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“What?” She looked genuinely confused for a moment before understanding dawned. “Oh! No, that’s not—” A flush colored her cheeks. “I don’t regret anything that happened between us.”

He blinked, thrown off his carefully prepared speech. “Then why do you look so tired?”

She laughed softly. “Try sharing a narrow bunk with two children. Rory kicks in his sleep, and Talia somehow manages to take up more space than should be physically possible.”

Relief and something warmer flooded through him. “You should have said something. I could have arranged alternative sleeping arrangements.”

“It was late, and they were already settled.” She shrugged. “I’ve managed with worse.”

He frowned, not liking the reminder of what she’d endured.

“You can use my cabin. I’ll sleep here.” When her expression shifted to something he couldn’t read, he added, “The cockpit seat reclines fully. It’s quite comfortable.”

“I wasn’t—” She stopped and shook her head with a small smile. “Thank you.”

The children’s voices drifted up from below, saving him from having to decipher her tone. She glanced over her shoulder.

“I should check on them. Talia was having some trouble with the sanitation unit last night.”

“Wait.” He hesitated. “We need to discuss what to do about her.”

Her expression immediately softened. “I know. She told me a little last night. Her mother is dead—has been for some time. Apparently her mother told her that her father died before she was born.”

“Does she know where she’s from? Any family?”

“She said they moved around a lot. I don’t think she has anyone else.”

The unspoken question hung between them: what happens to her now?

He considered their options, tail swishing thoughtfully. “I have a contact—Elrin. He’s a scholar, but he’s also connected to various refugee networks. He might know of her species, perhaps even her people.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

He met her gaze steadily. “Then we’ll figure something out. I won’t abandon her to another Wren Dox.”

Relief softened her features. “How far is it to where your friend lives?”

“Two, perhaps three days’ journey.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry for the additional delay in reaching the Patrol station.”

“I don’t mind,” she said softly, and something in her tone made his heart beat faster.

Before he could respond, Rory appeared behind her, tugging at her shirt, and she turned to him with a smile. “Yes, breakfast time. Let’s go see what we can find.”

As they disappeared down the corridor, he sat motionless for several moments. Then he shook himself and began plotting a new course to Verdun. The familiar task grounded him, pushing aside the confusing tangle of emotions that threatened to overwhelm his usual discipline.

By the time he finished and made his way to the galley, she had managed to scrounge up some nutrition bars for herself and the children.

“Those are emergency rations,” he said, frowning. “Let me prepare something more substantial.”

He moved to the food preparation unit, keenly aware of their eyes on him as he assembled ingredients. The domesticity of the moment struck him with unexpected force—preparing a meal for Kara and the children, as if they were his family. The thoughtshould have triggered the familiar guilt and pain, but somehow, after sharing his past with Kara, the ache had dulled.

“Can I help?”

The small voice startled him. Talia stood at his side, her translucent ears shifting from lavender to a hopeful blue-green.

He glanced at Kara, who nodded encouragingly.

“Of course,” he said, surprised at how easily the words came. “Here, you can mix these together.”