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CHAPTER ELEVEN

X ara woke to the soft chirping of the pups. Light filtered through the vine curtain in the outer cave, brighter than she’d expected. How long had she slept?

Her body felt oddly warm and secure—memories of strong arms and tendrils wrapped around her filled her head—but when she opened her eyes, she found herself alone on the bed, the pups tumbling over each other nearby.

Had she dreamed it? The nightmare, the comfort, the feeling of being held?

She pushed herself up, carefully testing her injured leg. It was less painful than she’d expected after her previous excursion so perhaps she had slept long enough to allow it to recover.

“Good morning to you too,” she murmured as Dot abandoned its siblings to climb onto her lap, its pale pink fur impossibly soft, and the silver markings along its spine pulsing gently as it nuzzled against her hand.

Her rescuer—why hadn’t she asked his name when he spoke to her?—was nowhere to be seen. Probably hunting again. He seemed to do that a lot—disappear into the jungle and return with food.

She glanced toward the cave entrance and the dappled light filtering through the vines, tempted to explore a little further, but given his warnings, perhaps it would be best to remain inside.

Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t do some investigating she decided as she noticed a passage deeper into the rock at the rear of the cave. How far did this cave system extend?

“What do you say we do a little exploring?” she asked Dot and it chirped, blinking enormous dark eyes at her.

Carefully, she set the pup down and pushed herself to her feet. Her makeshift crutch from yesterday was propped against the wall—he must have brought it back at some point—so she grabbed it, cautiously testing her weight. Her leg ached a little but it really felt much better.

“Not too far,” she promised herself. Just enough to get a better sense of her surroundings.

The three pups formed a little procession behind her as she hobbled deeper into the cave.

The main chamber narrowed into a corridor that curved gently to the left.

The natural rock formations were beautiful—glittering mineral deposits caught the light from small cracks in the ceiling, creating a subtle glow.

But something about the walls seemed... off. Too smooth in places. Too regular.

She ran her hand along one particularly flat section. Definitely not natural. Someone—or something—had carved this passage.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she murmured.

The pups chirped, scampering around her feet as she continued forward.

The passage widened again into a smaller chamber, and here the evidence of artificial construction was unmistakable.

Embedded in the far wall was what appeared to be a control panel—now dark and silent, its surface cracked and scorched.

“This isn’t just a cave,” she whispered, running her fingers over the dead panel. “It is—or was—a structure of some kind.”

Dot gave an alarmed squeak as it slipped on a loose stone, and she bent to steady it.

As she did, she noticed something glinting beneath a pile of rubble.

She carefully brushed away the debris to reveal tangled bundles of what could only be wiring—synthetic cords with metallic cores, now frayed and broken.

“This place was built. Or... carved out and modified,” she said, more to herself than the pups.

She continued her exploration, moving deeper into the network of chambers. Each revealed more signs of technology—burned-out lighting fixtures, the remains of what might have been computer terminals, scorched sections of wall where something had clearly exploded.

A base? A research station? she wondered, cataloging possibilities. Living quarters?

The pups seemed fascinated by her discoveries, particularly when she uncovered a small cache of shiny metal objects—tools, perhaps.

“Don’t eat those,” she warned as Dot attempted to nibble on something that looked like a power coupling. “Who knows what’s in them.”

She hobbled into a narrow side passage, the pups trailing behind her like ducklings. This corridor ended in a small, roughly circular chamber with a high, domed ceiling. Unlike the other rooms, this one seemed almost untouched by whatever catastrophe had damaged the rest of the facility.

In the center stood what appeared to be a pedestal or workstation, its surface dusty but intact.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she murmured, brushing away years of accumulated dust and grime.

The pups chirped excitedly, racing around the room, their bioluminescent markings flashing in patterns she was beginning to recognize as expressions of curiosity and delight.

“Stay close,” she called to them. “Don’t go wandering off.”

As if in direct defiance, the largest pup—the one with the slightly darker fur—darted toward a narrow crevice in the far wall. Before she could stop it, it had squeezed halfway through.

“Hey! No! Come back here!” she hobbled after it as quickly as her injured leg would allow, but she was too late.

The pup squeaked, its hind legs kicking frantically as it tried to push the rest of its body through the gap. But it was stuck, its pudgy middle wedged firmly in the narrow space.

“Oh no,” she groaned, dropping to her knees beside it. “What did you do, you silly thing?”

The pup’s distress calls grew more frantic. The other two pups gathered around, chirping anxiously, their markings pulsing with alarm.

She tried to reach into the crevice, but she couldn’t get a good grip on the struggling pup and she was afraid to hurt it

“Hold still,” she urged, trying to keep her voice calm despite her rising panic. “You’re just making it worse.”

The pup either didn’t understand, continuing to thrash as its cries grew more desperate.

