Page 110 of Alien Warlord's Fury
I smiled against his chest. "The disciplined Aerie warrior suggesting we neglect duty? I'm shocked."
"The Aerie also teaches balance." His arms tightened around me. "Duty without connection becomes hollow purpose."
"Is that what you felt before? Hollow purpose?"
He was quiet for a moment, considering. "I felt... complete in my incompleteness. I did not know what was missing until I found it."
The simple honesty of his words touched something deep within me. "I was so angry after Hammond. So focused on revenge, on stopping him. I didn't think beyond that moment."
"And now?"
I raised myself on an elbow to look at him. His face in repose was beautiful—strong features softened by the aftermath of our connection, his gaze holding mine steadily.
"Now I'm thinking about tomorrow. And the day after. About the children we saved, about understanding the Nexus, about..." I hesitated.
"About?" he prompted.
"About us. What we're building. This dwelling, this life."
His hand cupped my face, thumb tracing my cheekbone. "The Aerie has a saying: 'The nest built in storm winds holds strongest.'"
"Poetic," I smiled. "Humans would say something like 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.'"
"Less elegant, but accurate." His eyes crinkled. "Though I prefer my people's version."
"Of course you do." I settled back against him, comfortable in our shared warmth. "Your people have a saying for everything, don't they?"
"Most things." His fingers resumed their gentle tracing of my spine. "Though none yet for what we are to each other. We are writing that story ourselves."
The thought was both daunting and exhilarating—that we were charting unknown territory, creating new traditions from the blend of our cultures. No predetermined path, just the bond between us and the choices we made together.
"I like that," I murmured, sleep beginning to tug at me. "Our own story."
His response came soft and sure, the last thing I heard before drifting off: "One worth telling."
Epilogue: Claire
I stood near the edge of the gathering, watching the Eastern Settlement's celebration unfold. Lanterns cast warm light over the crowd—humans with silver markings mingling freely with Nyxari of three clans. A year since Hammond's defeat. A year of rebuilding, healing, learning.
My hand drifted to the silver markings on my forearm. They no longer flared unpredictably but responded to my emotions with gentle pulses. Guardian patterns, the elders called them.
"Thinking deep thoughts?" Nirako's voice came from behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. His tail rested lightly against my legs.
I leaned back against him. "Just appreciating the view."
"As am I." His lips brushed my ear. "I wasn't referring to the celebration."
I turned in his arms. His platinum braids held purple mountain flowers. The scars on his face had softened. "The council sent me to find you," he said. "The ceremony begins soon."
I sighed. "Do I have to give a speech?"
"The lead Guardian of the Nexus should probably say something," he teased.
"Fine. But no Aerie proverbs from you."
He laughed. We walked together toward the center of the clearing. Tables formed a large circle—no head, no foot, all equal.
Meela spotted us and ran over, her golden lifelines bright. "Guardian Claire! See what I can do?" She held out her palm, forming a small, glowing sphere of energy.
