Page 91 of Claimed By the Alien Assassin
I pull back, eyes brimming. “Novariaandhellstation hero with an assassin husband?”
He grins like a dare. “Sounds like a nightclub.”
I laugh, exhale a shaky laugh that feels like freedom. “I love you.”
He leans in for a quiet kiss: slow, weighted, full of unsaid promises. “I love you too.”
Later that morning, the ship’s briefing room is cluttered with star maps and supply logs. I’ve replied to the Academy—yes, I’ll come back once this mission is done. Dayn hovers near the door, providing armed support for the rest of the Hellfighter team preparing for departure. I close the comm and turn to him, heart swelling.
“You really think it’ll work?”
He crosses the room in two strides, hands anchoring on my shoulders. “Itwillwork, sunshine. You’ll teach them to fix starships and break hearts behind armor plating. They need you. But I need you too.”
I reach up and touch his face—his real face, the Shorcu beneath the inducer but now ever-present in my mind. His scaled jaw line, the edge of his ear, just beneath the comm array.
I whisper, “I need you.”
He kisses my palm. “Then we’ll need schedules.”
I grin, lifting his hand to my cheek. “I’ll build us time.”
He laughs. “You always do.”
Later, in the ship’s corridor, I brush past Garrus and other Hellfighter members loading supplies. They peek at me curiously when I stop to secure extra cable ties and diagnostic tools in my utility belt—it’s composition day, and I’m going to need more than my mech gear for lectures at Novaria.
Garrus sidles up, arms loaded with rations. “So, prof, gonna teach them to weld bombs or bridges?”
I slide him a grin. “Both. Classes start next trimester.”
He whistles. “Ambitious.” He claps me on the back. “They’ll be lucky to have you. And we’ll be up shit creek when you leave.”
I laugh. “You’re a hallway away.”
He shakes his head. “You’re unstoppable.”
That night, Dayn and I sit side by side on the observation deck, watching a blue-white supergiant star pulse on the viewplate. The thermal blanket is folded around our knees, warm from my last bout with engine oil and coffee.
“Novaria’s going public with your joint appointment,” I say softly. “They want a public announcement after the mission.”
He nods, but stays silent. I wonder if he sees the scope of the life I nearly left behind—or if he’s processing the fear of losing me to a globe far bigger than him.
Then he kisses my temple. “I want your students to see what courage looks like. And your enemies to know why they failed. And I want to build a family with you. One that stretches across star systems.”
My tears come then—hot and unashamed—glimmering in the star-lit darkness. I rest my head on his shoulder. “That’s exactly what I want too.”
He slips his hand into mine. “We’ll course-correct as we go.”
“We will.”
I breathe in his scent—steel, ocean, promise. I taste the salt of hope on my lips.
I whisper, “Let them all watch. Let the galaxy see.”
He squeezes my hand. “We’ll make them see.”
And in the hush of space, two dreamers anchor each other: no bigger choice, no wider difference, just an unshakable pact to bend the galaxy until it fits—not just their dreams, butbothof them.
CHAPTER 29
