“That’s it.” He shifted the bottle, angling it toward the baby’s mouth. “Good boy. There you go. Nice and slow.”
The baby found the teat. It drank, hesitant at first, then stronger. Goraath made a low sound of approval.
“Good. That’s good, little one. See? Not so bad.”
Watching his hand move over the soft, unhardened armor of the baby’s head, she forgot to breathe. He waited, patient as stone, while the creature drank its fill. No frustration. No impatience. Just steady, quiet care.
The baby finished and let out a small sound… not distressed this time. Tired. Settling.
Goraath smiled.
It transformed his face. Cracked open the hard lines and revealed something underneath… warmth, tenderness, and a softness she hadn’t known existed in him. He looked younger. He looked like someone who knew how to love things.
“There,” he said, his hand resting on the baby’s flank. “Rest now, little male. I’ll check on you in a few hours.”
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away.
Little male. He’d called it little male, like it was precious. Like it mattered.
The baby’s eyes drifted closed. Goraath stayed where he was, one hand still resting on its side, watching it breathe.
She stayed frozen, barely breathing, afraid any movement would alert him that she was there.
She watched until the baby settled, then retreated silently, back toward the house.
Inside, she leaned against the closed door and pressed her palms to her cheeks. They were hot despite the cold.
Footsteps on the porch.
She fled to her room and shut the door, pulse racing.
Dinner was in an hour. One hour to figure out how to sit across from him without her face giving everything away. One hour to forget the way he’d murmured little male in that wonderfully deep voice.
She was in so much trouble.
Chapter 6
The kitchen smelled wonderful. Juni hovered in the doorway, her stomach growling as she watched Goraath in there.
“Can I help?”
He paused, a knife halfway to the cutting board and glanced at her, then away. “You don’t need to.”
Not a no. Progress.
She stepped into the kitchen. “I want to.”
Another pause. Then he shifted across, making room at the counter. There wasn’t much room… but it was an invitation and that was all that mattered
She grabbed a second knife from the block. “What are we making?”
“Stew.” He started cutting the purple root vegetable she recognized from the market. His knife flashed with the ease of long practice. “Simple. Filling.”
“Sounds perfect.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes. Or tried to. The kitchen was too small for both of them at the same time. She moved and his arm brushed hers. Heat burned her cheeks and she pressed closer to the counter so she was out of the way.
“Sorry.”
