Page 69 of Alien Assassin's Heir

He has no answer.

Of course he doesn’t.

I push back from the table, my chair scraping across the floor. “Get out.”

He stands slowly, towering over the small room but somehow seeming smaller than I’ve ever seen him. His eyes linger on me like he’s memorizing my face, and then he turns toward the door.

That’s when I hear the soft patter of feet.

“Mama?” Solie’s sleepy voice carries from the hallway. My heart lurches as she rubs her eyes with tiny fists, her hair sticking out in wild tufts.

Before I can stop her, she shuffles into the room. Her gaze lands on Kraj, and her whole face lights up.

“Kraj!” she squeals, and before either of us can react, she runs forward and throws her little arms around his leg.

He freezes. Completely still, like the air itself has gone solid around him. His hand hovers awkwardly above her head, claws flexing, then slowly—hesitantly—he rests his palm against her back.

“Don’t go,” she pleads, tilting her face up at him with a wide grin that shows her tiny teeth.

My throat closes. “Solie?—”

But she’s already speaking again, her little voice clear, certain. She presses her small hand to his chest, right over his heart, and says with the innocent conviction only a child can hold:

“Mama says my heart is part yours.”

The world stops.

I gasp, the sound sharp in the still room, my hands flying to my mouth.

Kraj goes utterly still, his golden eyes wide, pupils blown wide as if a plasma bolt just ripped through him. His breath catches like he’s been struck.

For a moment, no one moves. No one breathes.

The truth—hangs in the air between us, undeniable, inescapable.

And I know, with a certainty that chills me to the bone, nothing will ever be the same again.