Page 37 of Alien Assassin's Heir

Two hours until I’m supposed to meet her again.

Dinner.

She didn’t say it, but I could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t just letting me in for one night. She’s testing the waters. Seeing if the man who left her bleeding could possibly be the man she used to trust.

The man she used to love.

I don’t know if I can be that.

But I know I want to try.

Back at the hideout, I wash my hands in a cracked basin. The water’s tepid and stinks of rust, but it gets the blood out from under my nails—old blood, not fresh. From a courier who got too close last week. The Coalition wouldn’t care about his name. Only that he wasn’t one of theirs.

I dry off and toss the rag aside. My hands shake, just a little.

Because I keep seeing her in my bed.

Not naked.

Not flushed.

Just peaceful.

Like I never thought she could be again.

Like I never thought I’d see her be.

I pull out the little hand-drawn sketch I didn’t burn.

Not the one of her face—that one’s ash now. Gone, like too many things.

This one’s smaller. Simpler.

A tiny shape. A child. Barely more than lines and guesses.

I don’t know why I drew it.

I’ve seen her walking with the little girl. Heard her laugh. Seen her tug on Luna’s coat and babble about berries or bugs or whatever tiny humans obsess over.

She looks… normal.

Human.

But those eyes.

Golden.

Exactly like mine.

It’s probably coincidence.

Maybe Luna loved someone else after me. Maybe she found another man, tried to build something new.

I try to tell myself that.

But my gut whispers different.

My gut tells me I’ve already failed that little girl too.