Page 18

CHAPTER 18

SHOMUN

T he basket of the hot air balloon sways gently as we ascend, the burner roaring to life intermittently to keep us aloft. Below, the Gulf of Mexico stretches out like a vast, shimmering sheet of glass, the horizon painted in strokes of orange and pink as the sun dips toward the water. New Orleans sparkles in the distance, its lights flickering on one by one as dusk settles over the city. The air is crisp, carrying the faint salt tang of the sea, and Claire leans against the edge of the basket, her honey blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight.

“It’s so beautiful up here,” she says, her voice soft, almost reverent. “I’ve seen sunsets before, but never like this. It’s like… the whole world is on fire, but in the best way.”

I pop the cork on the champagne bottle, the sound sharp and satisfying, and pour her a glass. She takes it, her fingers brushing against mine, and gives me a smile that makes my hearts—both of them—skip a beat.

“To us,” I say, raising my own glass. “And to the first of many sunsets we’ll see together.”

She clinks her glass against mine, her green eyes sparkling. “To us,” she echoes, taking a sip. She leans back, savoring the champagne, her gaze drifting back to the horizon.

I open the small cooler beside me and pull out a tin of caviar, spreading it delicately on premium crackers. I hand one to Claire, and she bites into it with a satisfied hum.

“You always know how to spoil me,” she says, licking a bit of caviar from her thumb.

“It’s not spoiling if it’s deserved,” I reply, my voice low. I set the tin aside and take her hands in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin against my scales. “Claire, you’ve… you’ve changed everything for me. Your courage, your humility, your intelligence—your empathy. You constantly surprise me. I thought I knew what perfection was before I met you, but you’ve shown me I had no idea. I feel like the luckiest Vakutan in all of time and space to have you by my side.”

She laughs, a sound that’s light and melodic, and tilts her head at me. “You’re either about to tell me you have a terminal disease, or you’re about to propose marriage.”

I sink to one knee in the basket, the rough weave of the wicker pressing into my scales. I pull a small velvet box from my pocket and open it, revealing a ring that catches the fading light, its facets gleaming like stars.

“It’s the second one,” I tell her. “Claire Redding, will you marry me?”

Claire’s eyes well up with tears, but they’re the good kind, the kind that humans spill when they’re overwhelmed with joy. She nods, her lips pressed together like she’s holding back a sob, and I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly, of course. I measured her finger in her sleep three nights ago.

“I knew you were up to something all week long,” she says, her voice shaky but teasing. “I just didn’t know what.”

Her hands tug at my shoulders, pulling me to my feet so she can kiss me. I’ve kissed her a hundred times, maybe more, but this one—this one is different. The sun’s final rays paint the sky in hues of orange and gold, and her lips are soft, warm, insistent. I could lose myself in this moment forever.

When we finally break apart, she’s breathless, her cheeks flushed. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close as the balloon drifts lazily across the sky. The stars begin to emerge, one by one, their faint light twinkling against the deepening darkness.

“Which one’s yours?” she asks, tilting her head back to look at me. “Your star, I mean.”

I chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “Vakuta’s star? You can’t see it from Earth’s surface. Stellar parallax and sheer distance make it impossible. But—” I pause, brushing a strand of honey-blonde hair from her face. “Home isn’t a place in the stars, Claire. It’s a place in your heart.”

She smiles up at me, her green eyes glistening. “My home is wherever you are.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the chest, but in the best way. I tighten my arm around her, pulling her closer as we drift over the ocean. The sound of the waves below is faint, almost imperceptible, but it’s there, a steady rhythm that matches the beat of my hearts.

“So,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence. “You knew I was up to something?”

“Yes,” she replies, grinning now. “But I guessed totally wrong. I thought you were just planning on doing something really freaky to me in the bedroom.”

I laugh, the sound carrying on the night air. “The evening is young. Don’t rule anything out yet.”

“Ready to go home?” I ask, my hand brushing against hers as I reach for the control panel. The remnants of our champagne still linger in the air, sweet and effervescent.

“Yes,” Claire says, her smile softening as she leans into my side. “Though I could stay up here forever.”

“Noted.” I grin and flip a switch on the dashboard with a practiced flick of my claws. The holographic disguise of the hot air balloon shudders, then collapses like a veil being torn away. Beneath it, the sleek, Vakutan shuttle glints in the starlight, its open-air deck revealing the intricate circuitry and glowing panels of Alliance engineering. Claire gasps, her grip tightening on my arm.

“Whoa,” she whispers, her voice tinged with awe. “It’s beautiful. And… terrifying.”

“That’s the idea,” I say, my tone light but proud. I toggle the thrusters to life, and the shuttle hums, the sound low and resonant. “Hold on.”

The shuttle shoots forward, slicing through the night air like a blade. Claire lets out a yelp, her nails digging into my scales as the city lights blur beneath us. I glance at her, my grin widening. “Scared?”

“A little!” She clings tighter, her eyes wide but sparkling with adrenaline. “How fast are we going?”

“Fast enough to outrun anything Earth has to offer,” I say, my voice steady. “But don’t worry. The inertial dampeners and artificial gravity will keep you safe. You’re strapped in tighter than a Pi’Rell’s belt.”

She laughs, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Good to know. But can we not test the limits of your fancy tech?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I say, my claws hovering over the controls. My red eyes gleam with mischief as I glance at her. “Trust me.”

“Simon—” she starts, but I’ve already pulled the stick back. The shuttle’s nose tips upward, and we’re soaring straight toward the stars before I roll us into a loop. Claire’s scream pierces the night, high and panicked, and I laugh.

“We’re not falling!” I shout over the rush of wind. “Look!”

The shuttle completes the loop, and we’re right side up again, the city lights sprawling beneath us in a glittering tapestry. Claire’s chest heaves, her face pale but her eyes blazing.

“You’re just the worst,” she says, punching me in the shoulder. Her fist bounces off my scales, and she winces. “Ow. You act like you don’t want to get any tonight or something.”

I gasp, clutching my chest in mock horror. “Claire, that’s cruel. You wouldn’t deprive your poor, loving fiancé, would you?”

She bursts out laughing, the sound rich and unrestrained, and I feel a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the shuttle’s engines. Her laughter fades into a soft smile, and she leans her head against my shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” she murmurs. “But I love you anyway.”

“Good,” I say, teasing. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

I keep the shuttle steady as we glide back toward the city, Claire’s warmth pressed against my side as the wind whips through her hair. I glance at her again, feeling something. Pride, maybe. Gratitude. Love. She’s fearless in ways I never expected, and I realize, not for the first time, that she’s more than a match for a Vakutan warrior.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.