Chapter 3 #2
Goraath stared down at her, those amber eyes with their strange horizontal pupils locked on her face.
He’d caught her mid-fall like she weighed nothing.
Held her against his chest with no apparent effort.
And he wasn’t wearing a shirt again. Her palm was pressed flat against his chest. She felt the heat of him, and the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch.
Her other hand had fisted in his hair where it fell over his shoulder, thick and surprisingly soft between her fingers.
They froze. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed. His arm around her waist tightened a little, pulling her closer, and she felt the moment his gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth. Heat flooded her cheeks. Lower too, pooling in her stomach in a way that made her skin feel too tight.
His scent surrounded her… that earthy, warm smell and this close she could see the golden flecks in his amber eyes. Could see the way his pupils dilated as he looked at her.
He set her on her feet and stepped back. The cold air rushed in where his warmth had been. Her legs wobbling, she grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself.
“You should be more careful.” His voice was rougher than she’d heard it before.
“You startled me,” she said, breathless and shaky. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He turned away, jaw tight, and walked toward the kitchen without another word. She stood there, heart racing, skin still tingling where he’d touched her. Where she’d touched him.
Stop it. Stop thinking about it.
She climbed back onto the chair, carefully this time, and finished tying off the garland.
Her hands shook enough that it took three tries.
When she’d secured the knot and climbed down, he’d returned.
Dressed now, thank god. He stood near the kitchen doorway, a canteen in one hand, his expression unreadable as he stared at the garland.
“Decorating.” She gestured. “You said I could do what I want.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her. Hard. Flat.
“It’s just fabric.” Her words were defensive. “I’ll take it down when I leave.”
“The krulaati youngling need treatment.” He moved past her. “I’ll be working outside most of the day.”
Not an objection to the garland. Not approval either.
Just... nothing. She looked at her handiwork.
It looked sad. Limp brown and grey fabric hanging against dark stone.
But it was there. A tiny piece of defiance against the emptiness.
A reminder that she was still Juni Sutton, who loved Christmas and refused to let go of joy even when everything hurt.
He reappeared from the kitchen, a canteen in hand. He glanced at the garland again and she waited for him to say something. To tell her to take it down or that it looked ridiculous, or that she was being childish. He just walked to the door.
“We need supplies from town.” He didn’t look at her. “We’ll leave in an hour. Be ready.”
The transport’s cabin was too small.
Goraath kept his hands locked on the controls and his eyes on the rough terrain ahead. Fifty kilometers to the colony center. An hour’s drive through mountain passes and valley roads that would test the transport’s suspension.
An hour trapped in an enclosed space with her.
Juni sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in one of his spare thermal jackets because the mate program hadn’t sent her with proper cold-weather gear.
The jacket swallowed her frame… sleeves hanging past her hands, shoulders drooping where they should be broad.
She’d rolled the cuffs up three times and they still covered half her palms.
Too small. Everything about her was too small.
His jaw tightened. He should have prepared better and bought proper cold-weather gear before she arrived. But he’d told himself she’d be gone in six weeks, so why bother?
But that was no excuse. She was still here for six weeks. He couldn’t let her freeze in that time.
The transport hit a rut and bounced hard and she grabbed for the handle again.
“Sorry,” he rumbled. “Road’s bad through here.”
“It’s okay.”
Her voice was quiet. She’d been quiet since they’d left the ranch. There were none of the dozens of questions he’d dreaded. No humming and no attempts at conversation.
He should have been grateful.
Instead the silence felt wrong. Heavy.
His hands tightened on the controls.
The memory hit without warning—her body colliding with his, all soft curves and warmth. The shock of her palm against his bare stomach, fingers splaying across muscle. Her other hand fisting in his hair, grabbing onto him instead of pushing away.
Trusting him to hold her.
His pulse jumped and he forced his attention back to the road.
Draanth. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. How she’d felt pressed against his chest. That floral sweetness surrounding him. Three seconds, maybe four, of holding a female for the first time in years.
And his body had known exactly what it wanted to do with her.
Wrong. All of it wrong. She was human. Soft and breakable. One careless movement and he’d hurt her without meaning to.
