Page 21 of Xara and the Xenobeast

His gaze swept the room, lingering on the pedestal and the damaged technology, before he shook his head. At least it was a response.

The pup in her arms had calmed, its markings returning to their normal gentle pulse. It nuzzled against her collarbone, making a soft, contented sound. She laughed and held it up to her face.

“I’m definitely calling you Trouble.”

The other two pups were circling the male’s feet, chirping for attention, and to her surprise, he crouched down, allowing Dot to climb onto his palm. He lifted it carefully, studying its tiny face with an intensity that might have seemed threatening if not for the gentleness of his touch.

“They’re getting bigger,” she continued, filling the silence with her observations. “Stronger too. This one—” she nodded to the pup in her arms “—nearly gave me a heart attack when it got stuck, but it’s good that they’re curious. It means that they’re healthy and developing normally.”

He set Dot down and petted the middle pup before he straightened, his gaze returning to her face. He gestured firmly towards toward the entrance to the chamber—a clear indication to return to the main cave.

“I’d like to explore more,” she said, not moving. “If that’s okay. There’s so much history here.”

He seemed to consider this, his silver eyes unreadable, but he finally nodded—a small, sharp movement.

Permission granted.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her face. “I promise I’ll be careful. And I’ll keep the little ones out of trouble.”

As if to prove her wrong, Trouble squirmed free of her grasp and scampered toward another narrow opening in the wall.

“Oh no you don’t!” She lunged for it, forgetting her injured leg.

Pain shot through her as her weight came down on that leg and she stumbled forward. Strong hands caught her before she could fall, steadying her with hands and tendrils. He held her for a moment longer than necessary, his body radiating heat against her back, and she made no attempt to move away.

“Sorry,” she murmured, smiling up at him over her shoulder. “I’m still not quite steady on my feet.”

He released her slowly, as if unsure she could stand on her own. Trouble, meanwhile, had abandoned its exploration and returned to circle her ankles, chirping with what sounded remarkably like concern.

“I’m fine,” she assured it, bending carefully to stroke its soft fur. “Just clumsy.”

When she straightened again, she found him watching her with that same unreadable expression, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made her skin tingle.

“I suppose I should probably rest this leg a bit more,” she admitted. “But I’d like to come back.”

He nodded again, then gestured back the way she’d come.

“Lead the way,” she said, gathering the pups around her.

As they made their way back through the winding passages, she noticed how he matched his pace to hers, slowing when she struggled, pausing when she needed to rest. His huge body blocked most of the light from ahead, casting her in shadow, yet somehow she didn’t feel afraid.

When they reached the main chamber, he guided her to the bed, his hand hovering near her elbow but not quite touching.

“Thank you,” she said as she settled onto the soft moss. “For letting me explore. And for rescuing our little troublemaker.”

Our. The word slipped out so naturally she didn’t even notice until she saw his reaction—a slight widening of those silver eyes, a momentary stillness.

The pups scrambled onto the bed around her, their energy apparently inexhaustible. Trouble immediately began chewing on the edge of a fur.

“No, don’t eat that,” she scolded gently, redirecting it to a small pile of fruit she’d set aside earlier.

When she looked up again, he had moved over to the cave entrance, but he wasn’t leaving. Instead, he seemed to be... watching, observing her interactions with the pups with an intensity that might have been unnerving if she hadn’t glimpsed that almost-smile earlier.

“They’re a handful,” she said, smiling at him. “But worth it.”

And for just a moment—so brief she might have imagined it—the corner of his mouth twitched again. Not quite a smile. But almost.

It was enough to make her heart skip a beat.

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