Page 41 of Alien Assassin's Heir

“By tall, scaly, and brooding?” Elin says with a knowing smirk.

I blink. “What?”

“Oh, come on. You think no one notices the big red lizard hanging around Wildwood like he’s not seven feet of muscle and mystery? Half the settlement’s been watching the two of you like it’s a telenovela.”

I groan and bury my face in my hands. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Elin just laughs, a soft, breezy sound that makes the world feel a little less sharp around the edges. “Luna, honey, nooffense, but you glow like a damn sunlamp today. And trust me, that ain’t from vitamin D deficiency.”

I want to argue. But instead, my shoulders sag. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Good. Means you’re not lying to yourself.” She hands me a cup of rehydrated orange blossom tea—tastes like soap and nostalgia—and leans against the counter. “Look, I don’t know your whole story. I’ve never pushed. But I do know you’re one of the most stubborn, guarded women I’ve ever met. So if you let someone in… even a little? That means something.”

“I don’t know if it’s safe.”

“Is it ever?”

I sip the tea, grateful and annoyed all at once. “He doesn’t know.”

“About Solie?”

I nod.

Elin exhales slow. “And what happens if he finds out from someone else? Or worse… if hedoesn’tfind out and disappears again?”

A sharp pang pierces my chest. I squeeze the ceramic mug like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

“I’m scared,” I whisper.

“Good. Means it matters.”

We don’t say anything for a while. Just the quiet hum of the power cell charging. I think about Kraj’s hands on me, the way his voice softened when he spoke to me last night, the look in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t watching. Like I was something sacred. Something he didn’t deserve but wanted anyway.

I finish the tea and leave the medpatch in Elin’s care, promising to pick it up later. Outside, the sky burns with Arkosh’s late afternoon palette—amber clouds smeared across a fading orange sky. The wind kicks up dust that clings to my boots and chaps my cheeks, but I don’t rush.

I need this moment to breathe. Because tonight… I think I’m going to have to decide. Truth or safety. Love or distance.

Maybe Elin’s right. Maybe I do deserve happiness.

But what if it costs me everything?

I’m not staringat him.

That’s the lie I tell myself as I sit in the dim little command booth, fingers pretending to fly across the console as the system spits out shipping manifests I don’t care about. Outside the dusty window, heat shimmers off the duracrete as another skiff lifts off, engines whining like dying wasps. I pretend to check the status of a supply pallet, but really, I’m watching him. Kraj stands by the main road, one arm leaning against the fence like he’s part of the scenery. He’s chatting with a freighter pilot—a heavyset guy with one cybernetic eye and a laugh that carries even over the hiss of cooling vents.

I should look away. Hell, I should’ve stopped watching the second I recognized his broad shoulders and that easy, confident slouch that used to make me melt.

But I don’t.

Not until he glances up and meets my eyes through the grime-streaked glass.

That look—soft, deep, knowing—sinks its claws in.

I snap my gaze back to the console like a guilty teenager and slam my hand on the “close shift” icon with too much force.

By the time I shut down the booth and start locking up, he’s gone.

The air feels thicker without him in it.