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CHAPTER NINETEEN

K ara stood at the viewport, watching Verdun grow larger as they approached.

Unlike the barren asteroid she’d been trapped on, this world bloomed with verdant color—oceans of deep azure, sprawling forests in shades of emerald and jade, and patches of what appeared to be farmland in geometric patterns.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, pressing her palm against the cool surface of the viewport.

Thraxar’s reflection appeared behind her, his dark eyes meeting hers in the transparent surface. “Elrin chose well. The Trevelor are an agricultural people. They value peace and stability.”

Peace. The word settled in her chest like a warm stone. These past days aboard Thraxar’s ship had been the most peaceful she’d known since before her abduction. Maybe even before that.

Rory and Talia sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, engrossed in the mechanical toys Thraxar had built for them.

Rory had arranged a series of small objects in a semicircle around them—nuts, bolts, a piece of wire bent into a spiral.

Talia was carefully mimicking his pattern on her side, her translucent ears flushed pink with concentration.

Her chest tightened. They fit together, these two damaged children. Rory had never connected with another child before Talia. And Talia, who’d known nothing but cruelty and confinement, blossomed a little more each day under their care.

The thought of giving her up felt like contemplating the amputation of a limb.

“What are you thinking?” Thraxar’s voice rumbled low beside her, for her ears alone.

She turned to face him, studying the strong lines of his face, the ridges that swept back from his forehead, the dark eyes that saw her so clearly.

“I don’t want to let her go,” she admitted softly. “I know we need to find her people, but…”

His tail curled around her wrist, a gesture that had become familiar and comforting. “I know.”

“And I don’t want to leave you either,” she added, her voice barely audible.

His expression softened. “Then don’t.”

Before she could respond, the ship’s system chimed, announcing their imminent landing. He squeezed her hand once before moving to the control panel.

She turned to the children. “Time to get ready. We’re landing soon.”

Rory looked up, his fingers still tracing the edge of a gear. “Garden?” he asked.

“Yes, there will be a garden,” she confirmed, smiling at his memory. Thraxar had mentioned it only once, yet Rory had latched onto the detail.

Talia’s ears flickered, shifting to a questioning blue. “What’s a garden?”

Her heart ached. Such a simple thing, yet unknown to a child who’d spent her short life as a captive. “It’s a place where plants grow—flowers and trees and food. You’ll see soon.”

The landing was smooth, Thraxar’s skilled hands guiding the ship down with barely a tremor. As the engines powered down, she helped the children prepare, brushing Talia’s hair and straightening Rory’s clothes—garments she had fashioned from Thraxar’s donated clothing.

He appeared in the doorway, his massive frame filling the space. “Ready?”

She nodded, taking a child’s hand in each of hers. “As we’ll ever be.”

The air that greeted them as the hatch opened was unlike anything she had breathed in years. Rich with the scent of growing things, untainted by industrial chemicals or the stink of unwashed bodies. She inhaled deeply, feeling something tight in her chest loosen.

They walked down a winding path bordered by flowering shrubs. Talia gasped at each new bloom, her ears shifting through a kaleidoscope of delighted colors. Rory was quieter but equally entranced, stopping to examine the pattern of veins in a broad leaf.

The settlement was small but orderly, with rounded structures that seemed to grow from the landscape rather than impose upon it. Beings moved about with unhurried purpose—all of them similar to Elrin, though with different coloration in their feathered crests.

“They’re staring,” Kara murmured to Thraxar, noticing the curious glances directed their way.

“They rarely see outsiders,” he explained. “But they’re not hostile—just curious.”

She nodded, forcing herself to relax. After months of constant vigilance, it was hard to believe in safety.

Elrin’s dwelling sat apart from the others, nestled against the edge of a forest. Unlike the sterile functionality of the mining settlement or the cramped quarters of Thraxar’s ship, this place had been designed for comfort and beauty.

The house itself was modest—a dome-shaped structure with large windows and a wide porch.

But the garden that surrounded it was extraordinary.

Plants of all descriptions grew in seemingly wild profusion, yet Kara could discern an underlying order to the chaos.

Stone pathways wound through beds of flowers and herbs.

Fruit-bearing vines climbed trellises, heavy with ripening produce.

“Thraxar! You’ve returned earlier than expected.”

The voice came from the porch, where an elderly Treveloran stood watching their approach. His feathered crest gleamed in shades of orange and gold, and his beak-like nose twitched with evident pleasure.

“Elrin.” Thraxar inclined his head. “I hope we’re not intruding.”

“Nonsense. Your visits are always welcome, infrequent as they are.” Elrin’s gaze shifted to her and the children, his eyes widening slightly before his expression settled into one of gentle interest. “And you’ve brought guests. How unusual.”

She studied the older male, noting the warmth in his eyes and the genuine pleasure with which he greeted Thraxar. There was history between them—friendship, even if Thraxar seemed reluctant to acknowledge it.

