Page 53 of The Alien in the Archive (Galactic Librarians #1)

53

PAGE

T he cottage is too quiet.

It’s the kind of silence that seeps into my bones, heavy and unshakable. I’ve been holding myself together for hours—maybe days—but now that we’re home, now that the fight is over and Thorne is here, the silence feels unbearable.

Thorne stands by the window, looking out into the dark like he can see something I can’t. He hasn’t said much since we got back. I don’t blame him. The bond hums faintly between us now—quiet, tired—but at least it’s there.

After everything, I can’t ask for more than that.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, when there’s a knock at the door.

I freeze, pulse jumping. Thorne turns toward me, his brow furrowed, every muscle in his body going tense. Did she invite someone over…?

“No,” I murmur in response to his thoughts, already crossing the room. I glance back at Thorne, who doesn’t move, though his focus sharpens. He doesn’t need to say anything for me to know he’s ready for whoever’s out there. I reach out, searching for who might be here, and I find three familiar minds.

The knock comes again, firmer this time, and I brace myself as I open the door.

It’s Lyn.

And behind her are Riley and Thalara, standing shoulder to shoulder, looking…well, hopeful.

I blink at the three of them, my brain trying to catch up. Lyn looks different—tired, worn around the edges, with dark circles under her eyes and her wild curls pulled into a tight ponytail at the crown of her head. Riley gives me a small wave, his usual cocky grin absent, and Thalara clutches her datapad like it’s a lifeline.

“Page,” Lyn says, her voice hoarse. “Can we come in?”

I glance back at Thorne. He’s still watching from the window, his silver gaze sharp, but he nods ever so slightly. I turn back to the group on my doorstep, letting out a breath.

“Yeah.” I step aside. “Come in.”

They file in one by one, shuffling into the warm glow of the cottage. Lyn comes in slowly, followed by an ever-supportive Riley, but Thalara zeroes in on Ashlan right away.

“Were you a good boy waiting so patiently?” she coos as she drops to her knees, holding a hand out to Ashlan like she’s greeting royalty. The lumivix chirps happily, leaping into her arms without hesitation.

I can’t help it—I smile, just a little. “Careful, he’ll never leave you alone now.”

“That’s fine,” she murmurs, scratching his ears. “He’s perfect.”

Lyn, meanwhile, is hovering near the door, her arms crossed over her chest like she’s holding herself together. She glances between me and Thorne before finally meeting my gaze .

“I…I’m not here to make excuses,” she says, her voice quiet but firm. “I just…wanted to say I’m sorry.”

The words surprise me—and even more surprisingly, I realize I don’t want them. I stand there for a moment, staring at her, my chest tight. I thought I’d still be furious if I ever saw her again. I thought I’d want to yell or scream or something. But instead, I just feel…tired.

“I get why you did it,” I reply softly.

Lyn blinks. “You do?”

“Yeah,” I continue, letting out a slow breath. “I sat in that Tribunal and listened to Rhyss talk about what the Boreans did. I get it, Lyn. You weren’t wrong to be scared. And even though you were…you didn’t tell my secret—about my powers, I mean. And I’m so, so grateful for that.”

Lyn’s arms drop to her sides. Her shoulders slump, her face crumpling just a little before she quickly schools her expression. “I didn’t know what you were doing. I didn’t know what he was. All I saw was you…risking everything. For him.” She jerks her chin toward Thorne.

Thorne doesn’t react; he just watches her, impassive and silent.

“And you thought I was losing my mind,” I finish for her.

Lyn flinches at that, guilt flashing across her face. Her shoulders are stiff, her arms crossed tight, but her brown eyes meet mine without flinching. “Yeah,” she admits quietly. “I did. I told myself I was doing the right thing, but…” Her voice falters, and she shifts uncomfortably. “It wasn’t just about you, Page. It was about him too.”

She jerks her chin toward Thorne, who remains silent at my side. I can feel his presence like a steady current, his thoughts brushing softly against mine, waiting. Watching.

“I kept your secret about your powers,” Lyn continues, voice strained, “because I didn’t want to ruin your life completely. Not just because you’re my friend…but because yo u were scared. I saw it.” She pauses, and for a second, it looks like the words might choke her. “And because if I told anyone, they would have put you in a room just like the one he was in. Locked you up. I couldn’t…” She shakes her head. “I couldn’t do that to you, even if I thought you were wrong.”

The air feels heavier now. I watch Lyn as she fidgets—rolling her shoulders back, jaw tight, like she’s bracing for me to throw her words back at her.

