“I will warm you,” Noxx’s deep voice said softly. “Tomorrow we will have fuel for a fire.”
She had just enough time to realize what was happening and then his arms were around her.
His incredible heat sank into her and she soaked it up like a sponge.
Pleasure lit up every receptor in her body as she took in his scent and the hard feel of him against her own body.
“You’re as cold as a wet fish,” he observed, instantly breaking her mood.
Luna tried not to laugh out loud and wake the baby, but her whole body shook with mirth.
“Am I making you colder, Terran?” Noxx asked, sounding a little annoyed. “You’re shaking.”
“No, that was just really funny,” she whispered. “What you said about me being like a fish.”
“Ah,” he said. “Well, I meant it.”
“Noted,” she replied, smiling to herself.
“Sleep, woman,” he said. “No more wiggling.”
And in spite of the scary things below the tree, and the sexy warrior’s arms around her, and the knowledge that the baby was in the cradle beside her, her baby, Luna found herself obediently drifting right off to sleep.
7
Noxx
Noxx lay beside the woman in silence.
He could hear the wind outside and feel the treehouse swaying slightly. He sensed the slight movements of the whelp in its sleep. Soon it would want feeding.
Normally, he was exhausted by the small creature’s nightly feedings. But he found himself wishing it would awaken and end his torture.
He was trying desperately to restrain his senses, but they insisted on showing him one thing above all others.
The woman.
His mate.
Her small body had warmed almost instantly to his, as the pounding of her pulse slowed to match his own heartbeat.
The little Terran was instinctively obeying the call of his dragon, even as Noxx himself fought against it.
Meanwhile, the dragon raged and snapped in his chest, desperate to claim his mate.
Noxx’s body was raging with need, and every small movement Luna made in her sleep seemed designed to encourage him.
Even now, as he held himself still as a statue, she moaned lightly in her sleep and pressed her soft posterior more firmly against his raging cock, leaning her head back so that strands of her silky hair tickled his jaw.
Noxx clenched his fists and prayed for deliverance.
He just had to make it through this one darkness cycle. When light came, they could gather fuel for a fire and he would not have to endure this torture again.
Somehow, that thought was even worse than the idea of holding her without claiming her.
The whelp’s whimper came as a welcome distraction.
He gently extracted himself from Luna and padded over to the cradle to retrieve little Sol.
Though he tried not to think of the youngling as anything but a whelp, at times like this, late in the night when the rest of the world was sleeping, he let himself remember.
Back on Ignis-7, Noxx had been part of a family unit. Then the sickness took them all, one by one, until only Noxx and his baby brother were left.
And then it took his brother too.
Noxx had joined the warriors of the Invicta in his adolescence. There was no other place for him to go.
And the proud brotherhood of the Invicta had taken him in, no questions asked.
The soldiers taught stoicism and strength in the face of the many tragedies their young warriors faced. Noxx had replaced his sadness with a hunger for justice, his longing for his family with a love for his brothers in arms and their cause.
Noxx had grown to be a force within the Invicta - strong, smart, and capable - everyone said he had all the qualities of a leader.
But none of that mattered now.
Vice-Admiral Longbaak had thrown Noxx right back to the pain of his past by assigning a whelp into his care.
Little Sol stopped his whimpering and kicked his legs like a fann-frog when he saw Noxx leaning over to pick him up.
“Good morning, whelp,” Noxx told him gruffly, pulling him to his chest.
Sol crowed back and knocked his head against Noxx’s shoulder to tell him he was ravenous.
“I already know you’re hungry, you’re always hungry,” Noxx told him, heading over to the food replicator.
Sol tangled his fat fist in a hank of Noxx’s hair and yanked.
“I’m going as fast as I can, boy,” Noxx told him.
The whelp chuckled and made a gurgling sound.
Noxx entered the code into the machine and a minute later opened it to remove a cell of warm milk.
He allowed a claw to extend from his finger in order to make an opening. Then he held it out to the baby.
Sol latched onto it and let Noxx feed him, even though he was probably capable of holding the cell in his own small hands to drink.
Noxx leaned back against the counter and gazed down at the chubby blue whelp.
Sol gazed directly into Noxx’s eyes as he fed, and reached out a small hand to pat Noxx’s rough jaw.
A sense of peace fell over the big warrior, like a blanket in a snowstorm.
There were no wars, no women, no career advancements, or terrifying beasts.
It was just the two of them, together in the peace of pre-dawn.
And Noxx drank in the infant’s trust as hungrily as the whelp drank its breakfast.
“I can’t protect you from everything, you know,” he murmured to it.
Its small brow furrowed slightly, as if it were considering what Noxx had said. He knew it was only mirroring his own expression, but suddenly it seemed wise beyond its age to him.
There was a small sound and Noxx instinctively spun into action, cradling the whelp in one arm, and grasping the hilt of his laser sword in the other.
He relaxed as he came face to face with the woman.
“Luna,” he breathed.
Her hair was mussed from sleep, making it look like she had just been doing something else. Her simple cotton shift was not enough to hide her supple curves.
And the scent of her was exquisite.
“Oh my God,” she yelped, distracting him from his lustful thoughts. “You were going to kill me.”
She was looking at his hand, still clutching the hilt of his weapon.
“Were you not paying attention when I showed you the things in the woods with us?” he snapped. “And of course I wasn’t going to kill you. I’m a trained warrior. I don’t make mistakes.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” she said.
She was right, but it only made him mad.
“Get dressed,” he told her. “Today you learn how to gather fuel for the fire.”
She shrugged and headed for the bathroom with her small bag.
Belatedly, he wondered how long she had been awake before he noticed her. Hopefully not long enough to have seen him mooning over the whelp.
He busied himself finishing the feeding and changing, while the woman made herself ready. When she emerged, he was surprised to see her wearing a simple work coverall.
“What are you staring at?” she asked. There was a defensive note in her voice.
“You decided to travel off-planet in an evening gown yesterday,” he said. “Forgive me if I’m admiring your fashion restraint today.”
“I did not decide to wear that gown,” she said haughtily. “The adoption agency gave it to me.”