Chapter 11 #2
He filled the doorway, the quiff of his orange hair almost brushing the top of the frame. He was back in his uniform, the leather emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders, but his face was open as his golden gaze locked onto her.
He moved toward her like he owned every inch of space between them.
"How is she doing?" Kirr's gaze flicked from Delilah's monitors to Harper's face. He stopped beside her chair, his hand settling on her shoulder. The weight of it was grounding. Solid.
She looked up at him, unable to keep the grin off her face. "She's getting better. Kellat says he might be able to wake her up soon."
She stood up, needing to move, needing to do something with the nervous energy buzzing under her skin. She bounced on the balls of her feet. "She's going to make it, Kirr. She's actually going to make it."
Kirr's expression softened, the lines around his eyes smoothing out. "That’s great news. I know you were worried."
"You have no idea." A laugh escaped her. "I thought... I really thought I'd lost her."
"You haven't." His thumb swept over the curve of her shoulder, a possessive, comforting touch. "Not while I'm on this station."
She giggled. “What, are you going to personally intimidate the universe into leaving me alone or something?”
Kellat sighed and shot her a look. “Don’t give him ideas. That is a male who doesn’t give a draanth about impossibilities.”
Kirr grinned. “You’d better believe it, healer.”
Then he looked down at her. "I have something for you."
Harper blinked, the sudden shift in topic catching her off guard. "For me?"
He shifted his weight, looking... almost awkward?
Which would have been odd on a nearly seven-foot alien warrior who could probably kill a room full of mercenaries without breaking a sweat, if it weren’t so cute.
Which would also not have been her first description of a seven-foot alien warrior, but there they were.
He reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out something small, holding it in his closed fist for a moment before offering it to her.
"A gift," he muttered, looking anywhere but at her face. "For safety. And... because I wanted you to have it."
He opened his hand.
Resting in the middle of his calloused palm was a bracelet.
It wasn't just a bracelet, though; it was a work of art.
Delicate strands of pale metal were woven together to look like vines, twisting and curling around each other in an intricate, endless knot.
It caught the harsh medical bay lights and softened them, gleaming with a cool, moon-like luster.
Her breathing stuttered.
She didn't own things like this. Her life was defined by mended seams, second-hand coats, and counting credits for subway fare. The most expensive thing she owned… had owned anyway… was her comm unit, and that was three models out of date. This... this looked precious.
"Kirr," she breathed, reaching out to touch it but hesitating halfway to look up at him. "It's beautiful."
"It is silver-steel alloy," he said, his voice gruff. "Durable. It won't break."
"It's gorgeous." She looked up at him, her chest aching. "Why?"
"Because you are mine," he said, as if that explained everything.
Heat flooded her cheeks. He kept saying things like that. Making her feel like the universe started and ended with her. After a lifetime of being the responsible one, the one who fixed things while Delilah sparkled... being the one who got the lovely gift felt overwhelming.
"Thank you," she said softly as she picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, cool and weighty in her hand. The craftsmanship was incredible. Every tiny leaf was perfect.
"It's... a lot. But I love it." She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
She glanced over at Kellat, who was watching them from the console. The healer's lips curved. He met her gaze, eyes twinkling with amusement, then shook his head.
She looked back up at Kirr and frowned.
"So why do you look like you kicked a puppy?" she asked, nudging his arm with her elbow. "You look guilty."
He flinched. Actually flinched. "I do not look guilty. I am a War-Commander. We do not do guilt."
"You seem weirdly embarrassed then." She held up the bracelet. "Wait, is this your version of a proposal? Did we get married or something?"
"No," he said quickly. Too quickly. "It is just a gift. Here. Put it on."
He took the bracelet from her, his large fingers surprisingly nimble as he opened the clasp. He slipped it around her left wrist.
It fit perfectly. Not just well… but perfectly. It didn't slide too far down or pinch her skin. It sat flush against her wrist as if it had been made for her.
"How did you know my size?" she asked, turning her arm to admire the way the silver vines seemed to hug her wrist.
"I pay attention," he said. He was still looking at the bracelet, his expression almost brooding. He ran his thumb over the metal vines once, a checking motion, before dropping his hand. "Don’t take it off, Harper. It... pleases me to see you wearing it."
"I love it," she said. "I'm never taking it off."
"I will leave you two," Kellat said, his voice smooth. "I have rounds to complete. Harper, you may stay as long as you wish, but do not tire yourself. Emotional exhaustion is as taxing as physical exertion."
He offered a short bow to Kirr—who returned it with a stiff nod—and swept out of the room, the door hissing shut behind him.
"He's weird," Harper decided, looking back at her wrist. She couldn't stop staring at the bracelet. It made her feel... cherished. Valuable. Words she'd never applied to herself. “Nice, but weird sometimes.”
He is from the V'Raav clan," Kirr said dismissively. "They’re all odd. Too much thinking, not enough hitting."
She laughed, the sound light and free. "You can't solve everything by hitting it, Kirr."
"You’d be surprised." He stepped closer, crowding into her space until she had to tilt her head back to look at him. His hands settled on her waist, heavy and warm through her thin shirt. "There is a function tonight. On the observation deck. Formal dress."
Her stomach flipped. "A function? Like a party?"
"A diplomatic gathering. Boring speeches. But there will be drinks and food." He looked down at her, his eyes darkening. "I want you to come with me."
That was unfair, especially after he’d given her the beautiful bracelet, but she couldn’t help it. The words slipped out anyway.
"As what?" she asked, her insecurity getting the better of her for a moment. "Your prisoner? Your charity case?"
His grip on her waist tightened. "As mine… as the female I am courting."
She forgot how to breathe. Her pulse kicked hard. At his side, not as an obligation, but chosen instead.
"I don't have anything to wear to something like that," she said weakly. "My clothes are... well, look at me." She gestured to the LMP sweater and joggers.
"I have taken care of that," Kirr said. A corner of his mouth ticked up. "There are options waiting in our quarters."
Their quarters.
He was dismantling her defenses one brick at a time, and she wasn't even trying to stop him anymore. Why would she? Delilah was going to live. She had a silver band that made her feel like royalty, and this massive, terrifying, gentle… sexy man wanted to show her off to the entire station.
"Okay," she whispered. "I'll come."
He leaned down and brushed a kiss against her forehead. It wasn't the hungry, claiming kiss of the night before. It was tender. Sweet. "Good. We should go. You need to prepare."
She turned back to the bed one last time and reached out to squeeze Delilah's fingers. "I'll be back tomorrow, Dee. Keep getting better, okay? Don't make me look bad in front of the aliens."
She let go of her cousin's hand and turned back to Kirr. He offered her his arm, and she slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said. Her shoulders loosened, and the smile that stretched across her face surprised her. "I'm ready."