Page 34 of Alien Attachment (You’ve Got Alien Mail #2)
The transfer completes with a soft chime that sounds like music to my ears. I disconnect the extractor, securing Lila’s matrix safely in its padded container. “Got her,” I announce through our bond, standing with my precious cargo clutched to my chest. “Ready for extraction.”
The eastern exit is currently clear, Jhorn responds. Move now, my light.
I make my way out of the Nomad with one final, regretful glance at what was once my home. There’s no time for sentimentality—the chaos Jhorn created won’t last long, and we need to be gone before order is restored.
I sprint across the hangar floor, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Jhorn meets me at the eastern exit, his cloak billowing around him as he moves with that preternatural grace that never fails to amaze me.
“Nice light show,” I whisper as we slip into the corridor beyond.
“A simple manipulation of their power distribution nodes,” he replies modestly, though I feel his satisfaction through our bond. “I may have also introduced some creative errors into their inventory management system.”
Our return journey is more direct than our approach—with Lila secured, speed takes priority over stealth.
We encounter a pair of Brotherhood thugs near the maintenance shaft entrance, but Jhorn deals with them before they can raise an alarm, his tendrils emerging from beneath his cloak to render them unconscious with disturbing efficiency.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” I mutter as we step over their crumpled forms.
“Impossible,” he responds with complete seriousness. “You are my light. I have no ‘bad side’ where you are concerned.”
The simple statement, delivered with such absolute certainty, makes my heart skip a beat. Even after months together, he can still surprise me with the depth of his devotion.
We reach The Starlight Tether with twelve minutes remaining on Jhorn’s disruption field.
I waste no time initiating the launch sequence while Jhorn disconnects from the station’s systems, carefully erasing any trace of our presence with the thoroughness of someone who really doesn’t want to be followed.
“Disengaging docking clamps,” I announce, hands flying over the controls with practiced precision. “Preparing for silent running.”
The ship detaches from the maintenance port with barely a tremor. I guide us away from Obsidian Haven using minimal thrusters, relying on momentum and the station’s natural rotation to carry us clear before engaging the main engines.
“We’re clear,” Jhorn confirms after several tense minutes of silent running. “No pursuit detected. No alarms. As far as they know, we were never here.”
I slump back in my seat, the adrenaline that’s been keeping me going suddenly draining away, leaving me shaky and exhausted. “We did it,” I breathe, clutching the container holding Lila’s matrix to my chest like a treasure. “We actually did it.”
Jhorn moves to stand beside me, one tendril gently brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Did you doubt we would succeed?”
“About seventeen contingency plans’ worth of doubt,” I admit with a shaky laugh.
His expression softens, bond-lines pulsing with an emotion that flows warm and steady through our connection. “Your friend is safe now. As are you.”
The reality of what we’ve just accomplished hits me all at once—the danger we faced, the success against overwhelming odds, the precious cargo we’ve recovered. Exhilaration surges through me, a heady cocktail of relief and triumph and overwhelming gratitude.
“You were amazing back there,” I say, standing to face him. “That power surge trick, the way you handled those guards, how you kept me calm through the whole thing—”
“I merely ensured your safety,” he interrupts, though I feel his pleasure at my praise through our bond. “The plan was yours. The courage was yours. I was simply... technical support.”
“We’re a good team,” I insist, stepping closer to him. The adrenaline still coursing through my system transforms into a different kind of energy, a heat that builds between us like a living thing.
Jhorn’s eyes darken, his bond-lines pulsing more rapidly as he senses the shift in my emotions. “You are reckless, my Kaylee,” he says, his voice dropping to a rougher register that sends shivers down my spine.
I grin up at him, riding the high of our success. “And you love it, tentacles.”
His response is immediate and overwhelming.
His cloak falls to the floor as he pulls me against him, tendrils emerging to wrap around my waist and trace the line of my jaw with reverent touches.
His mouth finds mine in a kiss that’s hungry and possessive, channeling all the tension and fear of the past hours into something primal and electric.
I respond with equal fervor, my fingers digging into the firm flesh of his shoulders as I press myself against him. Through our bond, I feel his relief at my safety transforming into desperate need—a need that mirrors my own.
“I think,” I say breathlessly when we finally break apart, “we should celebrate properly once we’re back home.”
His eyes blaze with promise, bioluminescence flaring bright enough to illuminate the entire cockpit. “I have several ideas for how we might... commemorate our success.”
“Good,” I whisper, already anticipating the ways he’ll worship my body once we’re safe in our hideout. “Because after that rush, I’m going to need you to remind me I’m alive.”
Through our bond, I feel his answering hunger, his fierce possessiveness, his overwhelming love. Whatever comes next, we’ve proven we can face anything together—and right now, all I want is to lose myself in his touch and forget everything except the way he makes me feel.
“Home first,” he agrees, his voice rough with restraint. “Then I will show you exactly how alive you are, my Kaylee. In exquisite detail.”
The promise in his words sends heat racing through me, and I settle into the pilot’s seat with anticipation building in my chest. Soon, very soon, I’ll have both my family and my alien partner celebrating our victory in all the ways that matter most.