Page 19 of Signed, Sealed, Seduced (You’ve Got Alien Mail #1)

“And yet I feel more... real here than I have anywhere else.” She looks up at me, vulnerability and determination warring in her expression. “With you, I’m not just a courier. Not just a delivery system. I’m... seen.”

The admission strikes something deep within me, a resonance I had not expected to find with this human female who crashed into my life mere cycles ago.

“I see you, Suki Vega,” I tell her, the words emerging with a solemnity that surprises even me. “I have from the moment you stood before me and refused to be what others expected.”

Her smile then is like nothing I have witnessed before—not the sharp, defensive grin she uses as armor, nor the polite expression she adopts when navigating unfamiliar territory. This smile transforms her entire being, radiating a warmth that seems to reach past my carefully constructed defenses.

“So,” she says, her voice lighter now, though I can detect the tension beneath. “If I were to stay. Hypothetically. What would that look like? What would I be? A permanent guest? A diplomatic liaison? A fortress mascot?”

The question should be simple to answer. Yet I find myself considering not just the practical implications, but what I want her to be. What I need her to be.

“You would be,” I say carefully, “whatever you choose to be. Your skills are considerable. Your perspective, valuable. There are many roles you could fill within Zater Reach, should you wish to.”

I step closer, drawn by the pull I can no longer deny. “But more than that, you would be... necessary. To the fortress. To me.”

Her breath catches audibly, and I see the way her pulse flutters at the base of her throat. “Necessary,” she repeats, the word soft on her lips.

“Yes.” I close more of the distance between us, until I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes, can feel the warmth radiating from her smaller form. “You have become essential to my existence in ways I did not expect and cannot fully explain.”

“And us?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “What would we be, Henrok?”

She says my name correctly, the sound of it in her voice creating a sensation I cannot fully describe—warmth, recognition, belonging. Something that feels dangerously close to home.

“We would be,” I say, my voice dropping to match hers, “whatever we choose to become. Together.”

It is not a declaration of intent. Not a promise. Merely an acknowledgment of possibility—yet it feels more significant than any oath I have sworn in three centuries of existence.

She takes another step closer, close enough now that I can detect the subtle scent of her—that sharp, clean smell like the air after a lightning storm. Her head tilts back to maintain eye contact, the difference in our heights more apparent than ever.

“That’s a pretty open-ended answer for someone who usually deals in absolutes,” she observes, though her tone holds no criticism.

“You,” I tell her with complete honesty, “are not an absolute. You are a variable I did not anticipate. A constant I did not expect to need.”

Her laugh then is genuine, a sound that echoes through the empty launch bay and seems to fill spaces within me I had not realized were hollow.

“A variable and a constant,” she repeats, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You have a way with words, Warlord.”

“Only with you,” I admit, the confession slipping out before I can stop it.

Something shifts in her expression, a deepening of the awareness between us. “Only with me,” she echoes, and there’s something wondering in her tone.

“You have affected me,” I continue, no longer able to hold back the words. “Changed me. Made me remember that I am more than just duty and command.”

She reaches out, her hand hovering near mine without quite touching. “What are you saying, Henrok?”

“I am saying,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine, “that I would have you stay. Not as a guest, not as an obligation, but as... yourself. As the woman who sees past the armor to something worth saving.”

Her fingers are small against my palm, delicate yet strong, and I can feel the slight tremor that runs through her at the contact. When she speaks, her voice is breathless.

“You’re not asking me to stay just because I’m useful. You’re asking because you want me here.”

“I am asking,” I correct, my thumb brushing across her knuckles, “because the thought of you leaving creates a void I do not know how to fill. Because you have become necessary to my existence in ways that have nothing to do with tactical advantage.”

“And everything to do with?” she prompts, her eyes searching mine.

“Everything to do with the fact that I am falling in love with you,” I say simply.

The admission hangs between us like a bridge—terrifying in its implications, yet somehow inevitable.

I have spent three centuries building walls around my heart, constructing barriers between myself and anything that might prove vulnerable.

