Page 57 of Alien Assassin's Heir

I follow as he carries her to the skimmer. The canyon is hushed now, the air cooling, shadows stretching long. He tucks her into the back seat with a gentleness that tears at me, arranging her blanket, brushing her hair from her forehead.

And then—it’s just us.

The silence presses in. I lean against the skimmer, arms crossed, heart pounding too fast. He straightens, turns to me, his outline haloed by the last light spilling down the cliffs.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. The words scrape out, raw and fragile. “I don’t know how to protect you both.”

He steps closer, the warmth of him wrapping around me before his hands do. His claw brushes my hair back from my cheek, careful, reverent.

“Then let me protect you,” he says. His voice is rough, but his eyes—his eyes are fierce, molten gold burning into me.

I look up, breath catching, and for the first time in too long, I let myself believe him.

The canyon aircools as the suns slip fully behind the cliffs, shadows stretching long until the world is painted silver-blue. The pools glimmer faintly, reflecting Arkosh’s twin moons, one pale as bone, the other stained red like a drop of blood on silk.

We’re alone now—truly alone. Solie sleeps sound in the skimmer, wrapped in her blanket, her breaths even and steady. I stand by the water’s edge, the breeze tugging at my hair, and feel him come up behind me. His heat rolls over my back before his touch does.

“Luna,” he murmurs, my name catching low in his throat.

I turn, and the way he looks at me nearly undoes me—like I’m something holy, something precious, not the broken thing I know I am. His claws hover at my cheek before he finally cups it, thumb tracing the edge of my jaw. My breath stutters.

I don’t think. I just rise onto my toes and kiss him.

The first brush of his mouth is slow, testing, almost reverent. Then hunger surges, and I open to him, our tongues tangling, his growl vibrating through me. My hands fist in his jacket, tugging him closer, closer, until there’s no space left between us.

We sink together onto the blanket by the water. The canyon smells of damp stone and wild sage, but all I can taste is him—smoke, spice, heat. My body arches into his, every nerve lit.

“Say it,” he growls softly against my throat, his teeth grazing my skin.

“What?” My voice breaks on a gasp as his hands roam, clawed tips grazing without ever cutting.

“That you want this.” His lips trail down my collarbone, each word hot against me. “That you want me.”

“I do,” I whisper, then louder, firmer, desperate. “I do. Ialwaysdid.”

He groans, the sound raw, and then he’s kissing me again, fiercer now, as though he’s been starving for years. Maybe he has. I know I have.

We shed everything that separates us—layers of clothes, layers of fear, layers of the past. The night air bites at my bare skin, but his body covers mine, a furnace of heat, scales rough and smooth in turns. He moves over me like a prayer, like he’s asking and demanding all at once.

Our bodies find a rhythm, the canyon echoing with our breaths, our moans, the faint slap of skin against skin. Stars blur above me, sharp points of light swimming as pleasure builds.

“Luna,” he rasps, my name like worship on his tongue.

I clutch him closer, nails biting his shoulders. “Don’t stop,” I gasp. “Don’t ever stop.”

When release takes me, it rips through every barrier I’ve built, tearing me open until I can’t hold anything back. He follows, roaring low, his whole body shuddering as though the force of it is too much even for him.

Afterward, we collapse together, tangled in heat and sweat, the blanket beneath us damp with dew. My head rests in the crook of his arm, his heartbeat thundering under my ear. His claws trace idle patterns on my skin, tender, unthinking.

For a long while, neither of us speaks. The silence isn’t empty—it’s full, rich with the weight of what just happened.

I murmur, “This time… it wasn’t about the past.”

He shifts, looking down at me, eyes glowing like twin suns. “No,” he agrees. “It’s about now.”

I swallow hard, throat tight. “Then let it be enough.”

“It is.” He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering. “You are.”

The urge to tell him everything rises, sharp and insistent. To confess the truth about Solie, about her eyes, her scales, her blood. To rip open the secret festering in my chest and give it to him, let him decide what to do with it.

My mouth opens. The words gather.

But then he tightens his arm around me, pulling me close, his breath warm against my hair. “Sleep,” he whispers. “For once, sleep without fear.”

And I can’t. I can’t ruin this. Not yet.

So I shut my mouth, bury my face against his chest, and let myself believe in the lie of peace. Just for tonight. One more night of pretending we’re whole.

Because I don’t know yet that the storm is already moving in behind us.