Page 19 of Xara and the Xenobeast

He watched her face relax in sleep, struck by how vulnerable she looked. How trusting. His sensory tendrils reached toward her of their own accord, drawn to her warmth.

One tendril gently brushed a dark curl from her forehead. She didn’t stir, her breathing remaining deep and even. Encouraged by her lack of response, he allowed the tendril to explore a little further, tracing the delicate shell of her ear and the soft vulnerable pulse of her neck.

Time passed. The pups slept, tiny bodies warm against his skin, and Xara slept equally peacefully. He should have moved away.

He didn’t.

The smallest sound broke the silence as she whimpered. Her face contorted, no longer peaceful. Another whimper, then a soft cry. Her body tensed, hands clutching at the bedding.

Nightmare.

He immediately settled the pups against her stomach and slipped into the bed behind her. His tendrils reached for her, wrapping gently around her shoulders, her arms, her waist. He gathered her carefully against his chest, mindful of her injury, cradling her as he might one of the pups. The feel of her body against him reawakened his simmering arousal, but it was less important that providing her comfort.

Her body stiffened momentarily, then relaxed against him as the whimpering stopped. Her breathing steadied and, without waking, she turned towards him, her face pressing against his chest, one hand coming up to rest over his heart.

The contact froze him in place. No one touched him like this. No one sought comfort from him, yet here she was, nestled against him, quieted by his presence and trusting him even in sleep.

The realization settled into his bones—she was his to protect.

The thought should have alarmed him. Instead, it filled him with a strange, fierce warmth as he held her, watching over her sleep, his tendrils wrapped protectively around her small form.

His. To protect. To keep safe.

The universe had taken everything else from him and stripped him down to the beast, the weapon, the monster. But this—this soft creature who defied him and laughed at him and trusted him—this, perhaps, it would let him keep.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Xara 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. Heseemed 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.”

---