Page 30 of The First Child
“Stimulating. Challenging. Worth pursuing despite potential difficulties.”
I pull back to study his face, noting the way desire and humor combine in his expression. “Commander Ominox, are you suggesting that complications might be fun?”
“I’m suggesting that some complications are worth embracing rather than avoiding.”
“Such as?”
“Such as falling in love with your co-parent. Such as discovering that the woman you’re supposed to be sharing custody with makes you forget every principle of emotional discipline you’ve spent decades learning to maintain.” His eyes meet mine, silver-gold and intense and full of promise. “Such as finding out that the partnership you thought was temporary might actually be the foundation for something permanent.”
“Something permanent like what?”
“Like marriage. Like commitment that transcends cultural differences and species boundaries. Like building a family that chooses each other every day regardless of what the rest of the universe thinks about our unconventional approach to relationship development.”
The words hit me with force that has nothing to do with empathic connection and everything to do with recognition. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? Not just attraction or convenience or compatible partnership, but the foundation for something lasting. Something that could transform ourimprovised family into something permanent and real and beautiful.
“Are you proposing to me?”
“I’m acknowledging what we both already know. That what’s between us isn’t going anywhere. That Aniska needs both of us permanently, not just during some temporary custody arrangement. That you’ve become necessary to my sense of equilibrium in ways I didn’t know were possible.”
“That’s not exactly a romantic proposal.”
“Would you prefer something more traditional?”
I consider this while studying his face, noting the way hope and vulnerability combine in his expression. The trust he offers by allowing me to see past his spiritual composure to the man beneath. The quiet certainty that suggests he’s thought about permanent commitment as much as I have.
“I’d prefer honesty. About what you want, what you need, what you think we could build together.”
“I want you. In every way possible, for as long as you’ll have me. I need the partnership we’ve created, the way we complement each other, the sense that I’m not facing the universe alone anymore.” His hands frame my face, thumbs tracing my cheekbones with reverent care. “I think we could build something unprecedented. A family that transcends every boundary society creates, a love that proves compatibility matters more than cultural origin, a future that belongs entirely to us.”
“And all I have to do is say yes?”
“All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
The answer comes without hesitation, carrying certainty that surprises me with its completeness. “I want you. I want this. I want to give Aniska the kind of permanent family Margot dreamed of for her, even if it looks nothing like what anyone expected.”
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a yes to everything. To love, to partnership, to building something that’s ours regardless of what anyone else thinks about it.” I lean down to kiss him with all the emotion I’ve held back, feeling his response through our empathic connection like sunlight after endless winter. “That’s a yes to forever.”
Aniska chooses that moment to clap her hands with the kind of delighted approval that fills the room with empathic joy. Her emotional field sparkles with contentment so pure, it makes both of us laugh, as if she’s waited for this moment of recognition between the two people who love her most.
“She approves,” Sylas observes.
“She has excellent judgment.”
“She does indeed.”
We sit together in the warm glow of Christmas lights and bioluminescent panels, holding each other while our daughter radiates happiness that feels like a blessing. This is what Margot wanted for Aniska—not just safety or security, but the kind of belonging that comes from being part of something bigger than yourself.
A family that chooses each other every day. A love that creates magic out of ordinary moments. A future built on thefoundation of two people who recognize each other across every boundary that should keep them apart.
Christmas is still a week away, but I already have everything I could possibly want.
CHAPTER 10
SYLAS
The empathic stormhits without warning, shattering my morning meditation like glass against stone.
