The Cradle.
They would reach the ruins tomorrow.
Behind her, the massive pavilion, one of many aboard The Bastion of Libertas, stretched out like a small town. If you didn’t look too hard, you could almost forget you were aboard a starship.
Four days aboard the Commandant’s flagship had passed in a blur of high-level briefings, supply coordination, and adjustments to the team’s strategies. There had been tactical run-throughs, tweaks to their HUD software, even an equipment upgrade or two courtesy of The Bastion’s armory technicians. It should have left her feeling more prepared.
It hadn’t.
Not really.
"You’ll be leading the descent team,” the Commandant had said. "We’re dropping a small armada onto this planet to make sure we’re not overpowered. It's supposed to be abandoned, but who knows what we'll find. You’ll be the vanguard actually clearing the way through the complex—our reinforcements will bring up your rear.”
Aurania hadn’t protested.
The right to take lead was something they had earned. And leadership wasn’t a hat she wore—it was skin-deep by now. But with each day closer, she felt the old pressure building: that specific weight of being the one everyone would turn to if things went wrong.
Veolo was learning to emulate her well. Violet had come away from Mol’eyne stronger—despite all that had transpired. Inelius and Raine were helping them both de-stress.
Aurania laughed to herself and closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the glass with a soft thunk.
They were settling in better than she was. Most of the team had adjusted quickly to The Bastion’s unnatural size and strict rhythms. Tamiyo and Amalia spent half their time mapping out corridors like they were on a scavenger hunt. Riza disappeared into classified strategy meetings like she belonged there—but she could have just been bugging old friends. Even Brolgar and Brana had found cliques to cling to.
Soren though…
He hadn’t been the same since his conversation with the Commandant.
She could feel his growing anxiety as The Cradle drew near. Aurania saw no conceivable way they wouldn’t learn more about his past when they arrived. And his memories from before seemed stitched together like a broken constellation, she had a feeling it was taking a lot for him to not unravel entirely.
He hadn’t said it out loud, but she knew:
He was scared.
And worse—he was trying not to scare her.
Aurania left the pavilion in no real hurry, her legs carrying her aimlessly down one of the quieter auxiliary corridors. The Bastion was so massive it still felt like a maze, but she knew where she was. She wasn’t lost—just wandering in a rare moment of quiet.
After a while, she rounded a corner and found Riza walking toward her. She was alone, drifting down a corridor in a similar unhurried fashion as Aurania was. Her expression was sad, but not entirely, and her steps were slow and deliberate.
“Hey Riza,” Aurania said casually as she approached.
“Hey Aura.” Riza slowed, then leaned against a wall.
“You feeling alright?”
“Yeah, just some nausea. But I went to see Elias, so the day is good.” She smiled weakly.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Aurania returned her smile.
Riza gave her a curious look. “What are you doing, wandering around by yourself?”
Aurania recoiled slightly, feigning offense. “Is that not allowed?”
“I didn't say that,” Riza grinned slightly. “It's just… irregular for you, I guess. Taking downtime for once.”
“Moments of quiet do seem to be precious few these days.” Aurania slowly began walking again.
They fell into step beside each other, heading nowhere in particular.
“How's Daddy?” Aurania asked with a quiet smile.
“He's good.” Riza's hand went to her belly, Aurania suspected she did it without even thinking about it. “Kade personally made sure he's taken care of, we all served together.”
Aurania let a small chuckle out. “I should be less surprised about you just calling The Commandant of The Liberty Union fleets ‘Kade,’ but somehow even your everyday interactions still seem to amaze me.”
Riza shrugged slightly. “I mean, I did save his life…”
“Riza, I could throw a rock on this ship and hit someone who's life you saved.”
“You're exaggerating.”
Aurania raised one brow in response.
“Maybe if we were in the officer lounge…”
Aurania just laughed.
Riza laughed too, but then a bout of nausea overtook her and she had to lean against the wall.
Aurania stood close to her in case she needed support but didn't hover. It was far from Aurania's first time around pregnancy.
A passing enlisted man—human—came running over.
“Colonel Emberfell, are you alright?!” He was visibly nervous.
Riza looked like she was trying to not glare back at him, fighting to not hurl.
“Go get her some water…” Aurania glanced at his rank. “Sergeant. And some carbonated water too. Go.”
He scurried away as if she had screamed at him. She hadn't even raised her voice.
The two women looked at each other for a moment, then rolled their eyes and chuckled.
