Chapter 21 #2
“And then I was taken. Ripped away from everything I knew, thrown into a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
But in the middle of that nightmare, I found you.
” Her voice cracked slightly. “A terrifying, beautiful, honorable alien who held my crying baby and made him feel safe. Who brought me clothes and fresh air and books because I sarcastically asked for them. Who looked at me like I was something precious even when I was exhausted and scared and covered in spit-up.”
Becsul’s throat was tight. He couldn’t speak.
“You want to know what I was thinking when Trevan told us about the memory wipe?” She leaned closer, her forehead nearly touching his.
“I was thinking about what it would mean for Robbie. Whether forgetting would be easier for him. Whether growing up on Earth, never knowing any of this happened, would be better than growing up in a galaxy he doesn’t belong to. ”
His hearts clenched. “And?”
She glanced down at Robbie, still sleeping peacefully against Becsul’s chest. The infant had shifted in his sleep, one small hand now resting against Becsul’s sternum, directly over his primary heart.
As if he knows, Becsul thought. As if he’s claiming me.
“Look at him,” Melissa whispered. “Look at how safe he is with you. How completely he trusts you.”
“Children are adaptable. He could learn to trust someone else—”
“He loves you.” Her voice was fierce now, protective.
“I don’t care what anyone says about infant cognition or bonding patterns or whatever scientific terminology applies.
My son loves you. And I—” She stopped, took a breath, continued.
“I love you. I’m in love with you. Not because I’m traumatized or confused or suffering from some kind of alien Stockholm syndrome.
Because you’re the man—the person—I’ve been waiting for my entire life without knowing it. ”
Becsul closed his eyes against the surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. Hope and terror and joy and grief, all tangled together until he couldn’t separate them.
“You don’t have to decide now,” he managed. “We have time—”
“I’ve already decided.” Her hand slid from his face to rest over his hearts, right next to Robbie’s tiny fingers. “I’m not going back. I’m not forgetting. And I’m sure as hell not letting some Patrol bureaucrat erase the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“But Earth—your home—”
“Earth was where I lived. You’re my home now.” She said it simply, with absolute certainty. “You and Robbie. That’s where I belong.”
Becsul opened his eyes and found her watching him, her expression soft and certain and utterly determined. She meant it. Every word. He could see it in her face, feel it through the bond that had been growing between them from the first moment they met.
She chose me. She’s choosing me.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said hoarsely.
“Probably not.” Her smile was gentle, teasing. “But you’re stuck with me anyway.”
“I’m stuck with you.” He repeated the words like a vow, like a prayer. “For the rest of my life.”
“For the rest of our lives.” She leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet and full of promise.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“So no more noble sacrifice talk. No more wondering if I’d be happier without you.
You’re mine, Becsul nak’Larentar. And I’m yours. That’s the end of it.”
“That’s the end of it,” he agreed.
Robbie stirred between them, making a soft sound of contentment. His tiny hand flexed against Becsul’s chest, and his eyes fluttered open for a moment—dark and curious and utterly trusting—before sliding closed again.
Father, Becsul thought, the word settling into his hearts with profound certainty. I’m his father.
Not by blood. But by choice. By love. By the bond that was now as much a part of him as his own skin.
“He’s going to need a diaper change soon,” Melissa murmured, her head dropping to his shoulder. “The glamour of parenthood.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I want to do all of it. Every diaper change. Every midnight feeding. Every tantrum and scraped knee and difficult question I don’t know how to answer.”
“Even the teenage years?”
“Especially the teenage years.” His tail tightened around her waist. “I’ve survived wars, Melissa. I think I can survive adolescent rebellion.”
Her laugh was tired but genuine. “Famous last words.”
They sat together in the humming quiet of the cargo hold, their son sleeping between them, the stars streaming past the viewport.
Behind them, Sarah shifted in her sleep, murmuring something to Katie.
Wei-Lin’s eyes opened briefly, scanning the room before closing again—satisfied, apparently, that all was well.
Family, Becsul thought. This is what family feels like.
Not just Melissa and Robbie, though they were the center of everything. But Sarah and Katie and Wei-Lin too. Strangers who had become allies who had become something more. People who had suffered together, survived together, escaped together.
Found family, Melissa had called it.
He understood now what she meant.
“Becsul?” Her voice was drowsy, sleep pulling at her again.
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For being willing to let me go if that’s what I wanted.”
His throat tightened. “I would have. If it was truly what you needed.”
“I know.” She pressed closer to him, her body warm against his side. “That’s one of the reasons I love you.”
He held her as she drifted back to sleep, held Robbie as he dreamed whatever dreams infants dreamed, and watched the stars stream past like rivers of light.
Six hours to Waypoint Seven. Six hours until they faced whatever came next—the investigations, the questions, the uncertain future. But for now, in this moment, everything was exactly as it should be.
His mate was in his arms. His son was against his chest. And ahead of them lay not an ending, but a beginning.
Together, he thought, the word settling into his bones with the weight of a promise.
Always together.