“What amuses you?” he asked, head tilted in that feline way that made my heart squeeze.
“This,” I gestured between us. “You. Here. In my apartment. With my sad plants and takeout menus and...everything. It’s just so...”
“Unexpected,” he supplied.
“I was going to say surreal.” I sighed, my laughter fading to a smile. “A week ago, I was recording episodes about Bigfoot sightings in national parks. Now I’m what? Dating an alien? Fate-mated to a Rodinian warrior? What do I even call this?”
His expression softened. “Mine,” he said simply. “As I am yours.”
The word sent warmth spreading through me, settling low in my belly. Mine. It should have felt possessive, primitive. Instead, it felt like coming home in a way my actual apartment couldn’t match.
He moved to the window, looking out at the city skyline as the sun began to set. His silhouette against the amber light was striking—broad shoulders, the subtle movement of his tail, the proud line of his spine. I could see the tension in his posture, the reluctance that mirrored my own feelings.
“When do you have to leave?” I asked, the question barely above a whisper.
“Dawn,” he replied, not turning. “The extraction team will establish a temporary gate point three blocks from here.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see it. Six hours. Not nearly enough time.
He turned then, his eyes finding mine across the room. “I will return,” he said with that quiet certainty that brooked no argument. “As soon as my report is filed and new security protocols are established for the GL-7 outpost.”
“How long?” My voice sounded small even to my own ears.
“Thirty days. Perhaps less.”
A month. After everything we’d been through, after the bond we’d formed, a month felt like eternity. But it was also nothing—a blip in what could be a lifetime together.
“I will return,” he repeated, crossing the room to stand before me. One clawed hand gently tilted my chin up. “Legion command has provided you with communication equipment. We will not be completely separated.”
I managed a smile. “Video calls with my alien boyfriend. My podcast listeners would lose their minds.”
“Your listeners will know nothing of me,” he growled, but there was no real heat in it. “For now.”
“For now,” I agreed, rising on tiptoe and pressing my lips to his. “But someday, this is going to make one hell of a story.”
His arms came around me, pulling me against the solid wall of his chest. The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my knees weaken. I clutched at his shoulders,steadying myself as desire pooled hot and insistent between my thighs.
“I want to see you,” he murmured against my lips. “Here. In your space. In your bed.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and took his hand. I led him to my bedroom—the unmade bed, the clothes I’d left draped over a chair, the string lights I’d hung around the window that cast everything in a soft, golden glow when I switched them on.
“It’s not much,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. “Not like the jungle.”
“It is yours,” he replied, as if that made it perfect. “It smells of you.”
His hands found my waist, drawing me closer again. This time when he kissed me, it was with deliberate slowness—a savoring, as if he were memorizing the taste of me. I melted into him, letting my hands explore the ridges of muscle beneath his tactical gear.
“I will return,” he said against my throat, the words becoming a mantra, a promise. “I will return to you.”
“I know,” I whispered, working at the fastenings of his armor. “I believe you.”
We undressed each other with reverent care, so different from our urgent couplings in the jungle. There, we had been driven by discovery, by primal need. Here, we were guided by something deeper—the knowledge of imminent separation, the desire to create a memory that would sustain us through the coming weeks apart.
When we were both naked, he laid me on my bed with infinite gentleness. His golden eyes traveled over my body as if committing every curve, every freckle to memory.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, lowering himself beside me. “My kassari.”
His hands explored me with exquisite patience—tracing the line of my collarbone, cupping the weight of my breast, following the curve of my hip. Each touch kindled heat beneath my skin, each caress a wordless promise. I reached for him in turn, marveling at the contrast between us—his tawny, spotted skin against my bronzed tone, his powerful frame dwarfing mine.