They waited there for several minutes and the sergeant came running back with a handful of various bottles and even some snacks.
“I think you have an admirer, Riza,” Aurania teased, looking at the sergeant's name tape. “Thank you, Sergeant Rourke.”
Riza rolled her eyes in response.
Sergeant Rourke flushed slightly and stammered. “I-I, uh, no— I mean yes, um— not like that ma'am.”
Aurania just laughed at him.
The sergeant regained a little composure. “Everyone on board admires Colonel Emberfell.” He was beet red, but didn't seem as nervous.
Riza reluctantly took a bottle of carbonated water from him and sipped it, then a few moments later she grabbed a bag of snacks from him without even asking.
“You seem to have ingratiated yourself with the legend, Sergeant,” Aurania teased with a smile.
She could feel Riza's glare like a physical weight, but ignored it.
“Thank you,” Riza finally told him. “I think I'll be OK—”
Their attention was drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps, and turned just in time to see Tamiyo emerge from a joining hallway. She looked the opposite direction from them, then turned toward them, and her eyes got slightly wider.
Tamiyo all but sprinted toward them. “Aura!”
Aurania stood straight at the distressed tone of her voice. “What's wrong?”
Tamiyo slowed to a stop suddenly as she reached them. “It's Soren! Something is wrong, he's freaking out!”
Why didn't I sense anything?
Aurania focused on the mental link she shared with Soren, and felt almost nothing. It was like it was blocked.
She glanced back at Riza.
“Go!” The sniper yelled at her.
Aurania nodded and turned, running down the hallway with Tamiyo.
“Where?” Aurania asked as they moved. “What happened?”
“I don't know!” Tamiyo said, leading her down the hallway she had emerged from. “One second he seemed fine, the next… Aura, his eyes are all lit up, it's like he can't even hear me!”
“Where dammit!”
“He's up on an observation platform on the Officer's Deck, we were doing guided meditation!”
They ran through the massive ship, greeted by worried eyes from Liberty Union personnel. They had to take two elevators to reach the Officer's Deck, and five long minutes after Tamiyo had found her, the two of them stood on a third elevator, climbing towards the observation platform.
“Why won't this thing go faster!” Aurania raged at the elevator. Her adrenaline was pounding, and Tamiyo was unsettlingly quiet next to her.
The elevator doors slid open.
Aurania tensed—ready for chaos, ready for a fight, ready to snap Soren out of whatever fugue had taken him. The last time she had to do this, he had caused an entire planet to shake.
But instead…
Soft, warm lighting bathed the room in hues of gold and amber. A circular table sat near the panoramic view screen, modest but elegant—set for two with real glassware, polished silver, and a bottle of something that shimmered faintly in the light. Candles—actual candles—flickered gently, their flames casting slow-moving shadows against the backdrop of stars beyond the window.
Along the opposite side, a low awning hung above a balcony railing that overlooked the officer’s pavilion below, dimming the ambient glow and giving their space a secluded, almost intimate atmosphere. A spread of real, gourmet food had been laid out with care, every detail speaking to intention—not extravagance, but thoughtfulness.
And Soren stood nearby, awkwardly fiddling with a piece of silverware. He was dressed… very nicely. Not a suit—but not the tactical black outfit he normally wore either. He wore a dark silk-like fabric that looked like a hybrid between human and lacravida style. It wasn’t showing a ton of skin like lacravida robes did, but it accented his physique very well.
And he was even wearing a couple simple pieces of silver jewelry.
He looked up at them with those strange eyes—but they weren’t glowing. They were that magnificent mix of vibrant green, shards of silver, and elusive hints of gold. He was completely calm.
Aurania was still catching up—heart racing, blood high with adrenaline, her pulse pounded in her ears. She blinked once, then again, confused.
“You… what is all this?”
“A dinner,” he said simply, gesturing to the table. Then he almost sounded timid. “If… you’re open to it.”
Aurania stared at him, unsure if she was impressed at how sweet the gesture was, angry about how he had tricked her—or stricken by how good he looked.
Her jaw set and she slowly turned the full weight of her gaze toward Tamiyo. The little CIPHER girl casually walked off the elevator and glanced back over her shoulder at Aurania. She offered a shit-eating-grin, reached the balcony, and faced toward them, her entire body going rigid like someone had ordered her to attention.
