He presses a chaste kiss to my lips, as if he wasn’t just doing dirty things to my insides.
“You definitely smell good,” he remarks. “You smell of me.”
I roll my eyes, barking out a laugh. Aliens and their weird sense of smell. Still… I kind of like how he claims me. It’s the exact same for me. My chest growing warm whenever I claim him. The smile he sends my way just reinforces that we are meant to be together.
“I, one hundred percent, definitely smell of sweat now,” I remark, pushing him off me.
He falls into the covers beside me, laughing.
“It’s not funny. We have to get ready!”
Khatak hums an agreement. “We should nearly be there, actually.”
I scramble out of bed, deftly avoiding Khatak’s reaching hands. With a laugh I grab the first thing within reach—Khatak’s shirt from last night—and pull it on as I pad across the small cabin to the porthole window. My face is a disaster, having never washed off yesterday’s makeup, but I don’t care.
Because there it is.
The Alien Hotel grows larger in the viewport, its sprawling structure backlit by the soft glow of the nearby star. And unless my eyes are playing tricks on me, those are definitely Christmas decorations wrapped around the entire main tower. Twinkling lights, what looks like giant ornaments hanging from the entrances, and—is that a massive wreath?
“Excited?” Khatak’s voice rumbles from behind me, and I glance back to see him pulling on his pants. His horns catch thelight as he moves, and I have to resist the urge to drag him back to bed.
We’re docking in twenty minutes. I can behave for twenty minutes.
Probably.
“I can’t wait to tell Elana about the floating gardens of Vornath,” I say, turning back to the window. “Floating! I tell you. They were floating.”
“I was there too, you know.” His tone is bone-dry, but I can hear the smile in it.
“Yes, but did you properly appreciate them?” I shoot back. “Because I took approximately three hours of recordings, and you spent most of that time in a diplomatic meeting with very serious Drakoon councilmembers discussing very serious trade agreements.”
“Someone had to handle the boring parts.”
“And someone had to take videos of the magical floating islands. They were literally covered in millions of flowers.” I turn to face him fully. “I’m just saying, I contributed to the mission in my own way.”
He crosses the cabin in three strides, and then his arms are around me, his tail wrapping around my leg in that way that still makes my breath catch. His skin is warm against mine, and he smells like that distinctive spice I’ve come to associate with safety and home and him.
“Should I be worried?” he murmurs against my hair. “You used to need a detailed itinerary just to leave your room. Now I can’t keep up with all the places you want to go.”
I lean back against his chest, letting his warmth seep into me. “Are you complaining?”
“Never.” His arms tighten. “I’m just remembering the female who was terrified to look out a porthole window. Who needed to control every detail just to feel safe. And now you’re runningaround by yourself and planning our next three destinations before we’ve even landed.”
The observation hits differently than I expect. Because he’s right.
A few months ago, I couldn’t even leave the hotel without my chest tightening. I organized events because it gave me structure, control, a way to know exactly what was happening at every moment. The thought of traveling through space, of visiting alien worlds, of not knowing what each day would bring?
Terrifying.
And now? Now I have a mental list of at least seven places I want to visit next. Now I get excited when Khatak mentions a new diplomatic assignment. Now I drag him to markets and gardens and festivals, filling our tiny shuttle with souvenirs and memories and proof that I’m actually living again.
“You did this,” I say quietly.
“No.” His voice is firm. “You did this. I just gave you a reason to try.”
I twist in his arms to kiss him, but he’s already pulling away with an apologetic grimace.
“I need to supervise the landing sequence,” he says. “We’re approaching the docking zone. And you need to shower.”
