I set down my fork. "Did they threaten you? Because Dana absolutely threatened Er'dox before their first official date. Jalina has theories about optimal courtship protocols. And Bea?—"
"Bea took me aside yesterday and explained in graphic medical detail exactly what would happen if I hurt you." His markings flickered with what might have been amusement. "She's terrifying when she shifts into protective mode."
"They're all terrifying when they shift into protective mode." I picked up my fork again, stabbed a vegetable. "I'm sorry they ambushed you with threats and courtship advice."
"I'm not." Vaxon leaned back in his chair, the movement making his massive frame seem somehow relaxed instead of dangerous. "It means you have people who love you. Who wants you to be happy. That's not something to apologize for."
The words settled in my chest, warm and uncomfortable. Love. I had people who loved me. Not blood family who'd written me off as too difficult, too chaotic, too much. But my chosen family saw my disasters and decided I was worth protecting anyway.
"What about you?" I asked. "Do you have people running interference for you? Giving me the protective friend speech about breaking your heart?"
"Er'dox pulled me aside before the mission to the derelict. Warned me that emotional compromise in combat situations leads to poor tactical decisions." His expression shifted, something darker crossing his features. "He was right. I made several decisions during that mission that prioritized your safety over mission parameters."
"You mean you protected me."
"I mean I let my feelings override my training. Put you above the team. Above the mission objectives." His jaw tightened, the scar running from chin to ear more prominent in the dim lighting. "If Er'dox hadn't been there to maintain tactical discipline, we might not have made it out."
I set down my fork carefully. "Are you saying you regret protecting me?"
"No." The word came fast, absolute. "I'm saying I need to find better balance. Need to trust your competence instead of defaulting to physical protection every time danger appears." His eyes met mine across the table. "You don't need me to throw myself in front of every threat. You need me to trust that you can handle yourself while I handle the threats you can't manage alone."
"That sounds suspiciously like character growth."
"Bea suggested it. Apparently repeatedly almost dying to protect someone is 'avoidance behavior masking deeper intimacy issues.'" He said it like he was quoting directly, which he probably was. "She recommended I work on trusting you instead of just protecting you."
"How's that working out?"
"Terribly. Every instinct I possess screams to keep you safe at any cost." His hand found mine across the table, fingers intertwining. "But I'm trying. Because you deserve a partner who respects your capabilities, not just your right to be protected."
The admission made my throat tight. This massive warrior, trained from childhood to protect and defend, activelyfought against every instinct he possessed because he wanted to be better for me.
"For what it's worth," I said quietly, "I trust you. Completely. With my life, my work, my chaos. All of it."
"Even after I almost got you killed on the derelict?"
"You didn't almost get me killed. Raiders almost got me killed. You kept me alive long enough to escape." I squeezed his hand. "There's a difference between protecting someone and controlling them. You've never tried to control me. Even when I'm being reckless and dangerous and probably should be controlled."
"I've thought about it. Multiple times. Usually at 0300 hours when I'm reviewing your work logs and discovering you've been maintaining live power conduits without proper safety protocols."
"Those conduits needed immediate attention?—"
"They needed attention during normal hours with proper safety measures." But his tone held fondness instead of frustration. "You're going to give me heart failure before I'm forty."
"Zandovians don't get heart failure. Your cardiovascular system is redundantly designed for combat stress."
"Then you'll find some other creative way to destroy my peace of mind." His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. "You're brilliant at improvisation."
When the plates were empty and the conversation wound down, Vaxon stood and offered his hand. "Come here."
I took it, let him pull me up and guide me to the viewport. Mothership hung in space above a planet I couldn't name,stars scattered across the dark like diamonds on black velvet. Beautiful and alien and impossibly far from anything resembling home.
Vaxon's hands settled on my shoulders, warm and solid. "I need you to understand something."
My heart rate kicked up. "That sounds ominous."
"It's not ominous. It's honest." He turned me to face him, and the intensity in his eyes made breathing difficult. "I'm falling for you, Elena. Have been for months. Probably since the first time you explained circuit theory and your whole face lit up like you'd discovered something miraculous in basic electrical principles."
"That's not, I just really like electricity."