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“My work here is done!” Tamiyo declared, a sharp, mock salute flying up to her forehead. The momentum caused her to tip backwards and she tumbled back over the railing—still completely rigid like she was a statue.
Soren and Aurania both watched her dramatic exit, then looked back at each other.
“I think she’s been hanging around Amalia too much,” Soren said casually.
She didn’t immediately answer him. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to calm her nerves from the run over here. She had really thought he was in danger—
“Hey,” Soren said, sensing how she felt. “You’re not alone.”
His voice was soft, speaking the same words she had spoken to him, to calm him on Piria. He walked toward her, a vulnerable look on his face.
She felt her anger build.
The audacity to toy with my emotions like that. Who the fuck does he think he—
Soren was in front of her, and his hands reached toward her face.
Aurania shot an arm up defensively out of reflex.
He could have fought past. But he didn’t. He allowed her arm to stop him.
After a pause, she slowly lowered it.
Soren continued, reaching up and placing one hand on either side of her face, fingers pressing gently against her temples, thumbs brushing her cheek bones.
Just like Piria.
“It’s okay,” Soren whispered. “I’m here. You’re alright. You’re not lost.” He was staring directly into her eyes.
Aurania felt the panic within her fade away. Her pulse continued to slam, however, as the full weight of the situation washed over her—along with the scent of him filling her nose.
Fuck, he smells good.
She thought he might try to kiss her, she didn’t know if she would have stopped him if he had. No one had ever come close to being able to look her in the eye the way he was. She was the tallest lacravida alive, but due to his transformation, he was only a couple inches shorter than her.
Soren pulled them together until their foreheads touched, lingering for a few beats.
Then he gently released her, stepping back.
“I know everything recently has been tactical or… traumatic,” Soren walked slowly backwards toward the table he had set. “But just because we can’t sleep together, doesn’t mean we can’t be more than friends, right?”
Her gaze flicked over the setup, then to him.
She cautiously took one step forward.
“You’d really be ok with that?” Aurania’s tone had an edge of disbelief.
“Of course,” Soren said with a smile. “I’m interested in more than just sex with you, Aurania.”
She sensed it there, through their link. He wanted to call her Aura so bad, but wouldn’t without permission.
Maybe I should let him.
“But…” Soren’s expression shifted into something more raw, primal—darkly focused. “Since we know I’m the one that can’t get too excited, I could always just go down on you.”
Her knees almost buckled from how he said it—he was serious.
She managed to not let the weakness of her legs show, but she couldn’t keep the shock off her face. Or the hint of a grin.
His warm smile returned. “Just kidding,” he said, turning to open the bottle of liquor.
No you fucking weren’t.
Aurania let out a breath and walked forward, hooves echoing softly against the floor. “You set this up?”
He shook his head as he poured. “I asked Riza for help. She made some calls, bullied a few lieutenants.”
Aurania exhaled through her nose. “Of course she did.”
The mix of customs caused some miscommunication. He looked like he wanted to pull her chair out, but moved to do it right as she moved to seat herself. When she gave him a look, he withdrew, as if he wasn’t sure if he was overstepping.
Aurania offered him a kind smile to show she appreciated the gesture, but then took her seat as she watched him.
He sat, and then for a moment, there was silence.
“This is elaborate,” Aurania finally said, gesturing and the setup.
“I didn’t want it to feel like a favor,” he said honestly. “I wanted it to feel like a choice. But, I also wanted it to be nice. You deserve it.”
Aurania studied him for a long moment. Then, with a faint sigh and a subtle softening of her posture, she said, “You look very nice. You didn’t give me a chance to get dressed up though.” She held a tone, but it was playful.
“Aurania, I have never seen you look anything less than stunning.” His tone wasn’t one of flattery. It was like he was stating a fact. “I could have drug you here drooling from the depths of sleep and you’d have looked better than me on my best day.”
She watched him with a cool look before she answered. “...I don’t drool when I sleep.”
Soren laughed, loud, warm, and genuine. “Oh yeah, you do.”
She couldn’t help but smile at him.
The lighting stayed low and warm, the stars beyond the window glittering like spilled salt over black velvet. The food was surprisingly fresh—real vegetables, actual grains, rich cuts of meat and something with spice. Soren hadn’t cooked it, but he’d chosen every dish based on things he’d seen her eat before.
They ate in relative silence for the first few minutes, but not awkward or uncomfortable. It was deliberate and intimate, like they were truly enjoying each others’ company while lightly jousting with just their eyes—feeding off of one another’s expressions.
