Kaerius
The soft hum of the council chamber’s holo-table filled the room, its blue light casting shifting shadows over the curved walls.
My hand rested lightly on the edge as I watched the glowing projection of the Ondrithar territory: the shape of the palace ship, the edge of the seashelf, our pastures, and our town.
Across from me, Samantha was adjusting the controls, her fingers swift and certain as she fine-tuned the frequency.
Two weeks.
It had been two weeks since she arrived on Sanos, since she stormed into my life like an unexpected tide and refused to be swept away.
Two weeks since I nearly lost her to the Shadefin spores, only to watch her survive—no, conquer—what had once been an assured death sentence.
The hydrochloric acid solution had worked.
What had seemed a desperate gamble had turned into our greatest weapon, giving us control over the infestation that had plagued us for generations.
We had burned through entire nests with it, driving the Shadefin back into the Abyss where they belonged.
It was not a permanent solution.
It did not kill anything but the spore stage of the Shadefin, but we could now heal our warriors and prevent the nasty beasts from breeding.
It was a start—a very good start—that had brought peace, stability, and hope.
And now there was another step forward.
I let my gaze drift to the holo-map of Sanos, where a new marker had been placed—a small island within my territory, one that would soon become home to the humans of the USS Legacy .
That is, if we could reach them and if they were willing to accept the terms Samantha and I had agreed upon.
“You sure this will work?” Samantha asked, glancing up at me with that skeptical expression I had come to love.
She shifted uneasily on her feet, and I flicked my eyes from her pretty face down her curvy body, heat simmering through my veins.
“I had my engineers repair your communicator,” I said, watching as she tapped a final command into the console.
“If your ship is within range, it should reach them.” My engineers were no longer learned enough to repair the entire Ondrithar ship or to keep all its intricate systems running, but they knew how to repair water-damaged circuits, and that had done the trick.
She exhaled slowly, then hit the transmit button.
A small light blinked green.
We waited.
For the first time in days, uncertainty settled in my chest.
The thought of her people taking her back, of her stepping onto that ship and leaving this world—leaving me—sent a sharp, unwelcome pain through me.
The static on the comm remained unbroken, but she did not look concerned.
Instead, she turned to me, her lips curving into a soft smile.
“It’s strange,” she mused, “how different everything feels now.”
I tilted my head.
“Explain.”
She leaned against the table, her fingers tracing absent patterns along its edge.
“When I first got here, all I could think about was getting back to my people, making sure we had a place to survive.” Her eyes met mine, warm and steady.
“But now… this is my place. I don’t need a lab aboard a ship, not when there’s so much more I can do here.”
Warmth spread through me, but I kept my expression neutral.
“So you would stay?” I couldn’t allow myself to hope that she was saying she’d remain—the possibility of losing her so soon after she’d nearly died twice was too much.
I would not allow it, but I had to ask all the same.
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing mine.
“Kaerius, I am staying.” Her smile was beautiful, radiant, and her exotic brown eyes glimmered with happiness.
Relief crashed over me like a wave, and I did not fight the instinct that told me to move—to close the space between us.
My hand captured hers, pulling her toward me.
“Good,” I murmured, my voice low.
“Because I would not let you go.”
She arched a brow.
“Possessive, much?”
“Completely.”
Her laughter was bright and effortless, and I found myself aching to hear it again and again.
She reached up, resting her palm against my chest, just over my heart.
“I love you, Kaerius.”
The words settled into me—deep and unshakable—like they had always belonged there.
I caught her chin, tilting her face up to mine.
“And I you, Samantha.” My lips brushed against hers—a soft vow against her skin.
“My life is better this way.”
The static on the comm crackled, and a voice cut through the silence.
“USS Legacy receiving. Samantha, is that you?”
THE END