Page 18 of Xara and the Xenobeast

He should have been offended, should have growled and asserted his dominance, reminding her of what he was capable of. Instead, he found himself carefully lowering the pup back to the bed, where it immediately pounced on another tendril.

“Tal’Shai—territorial,” he said again, his voice still rough. “Boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” She caught the word immediately. “That’s why you were warning me?”

He nodded once, and she frowned thoughtfully.

“Boundaries,” she repeated. “Do you know that because you’ve interacted with them?”

The question hung between them, loaded with implications. He looked away, uncomfortable with her perception, but he could feel her studying him, her gaze traveling over his powerful body, over the silver markings that pulsed beneath his skin, and the claws that could tear through chitin and bone.

“They’re afraid of you,” she said softly. It wasn’t a question, but she wasn’t entirely correct. It would be more accurate to say that they respected his abilities.

He met her eyes again, expecting to see that same fear reflected there. Instead, he found something closer to understanding.

“Made to be feared,” he admitted, the words scraping his throat like rough stone.

The pup continued to play with his tendril, completely unafraid. It chirped happily as it swung from the appendage, tiny claws gentle against the sensitive flesh. The other two pups had crept closer, watching the game with interest.

“Not by everyone, apparently,” she said, smiling at the pups.

Something shifted inside him—a tectonic surge of emotion he couldn’t name. He had been engineered for death, built to destroy, trained to kill. Fear was his companion, his weapon, his shield. Yet these creatures didn’t flinch from his claws or his scars. Not the pups. Not the female.

“Don’t know what I am,” he said softly.

“I think they know exactly what you are,” she countered. “They just see something different than what you think you are.”

He almost reeled at the assertion. What was he, if not the weapon his creators had intended? What remained when the killing stopped?

One of the other pups grew bold, scrambling onto his knee to join its sibling. He found himself lifting it carefully, cradling it in one massive palm. Its tiny body was warm against his skin, its markings pulsing with contentment.

She smiled again, warm and soft. “See? They trust you.”

Trust. The concept was foreign, dangerous—trust was for the weak, the naive, the soon-to-be-dead—but something protective stirring in his chest as the curled into a ball in his palm.

“Tal’Shai,” he said, forcing himself back to safer ground. “Won’t help. Threat.”

A delicate eyebrow arched.

“I’m a threat?” A smile curved her lips as she tilted her head, studying him. “But you don’t see me as a threat, do you?”

The question caught him off-guard. Did he see her as a threat? She was small, soft, injured. Physically, she posed no danger to him. But the way she looked at him, the way she spoke to him—as if he were more than just a beast—that threatened something far more fundamental than his physical safety.

“Rest,” he said instead of answering. “Heal.”

She looked like she wanted to continue the conversation, but her exhaustion was evident in the shadows beneath her eyes. Her brief excursion had drained what little strength she’d regained.

“Fine,” she sighed, settling back against the bed. “But this conversation isn’t over. Now that I know you can talk, I have about a thousand questions.”

Of course she did. He could see the curiosity burning in her eyes, the scientist’s need to understand.

The third pup, seeing its siblings receiving attention, approached cautiously. When he made no move to stop it, it climbed up his arm, tiny claws tickling against his skin. It settled on his shoulder, chirping contentedly.

“They really do love you,” she murmured sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed.

He remained still, acutely aware of the small lives trusting him not to harm them. The pup in his palm had fallen asleep, its tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. The one on his shoulder nuzzled against his neck, its fur soft against his skin.

He should return them to her and move away, protect himself from this dangerous softening. Instead, he found himself settling more comfortably beside the bed, careful not to disturb Xara or the sleeping pups. Her breathing deepened as exhaustion claimed her.

---