“Tell me about you, Soren,” Aurania finally said. “Tell me about the man beneath all of that.” She gestured with her fork to his physique.
He glanced down, as if self-conscious, but only for a moment. “Well, I’d like to say I’m similar to you, a great warrior, super strong even before the transformation, but in all honesty, I was more reserved. I worked out when I joined the military, more out of necessity than for recreation. My social skills were… let’s say less than ideal,” he ended with a self-assuring chuckle.
“What did you do for fun?”
His head tilted slightly as he tried to remember. “Well, music, I suppose. More listened than played, I tried a couple things but it never really stuck, same with creative endeavors like art. It was fun, but I never painted anything someone would spend money on.”
She watched him with a soft expression as he talked.
“You shouldn’t make art just to sell,” Aurania told him.
“Oh… I know,” he sounded a little shy as he said it.
“It’s a shame you grew up in such a corporate dominated environment. There’s more to life than money.”
Aurania reached a hand over and placed it on top of his. “I bet you could be a great artist if you put your mind to it.”
Soren’s face grew slightly red.
She smiled and withdrew her hand to take a sip of her drink. The alcohol was delicious—fruity in taste without being too sweet, and strong without being abrasive.
“What about you?” Soren asked.
“Me?” Aurania’s face was innocent, eyes wide.
“Who is Aurania Enderchild, underneath the War-Chieftess of Berilinsk?”
For a moment, Aurania didn’t know how to respond. Not because she didn’t know the answer, but it had been so long since someone had shown interest in her like that. He really meant everything he had said earlier.
“Well,” Aurania started, “As you know, I am one of three daughters. Our mother’s name was Ashira, she led our village before Samara. We were all raised to lead, so my official duties do take up the majority of my time, but… I do like to read sometimes. And I’ve had some hobbies over the decades, but none I can say I’m a master at.”
She took another bite of her food.
“Ashira…” Soren said thoughtfully. “Tell me about her! If that’s alright…”
Aurania smiled. “Yeah, I don’t mind, she passed away about 10 years ago now. She was strong, powerful… hell of a cook too.”
“What happened to her?” He was just being curious.
“I killed her,” Aurania said casually.
Soren’s eyes went wide. “What? Why?”
“I thought you said you read about us.”
“Oh, wait, I remember, don’t tell me… V— Veer… Veerly… something.”
“Virelai Kethra,” Aurania corrected.
“Yeah, that one. The ritual combat.”
She laughed at him lightly. “Yes, it’s a warrior’s death. It’s a great honor to be chosen for the ritual.”
Soren was looking at her with some mix of awe, fear, and admiration. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get fully used to your culture. But… I like it. Keeps me on my toes. Just don’t tell me you’ll be scheduling your own death anytime soon, I like having you around.”
He grabbed his drink to take a sip.
Aurania smiled. “No, not anytime soon. I’m only 54, so—”
Soren spit his drink out.
“You’re 54?!”
She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or be offended. “How old did you think I was?”
“I guess… I feel stupid now. I didn’t really think about it. But you look like you’re mid 30’s maybe? I mean, compared to a human. But obviously…”
He trailed off, looking slightly defeated.
“I see what you mean about the lack of social skills.”
It slipped out of her mouth before she meant to say it, and she hoped he didn’t get offended. But even if he did—a giggle escaped her and his face lit up at the sound.
“Shut up!” She tried to cover, but it wasn’t working.
He was laughing, a warm sound that filled the room and a space in her chest she didn’t even realize was there.
Then Soren set his glass down. He looked at her—really looked at her.
“I was kind of worried you wouldn’t say yes,” he said finally.
“Well you did lure me under false pretenses,” she responded bluntly.
The look he returned was almost coy. “Would you say it was worth it?”
Aurania’s tongue ran along the inside of her cheek as she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Maybe…” her answer was playful at least.
Soren stood slowly, then carefully, he began to circle the table with deliberate steps.
Aurania watched him, every muscle in her body alert—not out of fear, but anticipation. The kind that tightened her chest and made her breath catch before she even realized she was holding it.
He stopped in front of her, close but not assuming.
“I would like to… ask you a question.” Soren held out his hand to her, palm up.
After a moment of hesitation, she lightly took it and he led her to stand by the window.
They stood quietly, as Soren seemingly searched for the right thing to say.
Finally, he spoke:
“I want to kiss you.”