“This is Kara,” Thraxar said, his tail curling briefly around her waist. “And the children, Rory and Talia.”

Elrin descended the steps with surprising grace for one who moved so deliberately. He stopped before them, bowing slightly. “Welcome to my home. Any friends of Thraxar are friends of mine.”

“Thank you for having us,” she replied, bowing in return.

Elrin’s gaze lingered on Talia, his expression softening further. “A Lumiri child,” he murmured. “How extraordinary.”

Talia pressed against Kara’s leg, suddenly shy.

“We have much to discuss,” Thraxar said, his voice carrying a seriousness that made her look up sharply.

Elrin nodded. “Indeed.” He turned to her with a gentle smile. “Perhaps the children would enjoy exploring the garden while we talk? There’s a small pond with fish that might interest them.”

She hesitated, instinctively reluctant to let the children out of her sight.

“It’s safe here,” Thraxar assured her, understanding her concern without her needing to voice it. “No one will harm them.”

She nodded, though it took effort to override years of protective vigilance. “Would you like to see the garden?” she asked the children.

Rory was already eyeing a patch of wildflowers where insects hovered. Talia looked uncertain but curious.

“We’ll stay where you can see us,” she promised Thraxar.

He nodded, his expression grave but trusting.

Elrin led Thraxar into the house while she guided the children along one of the stone paths. The garden was even more impressive up close. Dozens of varieties of plants grew side by side, creating a harmonious blend of textures and colors.

“Look,” she pointed to a cluster of flowers whose petals opened and closed in a rhythmic pattern. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

Talia’s ears flushed with delight, while Rory crouched to examine the pattern of the movements.

They continued their exploration, discovering the promised pond where iridescent fish darted among lily pads. Rory settled at the edge, mesmerized by the fish’s movements. Talia dipped her fingers in the water, giggling when the fish came to investigate.

She perched on a nearby bench, keeping the children in view while allowing them space to explore.

From here, she could also see into the house through a large window.

Thraxar and Elrin sat at a table, deep in conversation.

Thraxar’s expression was more animated than usual, his hands gesturing as he spoke.

The sight warmed her. In the days since they’d become intimate, she’d seen more and more glimpses of the being beneath his stoic exterior. Passionate, thoughtful, capable of great tenderness. The way he’d embraced Rory’s differences without question. The patience he showed with Talia’s fears.

She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

When they’d first boarded his ship, she’d seen him as merely a means of escape. Then as a potential ally. Now…now he was essential. Not just to her safety, but to her happiness. To her heart.

And what of Talia? The child had already suffered abandonment and abuse. How could they consider separating her from the only security she’d known?

Yet what right did she have to keep her? If Talia had family searching for her…

Rory distracted her from her thoughts as he raced over to her. He held up a small stone, smooth and round, gleaming with flecks of silver in the sunlight.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, admiring it, and he pressed it into her hand. Her throat tightened. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Talia appeared at her side, holding a flower with petals that shifted color like her ears.

“For you too,” she said, clearly mimicking Rory’s actions.

She accepted it with equal gravity. “Thank you, Talia. It’s perfect.”

The little girl beamed, her ears flushing a pleased pink.

As the children returned to their explorations, her gaze drifted back to the window. Elrin was showing Thraxar something on a data pad, their heads bent close together. Thraxar’s expression had grown serious again, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Whatever they were discussing, it was important. Part of her chafed at being excluded, but she understood the need to shield the children from adult concerns until decisions had been made.

The garden’s tranquility worked its magic on her frayed nerves. After months of constant vigilance, the simple act of sitting in the sunshine while the children played felt like an unimaginable luxury.

This place represented everything she’d thought forever lost—safety, beauty, the freedom to simply exist without fear. The kind of place where children could grow and thrive.

A home.

The word caught in her mind. Home had been an abstract concept for so long—a memory, a dream, but never a reality within reach.

Now, watching Rory arrange stones in a spiral pattern while Talia carefully placed flowers between them, she allowed herself to imagine a future. Not on Earth—that was too far away, too much a part of her past. But somewhere like this. Somewhere they could put down roots.

With Thraxar.

The thought no longer frightened her. Somehow, in the space of mere days, the solitary warrior had become central to her vision of the future. His strength, his unexpected gentleness, the way he looked at her as if she were precious beyond measure.

The way he’d welcomed her son without reservation.

The door to the house opened, and Thraxar emerged, followed by Elrin. Their expressions were solemn but not grim. Thraxar’s eyes found hers immediately, and something in his gaze made her heart quicken.

Whatever they had discussed, it would change things. She could feel it.

She called the children to her side, suddenly needing their solid presence. Rory came immediately, Talia a step behind him.

As Thraxar and Elrin approached, she drew a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever came next. Whatever it was, they would face it together—all four of them.

The thought steadied her. No longer alone. No longer solely responsible for their survival.

For the first time in years, she had a partner. Someone to share the burden. Someone who saw her—truly saw her—and valued what he saw.