…” He swallowed hard.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

“My father contracted it while caring for them. He died three days later.” His eyes were hollow with remembered pain. “I didn’t get sick. Not even a symptom. The medics couldn’t explain it. Some genetic quirk, they said.”

His tail lashed once, a sharp crack in the quiet room.

“When the quarantine was lifted, I took my father’s ship and left. I haven’t returned to Ciresia since.”