She recoiled slightly, but with a gentle smile. “You know we can’t, no matter how much we may want to.”
“I didn’t say I want to have sex with you,” Soren retorted. “Not that I don’t, but I mean— stop that, you’re intentionally messing with me.” He flushed a little.
She couldn’t keep the wide grin off her face.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked suddenly.
She had been.
Her brow furrowed. “No.”
Soren stepped a little closer, but not enough to touch. “I want to make sure that you are comfortable… I know how hard this is for you.”
“You think you know me?” she shot back defensively, fire in her tone.
“I get the feeling that you like to be in control. Always. But I’m the one person you can’t overpower, and that scared you from the moment I survived your attack. That’s it, isn’t it?”
She looked away, jaw flexing. Not in shame—but in frustration. With herself. With how easily he read her.
“I’m not sure what your love life has been like,” Soren continued, “and honestly, I’m not here to ask. But… in some ways. The way you held me and let me sleep is more intimate than anything else we could have done.”
That made her stop and look at him.
He held her gaze.
“You’re too smooth for your own good,” she said after a moment.
“I really, really am not,” he said with a laugh.
Aurania took a step back, jaw tight, arms still at her sides like she didn’t trust them not to reach for him.
“We can’t get carried away,” she said. “You know what could happen.”
“I do,” Soren said. “That’s why I’m not rushing you.”
She stared at him, unsettled by how calm he was. That unnerved her more than any heated advance ever could.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was quiet. But firm.
She didn’t answer right away. Her pulse was still pounding—half adrenaline from the earlier sprint, half from how close he was now. From what it meant.
“I don’t trust easily,” she admitted.
“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “I’m asking if you trust me. Enough to stop bracing. Enough to let your guard down and not have to be the one in control for once.”
Aurania looked up at him, really looked.
He wasn’t trying to assert himself. He wasn’t trying to wrest control from her. He was offering safety.
And that was the most disarming thing of all.
“I don’t want to dominate you,” Soren said, stepping a little closer. “It’s not about who’s stronger. It’s about whether we can choose when to let go—and know the other person won’t take advantage of it.”
She could have laughed. Could have thrown up another wall, said something biting, kept herself armored.
But instead—
Her voice was quiet. “Maybe.”
“Maybe,” he echoed, with a small smile.
He lifted a hand slowly, letting her see it coming.
“May I?” he asked.
She breathed in through her nose. Slow. Grounding.
The tension in her chest eased—not entirely, but enough. She could feel his breath. Smell him. That intoxicating scent sharpened now that he was this close.
And she hated that she didn’t want him to pull away.
Aurania hesitated—her eyes flicked to his mouth, back to his eyes—then she nodded.
Soren leaned in, one hand brushing lightly against the curve of her jaw, fingers trailing back to rest just beneath her ear. His other hand hovered, then settled carefully at her waist—just the edge of his palm, respectful.
And then he kissed her.
Not a brush or a tease.
A real kiss—slow, firm, and present. There was no tongue, or groping, or pressure to go further. Just the warmth of his lips against hers—but the kind of kiss that made it impossible to think about anything else.
Aurania’s heart slammed against her ribs. Electricity sweet as sin surged through every muscle in her jaw—her eyes watered and her legs felt like they were going to give out.
She let them.
For a brief moment, he held her entire weight up as if she was nothing.
A soft whimper escaped her and her legs shot back under her to hold her weight.
When he pulled back, her lips tingled. Her breathing was off. Her thoughts refused to line up—racing 1,000 miles every second.
Soren looked at her like he already knew.
“See?” he murmured. “I can be good.”
Aurania swallowed hard. “That’s debatable.”
She stepped back, trying to pretend her legs didn’t feel like they were made of glass.
“I should go,” she said, voice low, steady only by force of will.
“Okay,” Soren replied with a smile. “Thanks for staying.”
She walked to the door. Her fingers hovered over the panel.
Then she looked back at him, eyes still smoldering with the weight of what they’d just shared. She bit her bottom lip—
And wavered.
For half a second, she was ready to say ‘fuck it' and throw caution to the wind.
But then Soren both kept her at bay and drew her in further.
“Down girl.”
His voice was a low growl, deep and smooth. His tone was full of both safety—and primal hunger.
Aurania left without another word.
As the elevator descended from the observation platform, Aurania exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding—leaning hard against the wall.
Her thighs clenched together, and her voice shook as she said aloud:
“Holy shit.”
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