He takes Jethani—a fat, sweet-looking girl who seems barely old enough to crawl—and holds her at arm’s length with an expression of consternation on his face. “Should she be drooling like this?”

“She should,” Steph says, trying not to laugh. “And it’ll be easier if you put her on your lap, like I suggested.”

He gives me another alarmed look. “What if she wants a teat?”

“Then you hand her back to her mother,” I tell him.

“How will I know?” He pulls Jethani a bit closer to him, that mystified expression remaining on his face. “She is very small and squishy. Is this normal?”

Steph is the soul of patience. She doesn’t panic when Skarr awkwardly settles the baby on his knee. She just reaches over and plops the baby against his chest and maneuvers his arms until he’s holding her securely. “Like that. And yes, it’s normal for her to be small and fat. Babies don’t look like adult humans for a while.”

“She is wearing a loincloth,” he points out in a voice of sheer awe, touching one of her small knees when she wriggles her feet. “And tiny boots.”

“That’s a diaper,” Steph says. “It’ll be a while before she’s old enough to know how to use the bathroom like an adult. For now she relieves herself in the diaper and I change it.”

He jerks in surprise, eyes wide, and lifts the baby off his leg, holding her into the air again. “Right now?”

“Not right now. In general.”

Jethani squirms, reaching for his hair. She grabs a handful and jerks on it, playing with the strands. To his credit, Skarr does not blink, just continues to hold the child and fires questions at Steph. “Is that why her legs are short and flailing like that?”

“Exactly.”

“And her head looks like a lump?”

“It’s not a lump!” I protest, trying not to laugh.

“All of her is a bit like a lump,” he whispers as I sit down next to him with our food bowls. “I am not saying it to be cruel. She should know her strengths and weaknesses so she can compensate for them.”

“Babies are very little humans,” Steph continues. “They won’t look like adults for a long time.”

“How long until they grow up?” he asks, fascinated.

“About twenty years?” Steph says.

Skarr’s jaw drops. He shoots me another panicked look and then glances back at Steph. “You have to change her diapers for twenty years?”

I can’t help it. I burst into giggles.

“Not twenty years,” Steph reassures him. “Only until she’s old enough to figure out how to tell me when she needs to relieve herself. It’s different for a lot of children, but some learn in less than two years. It’s hard to say because Jethani is a hybrid of myself, a human, and my mate, who is an Islander. If you don’t mind holding her for a bit longer, I’m happy to answer as many questions as you like. Babies must be new to you.”

“Very new. And I do not mind holding her,” Skarr says. Jethani jerks on his hair and giggles, and his face breaks into a grin. “She likes me best out of all the warriors here. I can tell already. She knows she is in the arms of a champion.”

Steph, to her credit, does not blink an eye at the self-aggrandizing. She just calmly puts a burp cloth on his shoulder and pats it in place. “You’re going to want that.”

The baby wriggles, her legs dancing and bouncing on his strong one. He holds her carefully, watching her moves with fascination. “Is she trying to spar?”

“No, I’m pretty sure she’s going to puke.”

I lean away, and sure enough, the baby lets loose. Skarr looks horrified. “Did I do that to her?”

Steph continues her lesson in her soothing voice. “Nope. She just got excited. Let’s clean her up and I’ll show you how to play peek-a-boo with her. She loves that.”

We stay by the fire all day, holding children of various ages and teaching Skarr about babies. Steph stays all morning, until Jethani is tired and cranky and she puts her down for a nap. She sends Pak out to sit with us when he returns from fishing with his father, and Skarr gets into a mock-fight with the little boy, complete with fake punches. He sprawls on the ground when Pak lands one, groaning dramatically. “I have been felled!”

 I hide my smile against Aayla’s hair as she plays with a leather doll in my lap.

“Excellent work, warrior,” Skarr tells the boy. “You will be one to fear soon enough.”

Pak’s rabbit-like tail flutters happily.

“Now fight me,” Z’hren says, bounding forward and putting up his fists in a boxing pose.

“I do not know if I dare,” Skarr tells him, all seriousness. “You have so many fists I am certain to lose.”

Gail shoots me an amused look. She’s sewing a fur ruff onto a hood, seated next to me by the fire. There have been people coming and going all day, but Gail seems to do a lot of her work by the fire. She says she likes to help out if anyone needs it. I suspect she just likes being in the thick of things, unlike me. She’s really nice, though. She makes a stitch in the fur and then leans towards me. “For someone that’s never been around children, he’s good with them.”

“He is.” There’s a sincerity to children that meshes well with Skarr’s loud personality. He tells them he’s an incredible fighter and they believe him, because children believe adults. And so when he solemnly tells them that they have real promise as warriors, they preen with delight.

“Show me how to throw a punch,” Liz’s oldest daughter Raashel demands, racing up to join the sparring group.

He nods at her, gesturing for her to come forward, and demonstrates how to position her fist, and how to hold her thumb.

“Is this the first time he’s been around the kids?” Gail asks me. “You guys have been here for a few days now.”

“I think this is the first time he’s truly noticed them.” He’s been caught up in resonance. We both have.

“Well, he’s going to be popular with them, I can tell. You’re going to have a lot of little faces at your hut each morning, wanting to play.” She smiles, shaking her head as she sews. “Just warning you now.”

“It’s fine.” And surprisingly, I realize that it is. I don’t mind children showing up on our doorstep wanting to spend time with Skarr. Children don’t make me uneasy.

“Did you see my doll’s hair?” Aayla asks, lifting her doll to show me. “It’s in two buns because her name is Princess Leia.”

“Very pretty,” I agree, and wonder how a child born on this planet knows anything about Star Wars.

Later that night, Skarr curls his big body around mine in bed. He presses his mouth to the crook of my neck, his favorite spot, and kisses me. “I think I like children.”

“I think I do, too,” I whisper back.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SKARR

ONE WEEK LATER

“I promise you, this is how they’re supposed to look.” Vivi shoots me an amused look as she straps one of the skis to my boot. Just her bending over in front of me like that is enough to make my cocks want to extrude and my khui is singing loudly. Resonance presses upon both of us hard, but Vivi has not indicated she wishes to mate yet, so I wait.

And wait.

Truly, the waiting is not so bad. Vivi and I spend most of our time together, and at night we are in the furs, kissing and touching. But the longer this goes on, the more difficult it becomes to control my cocks. I extrude in my sleep and wake up grinding against her. I think about mating constantly. I ache with hunger for her. My cocks constantly throb with need.

I hope she decides we are mates soon, but until she does, I must control myself. I give her rounded backside a hungry stare and then bite back a sigh, forcing myself to look at the ski on my foot instead. “It looks ridiculous.”