“Selene.” He says my name like a prayer, or maybe a plea.
“But I was wrong. Everything you showed me, everything you were with me—that was real. You didn’t hide who you were. You were honest about everything that mattered.” Another hiccup escapes me. “I’m the one who didn’t ask the right questions. I’m the one who assumed things instead of communicating.”
His hands come up to cup my face, thumbs gently wiping away tears. The gesture is so tender it makes my chest ache.
“I shouldn’t have kept my mission from you,” he says quietly. “You deserved to know why I was really there. I just... I thought if you knew I was only there for political reasons, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Only there for political reasons?” I let out a watery laugh. “Khatak, you stayed with me instead of going to your meeting. You chose me over your mission.”
His skin darkens to that deep burgundy flush I love. “I did.”
“Why?”
“Because being with you mattered more. You matter more.” He says it simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You make me feel like maybe I am enough exactly as I am. Not as a diplomat, not as a warrior, not as anything except... me.”
Fresh tears spill down my cheeks, but these ones don’t hurt. “You are enough. You’re more than enough.”
He stares at me like I’ve just told him the sky is green or gravity has reversed. Like the concept is so foreign he can’t quite process it.
“I love you,” I tell him, because the words are right there and I’m done being afraid. “I love you exactly as you are. I love the way you flush when you’re embarrassed, the way your tail gives away everything you’re feeling. All of it. I wouldn’t change anything at all about you.”
“How?” The word is barely audible. “How can you love me after?—”
“After you showed me who you really are? After you trusted me with your vulnerabilities? You were so honest with me, even when it didn’t benefit you. You were genuine and caring and perfect,” I say, my mind thinking back to those moments like when he screamed in the haunted house. “That’s exactly why I love you.”
He crushes me against his chest, his face buried in my hair. I can feel his whole body shaking.
“I love you so much,” Khatak groans into my neck, his words hot against my skin like they’ve been dragged from somewhere deep inside of him. His heart.
“I never want to leave you, to be apart from you,” he admits. “I’d do anything for you, Selene. I’d give anything to make you happy. Even if it meant being apart from you.”
I lean back enough to stare up at him, his determined face blurry through my haze of tears.
“I know,” I tell him, cupping his cheek. Because I realize that now. He was willing to give up on his own happiness for mine.
Reaching onto my tiptoes, my arms sliding around his neck and threading through his hair, I angle my mouth on top of his and kiss him. It’s not hard or fast or desperate. It’s soft and tender and all my emotion goes into it. My hopes and dreams.
And all the while, Khatak holds me like I am precious. Like everything I’m giving him is something worth treasuring.
We stand there, clinging to each other in the middle of the shuttle’s corridor, probably looking like absolute disasters. My hair is everywhere, my face is tear-stained, and I’m pretty sure I have bruises forming on my shins. Khatak’s shirt is wrinkled from where I grabbed it, his careful composure completely shattered.
We’re perfect.
“Excuse me.”
We break apart to find a crew member standing a few feet away, looking distinctly uncomfortable with having to interrupt this moment. For a moment I start, thinking that I am looking at another human. But then I notice his wings behind him, large feathered appendages folded against his back and trailing down to graze the floor. An angel. All he’s missing is the freaking halo.
Maybe I’ve died and gone to heaven. Hearing Khatak admit his love for me… maybe I have.
The angel’s expression is apologetic.
“I’m very sorry,” he says, “but we can’t delay takeoff. We have a departure window to maintain.” His gaze shifts to me. “Ma’am, I don’t have you registered on the passenger manifest.”
Right. Because I just jumped onto a departing shuttle without a ticket, without luggage, without any plan whatsoever.
I’m an idiot.
“Oh, right. I’ll…” Panic starts to rise in my chest. After everything—after chasing him down, after finally getting him back—I’m going to have to leave anyway.