“Please,” she whispered, her heart racing. “Please don’t hurt yourself.”

A shadow fell across her, and she froze. Then a long tendril reached past her into the crevice, and with a single, fluid motion, he extracted the struggling pup, its body sliding free with surprising ease.

He held the trembling creature for a moment, examining it for injuries, then gently placed it in her outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” she whispered, cradling the frightened pup against her chest. “I was so worried.”

For a heartbeat, his silver eyes met hers. Something shifted in that metallic gaze—a warmth she hadn’t seen before. The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but... almost.

It transformed his face, that tiny movement, making him look less fearsome and far too attractive for her peace of mind.

Her gaze dropped automatically to his mouth, remembering the way he had kissed her, as if he needed her the way she needed air to breathe.

One of his tendrils curled around the back of her neck, gently tugging her towards him.

She had no intention of resisting, eager to kiss him again, but the pup chose that moment to squeak and wriggle in her arms.

He jerked back, the tendril withdrawing as his expression returned to his usual impassive mask.

“I was just exploring,” she explained, gesturing around the chamber. “This place... it wasn’t always a cave, was it?”

He didn’t answer, and she sighed. So he was back to not speaking.

“Was this your home?” she asked softly. “Before...”

His gaze swept the room, lingering on the pedestal and the damaged technology, before he shook his head. At least it was a response.

The pup in her arms had calmed, its markings returning to their normal gentle pulse. It nuzzled against her collarbone, making a soft, contented sound. She laughed and held it up to her face.

“I’m definitely calling you Trouble.”

The other two pups were circling the male’s feet, chirping for attention, and to her surprise, he crouched down, allowing Dot to climb onto his palm. He lifted it carefully, studying its tiny face with an intensity that might have seemed threatening if not for the gentleness of his touch.

“They’re getting bigger,” she continued, filling the silence with her observations. “Stronger too. This one—” she nodded to the pup in her arms “—nearly gave me a heart attack when it got stuck, but it’s good that they’re curious. It means that they’re healthy and developing normally.”

He set Dot down and petted the middle pup before he straightened, his gaze returning to her face. He gestured firmly towards toward the entrance to the chamber—a clear indication to return to the main cave.

“I’d like to explore more,” she said, not moving. “If that’s okay. There’s so much history here.”

He seemed to consider this, his silver eyes unreadable, but he finally nodded—a small, sharp movement.

Permission granted.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her face. “I promise I’ll be careful. And I’ll keep the little ones out of trouble.”

As if to prove her wrong, Trouble squirmed free of her grasp and scampered toward another narrow opening in the wall.

“Oh no you don’t!” She lunged for it, forgetting her injured leg.

Pain shot through her as her weight came down on that leg and she stumbled forward. Strong hands caught her before she could fall, steadying her with hands and tendrils. He held her for a moment longer than necessary, his body radiating heat against her back, and she made no attempt to move away.

“Sorry,” she murmured, smiling up at him over her shoulder. “I’m still not quite steady on my feet.”

He released her slowly, as if unsure she could stand on her own. Trouble, meanwhile, had abandoned its exploration and returned to circle her ankles, chirping with what sounded remarkably like concern.

“I’m fine,” she assured it, bending carefully to stroke its soft fur. “Just clumsy.”

When she straightened again, she found him watching her with that same unreadable expression, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made her skin tingle.

“I suppose I should probably rest this leg a bit more,” she admitted. “But I’d like to come back.”

He nodded again, then gestured back the way she’d come.

“Lead the way,” she said, gathering the pups around her.

As they made their way back through the winding passages, she noticed how he matched his pace to hers, slowing when she struggled, pausing when she needed to rest. His huge body blocked most of the light from ahead, casting her in shadow, yet somehow she didn’t feel afraid.

When they reached the main chamber, he guided her to the bed, his hand hovering near her elbow but not quite touching.

“Thank you,” she said as she settled onto the soft moss. “For letting me explore. And for rescuing our little troublemaker.”

Our. The word slipped out so naturally she didn’t even notice until she saw his reaction—a slight widening of those silver eyes, a momentary stillness.

The pups scrambled onto the bed around her, their energy apparently inexhaustible. Trouble immediately began chewing on the edge of a fur.

“No, don’t eat that,” she scolded gently, redirecting it to a small pile of fruit she’d set aside earlier.

When she looked up again, he had moved over to the cave entrance, but he wasn’t leaving. Instead, he seemed to be... watching, observing her interactions with the pups with an intensity that might have been unnerving if she hadn’t glimpsed that almost-smile earlier.

“They’re a handful,” she said, smiling at him. “But worth it.”

And for just a moment—so brief she might have imagined it—the corner of his mouth twitched again. Not quite a smile. But almost.

It was enough to make her heart skip a beat.