Page 49 of The Monster's Daughter
That night, Kage and I go out. Just two people trying to remember how to be alive.
The zero-gravity garden is like stepping into a dream. Vines suspended in midair, blossoms drifting like stars, water bubbles floating between them. Kage looks ridiculous, his bulk trying to navigate the slow spin of weightlessness. He grabs a vine, snarling when it tears free.
I laugh so hard I almost choke. “Graceful.”
He snorts. “Your world is ridiculous. Plants should stay on the ground.”
“Tell that to the hydro-techs.”
We drift together, our bodies catching currents. A bubble of water floats between us. I poke it. It bursts, scattering droplets over his scales. He growls, swipes at me, misses.
For a while, we forget. Laugh. Breathe. He catches my waist when I drift too far, steadying me with one massive hand. And then he kisses me, right there in the middle of floating orchids and synthetic starlight.
It’s slow. Sweet. Terrifying.
When we break apart, I whisper, “This can’t be just about the past.”
He rumbles back, “It’s not.”
I want to believe him. Gods, I do.
But the glass in my throat cuts sharper.
Back home, I slip into Natalie’s room to tuck her in. She’s sprawled out sideways, blanket twisted, plastic sword clutched in her fist. My little warrior. My little lie.
Kage’s in the living room when I return, crouched near the shelf. My breath snags. He’s holding something.
The holo.
It flickers faint blue light across his face—me, heavy with pregnancy, awkward smile as I stood in front of the clinic scanner. I kept it. I don’t know why. Maybe because erasing proof felt like erasing him, too.
Kage stares at it too long. Too still.
My pulse jackhammers. I snatch it from his claws. “That’s private.” Too sharp. Too fast.
His frills flicker. He nods once, slow. “Understood.”
He doesn’t press. Doesn’t accuse. Just settles back on the couch, shoulders slumping like the whole world’s weight shifted again.
I stand there, holo clutched tight, heart racing. The silence between us feels louder than gunfire.
Then he rises.
One step. Two. Until his shadow swallows mine and I can’t breathe for the heat rolling off him.
“I should have known,” he murmurs.
I blink up at him, chest aching. “I was scared.”
He reaches for me—not to take the holo, but to cup my cheek. His scaled fingers are rough, claws sheathed. “You were alone.”
“I thought I lost you,” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer. His mouth crushes into mine with sudden hunger, a growl low in his throat. The holo drops from my hand and rolls under the couch. I don’t care.
He backs me against the wall, lips devouring, tongue pushing into my mouth like he needs to taste the truth from me. Igasp, hips arching forward. He growls again, deeper, the sound vibrating in my bones.
“You kept her from me,” he rasps, pressing his forehead to mine. “But I still want you. I want all of it. All of you.”
