Page 91 of Alien Assassin's Heir

She doesn’t notice my silence—she just throws her arms around my neck, giggling, scales flashing faintly again as her joy bursts out of her. I hold her tight, burying my face in her hair, hiding the tears burning hot down my cheeks.

That night, back at the settlement, Luna builds a fire outside our small dome home. The wood crackles, throwing sparks into the night. The air smells of roasted roots and smoke. Solie falls asleep curled in a blanket, her head in my lap, fingers still sticky from honeyfruit.

I look across the fire. Luna sits with her knees drawn up, flamelight painting her hair molten gold. She looks at me, at us, and her smile is so full of peace it almost hurts to see.

In that moment, I understand.

Love isn’t passion. It isn’t obsession. It isn’t the hunger that’s devoured me for years. Love is this. Love is presence. Being here. Staying.

I reach across the fire, take her hand. My voice is low, raw. “Whatever happens next, you’re my home.”

Her smile softens into something I’ve never seen before, something that strips me bare. She leans forward, touches my face with her palm, warm and steady.

“And you’re ours.”

The fire pops. The stars turn overhead. Solie shifts in her sleep, murmuring nonsense, her little hand pressed to my chest.