It makes my chest ache.

Before I can respond, Thorne shifts. He steps forward, slow and deliberate, until he’s facing Lyn directly. She stiffens immediately, her expression going wary.

“I don’t need your apology,” he says softly, his deep voice like a calm tide. “You don’t owe me anything.”

Lyn’s eyebrows pull together in confusion, but she doesn’t interrupt.

Thorne holds her gaze, and there’s no anger in him, no coldness—just quiet gravity. “I understand what you saw. I understand the fear that came with it. You’re not wrong to hate what the Borean Empire did to your people. To your history. I can never undo it, but I can tell you this: I left because I could no longer live with what we had become. I ran when I should have fought.”

The room is silent. Lyn looks away, her throat working, but Thorne isn’t finished.

“I hid,” he continues, his tone soft but unyielding. “I chose cowardice because it was easier than facing the consequences of my people’s actions. That choice— my choice—cost others dearly. Maybe even people you loved.”

Lyn’s face twists, her hands curling into fists at her sides. I can feel her anger rising—not quite at him, but at everything. The Borean Empire. The Convergence. The messy, impossible history she’s been forced to reckon with.

Thorne doesn’t waver. “I don’t ask for your forgiveness,” he says. “I only ask for the chance to help mend what was broken.”

Lyn looks at him for a long time, her face unreadable. Finally, she exhales sharply and drops into one of the armchairs, like her legs can’t hold her up anymore.

“You’re both impossible,” she mutters, scrubbing a hand over her face. “You know that, right? Both of you. How do you do this?”

I blink, caught off guard. “Do what?”

She throws up a hand, gesturing wildly at the two of us. “Make me feel like the bad guy even though I’m still mad at you!”

Riley, who’s been lurking near the edge of the room with his arms crossed, snorts. “Because you are the bad guy.”

Lyn shoots him a withering glare. “Shut up, Riley.”

“Just saying,” he smirks, but his voice softens a little as he moves to lean against the wall. “You don’t get points for saving the day, but you showed up. That counts.”

Lyn rolls her eyes, but there’s a flicker of something else there now—relief, maybe. But it’s like she’s waiting for someone to tell her it’s okay to feel conflicted.

“You’re not the bad guy,” I say, and she looks up at me. “I was scared too, Lyn. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. But you didn’t tell anyone about my powers, and you’re here now. That means something.”

Her expression softens, just barely. “Orin doesn’t think so. He’s still furious about the whole thing.”

I nod, swallowing the sting of that. “Maybe he will, eventually. Maybe he won’t. Either way…you’re here, and you want to help. That’s a start.”

Lyn swallows hard, her gaze darting toward Thorne before coming back to me. “You really trust him?” she asks, quieter this time.

“Yes,” I reply without hesitation .

Thorne’s presence brushes against my mind like a soft touch, and I feel his gratitude—his steady, quiet belief in me.

Lyn sighs and slouches further in her chair, scrubbing a hand through her hair. “Then…I’ll try to trust him too. I’m not saying I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all we’re asking,” Thalara chimes in, speaking for the first time since Thorne stepped forward. She sets Ashlan down gently, smiling when he chirps in protest. “You don’t have to fix everything today. Just help us.”

“And take on coffee runs for a while,” Riley adds.

Lyn hesitates, then lets out a long breath. “Fine,” she mutters. “But I’m still not doing tea runs.”

“Yes, you are,” Riley says immediately.

“Absolutely not.”

“You owe her,” Thalara points out, raising an eyebrow.

Thorne cuts in. “Maybe I should get the next few rounds of coffee. I think my favor deficit is probably lowest.”

“With what money?” I ask, scoffing at him.

He shrugs. “Yours.”

I can’t stop the laugh that slips out, and even Lyn cracks a reluctant smile. The tension in the room eases—not completely, but enough that I can breathe again.

Thorne steps closer to me, his presence grounding me as I lean my shoulder against his. Through the bond, I feel his thoughts—quiet, steady warmth. We’ll figure it out.

“You promised me coffee,” Riley says, grinning at Thorne. “I’m holding you to that.”

Lyn groans dramatically, but this time it’s easier. Softer. Thalara rolls her eyes with a fond smile, and I look at all of them—Lyn, Riley, Thalara, and Thorne—and feel something shift in my chest.

For the first time in a long time, the world feels a little less broken.

And the pieces that still are…? We’ll figure it out.