Chapter 29
LUNA
The house hums with stillness. Not the sterile silence of Arkosh’s office pods, or the brittle hush of hiding in safehouses.
This is a living quiet—wind curling through shutters, Solie’s little snores drifting from her cot, the faint creak of wood settling around us.
It’s the kind of quiet that seeps into your bones, telling you you’ve finally survived long enough to deserve peace.
I cradle Solie against me, her warm breath puffing against my throat, smelling of the sweetroot candy Kraj slipped her after dinner.
“Just one more,” she pleaded, batting those golden eyes at him until he melted.
I hadn’t missed the way he’d caved, pretending to grumble as he handed her the sticky treat, muttering, “You’ll rot your fangs out.
” She giggled and corrected him: “Teeth, Dad. I don’t have fangs.
” The word—Dad—still rings in my chest like a bell I never thought I’d hear.
Now she’s heavy with sleep, her lashes brushing her cheeks as I hold the battered storybook open. My voice is soft, carrying us both away.
“…and the star-hopper crossed the void, chasing the trail of the sky-beast’s fire, never giving up until he found it curled in the dark, lonely and afraid.
And he said—” I pause, tilting the page so the moonlight catches the sketchy drawing.
“—he said, ‘You’re not a monster. You’re mine.
And I’ll never let you be alone again.’”
Solie stirs, murmuring, “Like you and Daddy.”
My throat locks. I press a kiss into her tangled hair, breathing in sweat, soap, and the faint earthy tang of lavender fields where she’d run herself ragged this afternoon. “Exactly like that, little star.”
“Good,” she sighs. “Then the sky-beast can stay home forever.”
Her words blur into a yawn, her claws just barely peeking from her fingertips before fading again. She’s learning control faster than I ever dared hope. My heart aches with love so fierce it borders on pain.
I keep reading until her words dissolve into the soft rhythm of her snores. Carefully, I shift her into her cot, brushing hair from her forehead. She sighs and curls tighter, clutching the stuffed sky-beast Kraj carved for her out of spare wood.
The red moons pour light across the floorboards when I step back. Outside, I hear the steady thunk of hammer against nail. Of course. Kraj never stops.
I push the door open, and the night air hits me—warm, scented with lavender and dust. Our little home squats at the edge of the fields, the clinic frame rising beside it, rough-hewn and stubborn, just like the man bent over it.
Kraj swings the hammer, muscles rippling, sweat shining down his back.
His scales catch the moons’ glow, a glimmer of gold flashing with each movement.
“Do you ever stop?” I call, folding my arms.
He doesn’t turn right away, but I hear the smile in his voice. “Sleep is for the weak.”
“You’re going to wake the entire ridge.”
Now he turns, hammer resting against his shoulder, grin crooked. “Then they’ll thank me when their babies are born in a real clinic instead of a back room.”
I walk across the dirt, letting my hand skim the cool wood of the new frame. “I came to remind you it’s midnight and even heroes need rest.”
“Heroes don’t sleep, Luna.”
“You’re not a hero.” I step closer, rising on my toes to kiss the corner of his jaw. His skin tastes of salt and smoke. “You’re mine. That’s better.”
The laugh that rumbles out of him is low and warm. He sets the hammer aside, wipes sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and cups my face with both palms. His claws are carefully curled inward, but his touch is still feather-light.
“You’ve got no idea,” he murmurs, “how much I needed to hear that.”
I lean into his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek. For a long moment, we just breathe. The wind carries the smell of lavender and wood sap, and I let myself sink into it.
Later, when the moons dip lower, we crawl beneath the canopy Vale strung above our bed. Sheer cloth ripples overhead, glowing faintly in the starlight. Solie’s little cot sits beside us, her leg kicked out from the blanket, toes twitching as she dreams.
I trace the scars along Kraj’s chest, every line a history I used to fear but now know by heart. My voice is barely above a whisper. “Do you ever miss it?”
He shifts, golden eyes catching the light. “Miss what?”
“The adrenaline. The chaos. The old life.”
For a long time, only silence answers me. His breathing is slow, controlled. I think maybe he’s not going to speak at all, and I don’t push. But finally, he turns his head, and the honesty in his gaze makes my chest ache.
“Only when I think about how long I spent running from this.” He kisses my shoulder, lingering. His breath is hot against my skin. “This is the only thing that was ever real.”
Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. “Kraj…”
He hushes me with another kiss, softer this time, reverent. “Forever, Luna. That’s what I want. No more shadows. No more lies. Just this.”
My throat tightens. I let out a shaky laugh, brushing at my tears. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like a romantic.”
His grin is wicked and tender all at once. “Don’t tell anyone. It’d ruin my reputation.”
I swat at his chest, and he catches my hand, presses my palm flat over his heart. His scales are warm beneath my touch, his pulse strong.
“Feel that?” he asks.
I nod, unable to speak.
“That’s yours. Has been since the first time you yelled at me for tracking mud into your office.”
I laugh, sharp and wet, remembering. “You smirked the whole time.”
“You looked beautiful when you were furious,” he admits. “Still do.”
I roll my eyes, but the heat in my cheeks betrays me. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re mine.” He leans down, kisses me slow, deep, until the stars outside blur.
His mouth trails heat down my throat, teeth grazing just enough to make my breath catch. “You smell like moonlight and lavender,” he whispers, dragging his tongue over the pulse hammering in my neck.
His claws skim my waist, slow and teasing. My body arches into him, aching for his touch. “Kraj…”
“You want more?” His voice is a low growl.
“Yes.” I tug at his waistband, fingertips tracing the ridges of muscle down his stomach.
He lifts me into his lap, cock already hard and hot against my core. I rock my hips, grinding my pussy over the thick length of him through our clothes. My panties are soaked. “I need you inside me.”
His golden eyes darken. “Say it again.”
“I need your cock,” I whisper, dragging his hand down my body. “Please.”
He growls and lays me back, fingers tearing at my clothes. His mouth covers my breast, tongue flicking the peak until I’m gasping. One claw traces my thigh, then slides between my legs, spreading me open.
“Fuck, Luna. You’re dripping.”
I moan, spreading wider as he dips a finger into my pussy. Then another. He curls them, watching my face as I cry out.
“Right there,” I gasp. “Kraj—”
He replaces his fingers with his cock, easing the tip against my entrance. “You ready for all of me?”
I nod, desperate.
He thrusts in, thick and filling, stretching me with every inch. “You’re so tight. So fucking perfect.”
My legs wrap around his waist, and we move together, each stroke a blend of love and lust and everything we can’t say aloud.
The bed creaks, our bodies slick with sweat and want. “I love you,” I gasp.
His eyes flare. “I’m yours. Forever.”
We come together, a tangle of moans and whispered names, until there’s nothing left but the stars outside and the beat of his heart beneath my cheek.
I believe in forever.