Page 40 of Alien Assassin's Heir

CHAPTER 9

LUNA

Ilook different. It’s not the lighting. It’s not the mirror being warped from years of steam. It’s me. My fingertips trace the edges of my lips like they’re someone else’s, like maybe I can still feel him there, etched into the softness from last night. My skin glows faintly, flushed in a way that’s got nothing to do with temperature. But beneath it all, there’s something curled in my gut—a gnawing twist of guilt, shame, and something worse.

Hope.

I shake my head and pull my hair back into a tie. The reflection stares back at me, and she looks like a woman walking a wire stretched taut over a pit. Stupid. Stupid, stupid. I was supposed to be stronger than this. I let him in. Into my bed. Into my arms. Into mylifeagain.

“Mama!”

Solie’s voice slices through the fog, bright and bubbling. Her little feet patter down the hall like a herd of miniature stampeding rhinos. She crashes into me at full speed, arms looping around my waist like she’s never going to let go. I stagger, but catch her instinctively, holding her to my side. She’s warm, all tangled curls and too-big pajama sleeves.

“Did you know I dreamed about a dragon who had sparkles for wings?” she chirps, eyes wide and gold and so full of wonder it physically hurts.

“No, really? Sparkles?”

“Uh-huh. And he let me ride on his back, but we had to be careful ‘cause there were bad guys with nets trying to catch us. But the dragon was really fast and we got away and then—Mama?”

Her voice dips when she looks up at me. I must be making a face. Something strained.

“I’m just tired, baby,” I lie, kneeling down so we’re face-to-face. I brush a loose curl off her forehead and plant a kiss there. “You and your dragons, huh? Maybe you should start writing these dreams down.”

Solie beams. “That’s what I told Mr. Bunny!”

“Oh well, if Mr. Bunny says so…”

She giggles, and my chest tightens with a terrifying, protective ache. I pull her in and squeeze her close. “I love you more than anything in this whole dumb universe.”

“I love you more than spaceships,” she says, serious as a heart attack.

I almost laugh. Instead, I breathe her in. Her scent’s a cocktail of little kid—fabric softener, crumbs, and some dusty hint of something that always reminds me she’s not entirely human. A subtle musk that never quite washes out. I press my lips to her hair and hold on like I can stop the world from spinning. Like I can pretend that I’m not hiding a galaxy-sized secret from her. From Kraj. From everyone.

But I can’t pretend for long. Not anymore.

Later that afternoon, I pack Solie’s medpatch and an old power cell into a shoulder bag and tell the crèche staff I need a quick errand run. Solie waves goodbye with both hands and a crooked grin, completely unaware of the war I’m waging in myown head. The tram to the medical outpost bumps along its rails, old suspension whining like a banshee on the curves. The whole way there, I rehearse what I’m going to say.

“Elin, how do you tell a man you slept with last night that he’s the father of your child you’ve been hiding from him for three years?”

No. Too blunt.

“Elin, you ever kept a secret so long it grew roots?”

Ugh.

“Hey, remember that time I told you Solie’s dad ran off before I could tell him I was pregnant? What if I lied?”

Nothing sounds right. It never will.

The clinic sits in the shadow of an old cargo crane, converted into a patchwork med center and solar array. Elin greets me with a crooked smile and tired eyes. She’s always got that same lavender scarf wrapped around her throat, like a second skin, and smells like antiseptic and citrus oil.

“Power cell dead again?” she asks, taking the device from me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Cheap knockoff. Won’t hold a charge.”

She sets it on the workbench and hooks it into a diagnostic port, then gestures for me to sit. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”

“Didn’t,” I admit. “I was… distracted.”