Yet this small human female has somehow found every crack in my defenses, every weakness in my armor.

“Henrok,” she breathes, and my name on her lips sounds like a prayer.

“I know it is impossible,” I continue, needing to say it all before courage fails me. “I know I have no right to ask you to abandon your life, your freedom, for an uncertain future with a warlord who may never be able to give you what you deserve.”

“What do you think I deserve?” she asks, stepping closer still, until there’s barely a breath of space between us.

I look down at her, this remarkable woman who has turned my ordered existence into chaos and somehow made it better for the disruption.

“Everything,” I tell her honestly. “You deserve everything the galaxy can offer. Peace, adventure, freedom to choose your own path. Not the constraints of life with someone like me.”

Her free hand comes up to rest against my chest, over the place where my heart beats with increasing urgency. “What if what I want is you?”

The question stops my breath. “Suki...”

“What if I want the warlord who shows me ion storms and trusts me with ancient droids? What if I want the man who sees me as more than just a courier, who makes me feel like I matter?” Her voice grows stronger, more certain.

“What if I want the life we could build together, even if it’s complicated and uncertain and completely different from anything I’ve ever known? ”

I cover her hand with my free one, holding it against my chest where she can feel the rapid beating of my heart. “Then I would spend every day of my existence ensuring you never regret that choice.”

“I wouldn’t,” she says with such certainty that I almost believe her. “Regret it, I mean. I’ve spent my whole life playing it safe, taking the easy jobs, avoiding complications. But you... you make me want to be brave.”

“You are already brave,” I tell her, lifting our joined hands to my lips. “You were brave enough to crash into my life and change everything.”

The kiss I press to her knuckles is soft, reverent, but it sends electricity shooting through both of us. I can see it in the way her breath catches, in the darkening of her eyes, in the slight lean of her body toward mine.

“So,” she says, her voice slightly unsteady, “I’m staying. For real this time. Not just until my ship is fixed or the crisis is resolved. I’m staying.”

“Are you certain?” I ask, though everything in me hopes she will not change her mind.

“I’m terrified,” she admits with that honesty I’ve come to treasure. “But I’m certain. You’ve become necessary to me too, Henrok. More than necessary. You’ve become... home.”

The word hits me like a physical blow, so unexpected and perfect that I cannot speak for a moment. Home. I had forgotten what that word meant, had convinced myself that duty and command were sufficient substitutes for belonging.

“Home,” I repeat, testing the word on my tongue.

“Yes.” She smiles, that transformative expression that makes everything else fade away. “Home.”

Unable to resist any longer, I release her hand and cup her face gently in my palms, marveling at the softness of her skin, the warmth of her cheek against my palm.

“You realize,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion, “that I will never let you go now. That you have bound yourself to a being who does not know how to love with anything less than his entire existence.”

“Promise?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with something that might be tears or might be joy.

“Promise,” I confirm, lowering my head until our foreheads touch.

The contact is electric, intimate in a way that transcends the physical. I can feel her breath against my skin, can sense the rapid flutter of her pulse, can detect the subtle change in her scent that speaks to her arousal.

“Henrok,” she whispers, and the sound of my name combined with her proximity makes every carefully constructed wall I’ve built around my desire crumble.

“Yes?”

“I think,” she says, her voice barely audible, “that we should probably continue this conversation somewhere more private.”

The suggestion sends heat racing through me, desire and anticipation combining into something almost overwhelming. “Are you certain?” I ask, though I’m not sure I could stop now even if she said no.

“I’m certain,” she confirms, her hands sliding up my chest to rest at my shoulders. “I want you, Henrok. All of you. The warlord, the man, the impossible, complicated future we’re going to build together.”

“Then come,” I say, stepping back reluctantly and offering her my hand. “Come home with me, Suki Vega.”

She takes my hand without hesitation, her fingers intertwining with mine with a rightness that feels like destiny.

“Home,” she repeats, and the word sounds like a promise.

As we leave the launch bay together, her ship abandoned in favor of a future neither of us could have imagined, I realize that sometimes the best things do come in unexpected packages.