The transport climbed a steep incline and the engine whined in protest. She shifted in her seat, pulling the jacket tighter. Her breath misted in the cold air despite the heating system running at full capacity.
“There’s an extra blanket.” He gestured to the storage compartment behind her seat.
She turned to look at him. Her hazel-green eyes caught the morning light streaming through the window. “I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I’ll warm up.”
Stubborn. Just like this morning when she’d insisted on decorating his house despite his objections.
That pathetic garland was probably still hanging in his main room. She’d braided scraps of fabric with her small hands.
False cheer, he’d called it.
Her face when he’d said that… Draanth, he hadn’t been prepared for the way her expression had crumpled, just for a second before she’d gotten it under control. Then she’d fired back about joy being a choice.
He clenched his jaw. Hard.
The road leveled out and the valley opened before them. Purple crops stretched in geometric patterns, interrupted by darker patches of grazing land. In the distance, the cluster of buildings that marked the colony center sat low against the hillside.
Almost there.
“Is that the town?” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Colony center. Not town.”
“It’s bigger than I expected.”
He glanced at her. She’d leaned forward, pressing her face close to the view port. Her expression had shifted… eyes bright, lips curved into a smile. The first genuine expression he’d seen from her since their argument.
“About two hundred permanent residents,” he heard himself say. “More during harvest when workers come in from the outer territories.”
She was listening, turned his way to give him her full attention, like the information actually mattered to her.
“Do you come into town often?”
“When necessary.”
“Which is?”
“Supplies. Council meetings.” He turned the transport onto the final stretch of road toward the main cluster of buildings. “Not often.”
“Because you don’t like people?”
The question was direct.
“No. Because I don’t need people.”
She frowned. “Everyone needs people.”
“I have my uncle.”
“One person isn’t enough.”
His jaw clenched. She was wrong. One person was plenty. He’d commanded warriors once… given orders that males followed without question because lives depended on instant obedience. But that had been different…
The transport hit another rough patch, and she braced herself against the door. Her body tilted with the motion, shoulder pressing into the cold metal panel.
His hand moved before thought caught up and he reached across the space between them, palm settling on her thigh to steady her. She was warm. Soft. The thermal fabric of her pants were thin enough that he felt the muscle tense beneath his touch.
She froze.
So did he.
The contact burned through the layers of clothing. His hand looked massive against her leg, his fingers spanning from the inside of her thigh nearly to her hip. He felt her pulse through the fabric. Fast. Racing.
He should pull back and pretend this was just a practical gesture. Nothing more than keeping her from being thrown around by the rough road. His fingers tightened instead.
Her breath caught. That small sound shot straight through him, heating blood that had no business being heated.
Then the road smoothed out.
Removing his hand, he gripped the controls with both fists. Forced his attention forward. His jaw was so tight his teeth ached.
“Thanks.” Her voice was breathless. Shaky.
He grunted. Couldn’t manage actual words. Not when his palm still burned with the imprint of her warmth. Not when every instinct screamed at him to reach for her again.
The colony center sprawled ahead. Buildings clustered together, people moving between them. He could already see faces turning toward the transport. Recognizing his vehicle. Watching.
They rolled into the main square and he headed for an open space near the supply depot to park up. Other transports were already parked… all newer models, cleaner and newer than his battered vehicle.
Several colonists stood in clusters, talking. They all turned to watch as he pulled in.
His muscles tensed.
There. By the cantina entrance. Daax with his assigned female… She was laughing at something, comfortable and animated. Nearby, Thayn walked beside another of the humans, speaking quietly. His female looked relaxed.
The other matches settling in. Finding their rhythm.
While his female sat silent beside him, shivering in his jacket.
The transport settled with a mechanical hiss. He cut the engine and the sudden silence pressed in.
Juni reached for her door release but didn’t open it. She sat with her hand on the latch, staring out at the crowd through the view port. Her throat moved as she swallowed.
Nervous. She was nervous about facing them.
The protective instinct flared hot. He should drive away before anyone got close. Before they made her feel unwelcome.
His hand flexed on the controls.
Draanthing ridiculous. They had to get out eventually.
But the urge stayed sharp. Possessive.
Mine to protect. Mine to shield. Mine.
He shoved the thought away and reached for his door release.
“Let’s get this done.”