Page 44 of Alien Assassin's Heir

CHAPTER 10

KRAJ

The cot beneath me is too narrow, the blanket too thin, the air too stale. None of it matters, because I wouldn’t be sleeping anyway. My eyes are on the ceiling—pitted prefab metal painted the color of despair—and all I see are hers. Those eyes. Not Luna’s. Not mine. Smaller. Brighter. A shade of gold I know too well.

The kid.

Solie.

I drag a hand over my face, claws scraping the stubble along my jaw. The recycled air tastes of dust and rusted copper. It should ground me. Instead, it just reminds me that I’m stuck in a hole, gnawing at questions that won’t let me rest.

She smiled at me. Like I mattered. Like I wasn’t just some bastard loitering outside her mother’s home. And the way she looked—stars damn it, she looks like Luna. The shape of her chin. The tilt of her nose. Even the way she squints before she grins. Too much of her mother, and just enough of something else. Something I recognize every time I look in the mirror.

But that can’t be. No. Luna would have told me. She would have spat it in my face the first moment she saw me again, usedit as a weapon. She wouldn’t keep something that big from me. Would she?

The memory of her arms wrapped around me last night crashes over me, warm and dangerous. The soft catch of her breath when I kissed her throat. The way she whispered my name like it belonged to her again. I want to drown in it. And I’m already sinking.

By dawn, I’ve given up pretending to rest. I drag myself upright, shoulders aching from tension I can’t shake, and strap on my boots. The metal buckles clink in the silence. I tie back my hair, check the charge on my sidearm, and tell myself I’m heading out because of the mission. Because of the courier. Because Targen’s orders don’t wait for sleeplessness.

Liar.

The sun beats down like a punishment by the time I’m in the streets of Wildwood again. Dust clings to my boots, my scales, the back of my throat. The settlement stinks of fried oil and old coolant, of sweat and desperation. I spot the courier easily. He always moves too quick, like he’s got somewhere better to be. Skinny frame, shabby Alliance-style jacket, eyes always darting. He’s sloppy. Amateur. Not someone who should be operating this far out on Combine territory. Which is exactly why I don’t trust him.

I follow at a distance, slipping through the crowd. It’s not hard. Most folks around here are too busy trading scraps for bread or chasing their kids to notice one more predator in their midst. I keep my head low, my steps light, my mind focused.

Or I try to.

Every corner I turn, I expect to see Luna. Every sound of laughter makes me think of the girl. I shake it off, force my attention back to the courier. He ducks into the comms tower again, same as yesterday. Same as the day before. He doesn’tstay long, just enough to upload something, then he’s out, hands shoved in his pockets like he’s afraid of his own shadow.

I should be watching him. But I’m thinking about Solie’s laugh, the way it bubbled up like water over stones when she grabbed my claw and called me warm. Warm. No one’s ever called me that before. Not like that.

The comm in my ear crackles. “You’re circling Luna like a predator,” Targen’s voice growls, sharp and metallic over the tight-beam channel. “This isn’t a love story, Kraj. Don’t lose focus.”

My jaw clenches. My tail lashes once, then stills. “I’m watching the courier,” I say flatly.

“Don’t piss on my intelligence,” Targen snaps. “You think I don’t know where your eyes wander? I’ve been in this game too long. I can smell weakness from a sector away.”

I stop in the shade of a collapsed arch, eyes on the street but voice low. “Careful what you call weakness.”

“Careful what you let it cost you,” Targen fires back. Then his tone shifts, colder, almost smug. “You want her? Fine. Screw her. Hold her. Pretend you’re still a man and not the Coalition’s failed pet project. But don’t you dare forget who you work for. One misstep, and she becomes another liability. Another loose end. You know how we handle those.”

My claws bite into the wall. Sparks fly as stone chips crumble beneath my grip. “You lay a hand on her?—”

“I don’t have to,” Targen interrupts. “Not if you remember why you’re there.”

The comm goes dead.

I stare at the street until the courier reemerges, heart hammering, blood hot in my veins. Targen thinks he’s got me by the throat. Maybe he does. But he doesn’t know how deep I’ve already fallen. He doesn’t know that if he so much as whispersher name in the wrong tone, I’ll cut every tether tying me to the Coalition and burn his whole damn network to the ground.

I keep following the courier, but my head’s not on the mission anymore. Not really. It’s on Luna. On Solie. On the terrifying thought that I might be more than just a shadow skulking in their orbit. That maybe, just maybe, I was never meant to be a weapon. Maybe I was meant to be something else. A protector. A mate. A father.

The word makes my chest ache.

Father.

Stars above, if it’s true—if she’s mine—I’ve already wasted three years I’ll never get back. Three years I should’ve been there, watching her take her first steps, listening to her babble, holding her when she cried. Instead, I was bleeding on battlefields for a cause that would spit on my grave without a second thought.

I don’t know if Luna will ever forgive me for that. I don’t know if I can forgive myself. But I do know one thing.