Chapter 14 #2
"I love it too," I admitted quietly. The words felt important somehow, weighted with more meaning than just the act of flying. Carrying her through the sky, feeling her trust in every relaxed muscle, hearing the joy in her voice. It felt perfect.
We flew in comfortable silence for most of the journey, the rhythm of my wings steady and sure. The sun climbed higher, turning the sky from powder to brilliant blue. Ellie's weight against me felt familiar now, natural, as if she'd always belonged there.
The lake appeared suddenly through a gap in the mountains, a vast expanse stretching between ridges of dark stone and evergreen. Ice caught the sunlight and threw it back in blinding sheets of reflection.
"There," I said, angling downward.
As we descended, the fishing shacks came into view. They dotted the frozen surface like scattered stones, maybe twenty of them in total. Most were simple wooden structures, painted in faded red, green, and blue. A few were more elaborate, complete with stovepipes jutting from the rooftops.
I circled once, scanning for any sign of movement. Nothing. The ice below was pristine except for small animal tracks leading to and from various shacks, but no sign of human activity.
"It's stunning," Ellie murmured, her bright green eyes wide with delight.
I landed near the center of the lake, my feet touching down on ice so thick I felt its solidity. The impact sent a dull echo across the expanse. Ellie's boots hit the ice a moment later, and she stumbled slightly before finding her balance.
"Careful," I said, steadying her. "It's slicker than it looks."
She nodded, her breath visible in white puffs. The wind was sharper here, unimpeded by trees, cutting across the open ice with a low whistle.
I surveyed the scattered shacks, calculating angles, and wind patterns.
The ones in the center were too exposed, too likely to be visited by rodents or casual fishermen.
The cluster near the western shore caught my attention.
Four structures huddled together, but one sat slightly apart from the others, positioned where the treeline met the ice.
"That one," I said, pointing.
Ellie followed my gaze. "Why that one specifically?"
"The wind." I lifted my hand, feeling the current. "It's coming from the northeast, funneled by the mountains. That shack sits right in the path, any scent will carry outward across the ice and up into the trees. My crew will catch it."
We made our way across the ice, footsteps crunching in the thin layer of snow that had accumulated on the surface. The shack grew larger as we approached, weathered wood the color of driftwood, a single small window dark and empty, a door secured with a simple latch.
I tested the door. Unlocked. It swung inward with a creak, revealing the dim interior. A wooden bench ran along one wall, layered with blankets. Ice fishing gear hung from hooks—an auger, a net, a tackle box covered in dust. The smell of old wood and fish permeated the small space.
"Perfect," I said, pulling the folded message from my pocket. The blood along its edges had dried to a dark brown, but it would be enough. More than enough.
I placed it in the corner of the shack, weighted down with a rusty can I found. The message sat there, unremarkable to anyone who might stumble across it, but unmistakable to anyone with the senses to detect what truly mattered.
"They'll find it," Ellie said, not quite a question.
"They'll find it." I took one last look at the placement and nodded to myself. The wind whipped through the cracks in the shack in icy tendrils. The scent would travel exactly as I needed it to.
"How long will it take your people to get here once they pick up Cullen's message?" Ellie asked.
I tilted my head, considering. "Not long. Twenty-four hours, perhaps."
She frowned, doing the math in her head. "But... it takes about three days just to fly from Earth to the moon. Your ship is somewhere around Saturn, isn't it? That's..."
"Much farther, yes," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice. "But our shuttles aren't built like your spacecraft, Ellie. They're designed for deep space travel. For speed. Your vessels are still bound by limitations we resolved centuries ago."
"Twenty-four hours," she repeated, the reality settling over her.
"Once they arrive, we'll have the resources we need," I continued, my tone shifting to something more strategic.
"My crewmates are trained for situations like this.
We'll formulate a plan, surveillance, extraction, whatever it takes.
With their help, we can capture Declan without drawing attention. Quietly. Efficiently."
Ellie nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "And then?"
"Then we restore you to the presidency. It shouldn't take more than a few days once everything is in motion." I studied her face, expecting relief, maybe even excitement. "You'll have your life back, Ellie. Your position. Everything he took from you."
But instead of the reaction I anticipated, something flickered across her features, something that looked almost like... sadness. An emotion that echoed in my own chest, sharp and unexpected.
The words had left my mouth so easily, so confidently. A few days. But as I said them, something twisted inside me, a sensation I hadn't felt in longer than I could remember.
This was ending.
All of it. Flying with her in my arms. The conversations that stretched late into the night. Her laughter. Her touch. The way she curled against me in sleep, trusting and warm. Her moans of pleasure echoing in my ears as I brought her to climax again and again.
In a few days, she would be President Eleanor Barrington Bradford again.
Protected by the Secret Service. Surrounded by advisors and politicians and the weight of an entire nation.
And I would be... what? The alien who'd helped her?
A footnote in a classified file? A sweet memory that came to her late at night when she was alone in her bed?
The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing my breath. I didn't want to lose her.
She had become everything.
"A few days," she repeated quietly, her gaze dropping to her hands.
"Your life will go back to normal." The words nearly choked me, tasting bitter on my tongue.
Bright green eyes lifted to mine and held. "What if I don't want it to?"
My heart stuttered in my chest. Hope flared, dangerous and bright, before I forced it down, afraid to believe what I thought I heard in her voice.
"You don't want to be President?" I asked carefully, searching her face for answers.
"No." She shook her head, a small smile touching her lips even as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That's not what I meant."
I waited, barely breathing, my entire world narrowing to this moment, to her.
"I don't want this to end." Her hand lifted, laying softly on my chest, over the heart that hammered just for her. "I don't want to lose you."
The words hit me like a shockwave, reverberating through every cell in my body. For a moment, I could only stare at her, certain I'd misunderstood. But the vulnerability in her expression, the way her fingers trembled slightly against my chest, the raw honesty in those beautiful green eyes.
"Ellie...." Her name came out rough, broken, barely more than a whisper.
"I know it's complicated," she continued, her voice gaining strength even as emotion threatened to overwhelm it.
"I know I'll be going back to the White House, back to the presidency and all the scrutiny that comes with it.
But Rickon, these past days with you, they've been the most real thing I've experienced in years.
Maybe ever. And the thought of going back to that life without you.
..." She swallowed hard, her throat working. "I don't want to."
I covered her hand with mine, pressing it more firmly against my chest where my heart raced. "I don't want it to end either," I said, the words tumbling out before I could second-guess them.
My mind spun, searching desperately for solutions, for any way to make this work. Then it struck me, clear and simple.
"Perhaps I could return with you," I said slowly, the idea taking shape even as I spoke.
"Use the cuddwisg and remain in the guise of a Secret Service agent.
I could stay at your side, protect you as I've been doing, but…
." I met her eyes, letting her see everything I felt.
"Not as an assignment. As someone who chooses to be there. "
Her breath caught, her lips parting in surprise. "You would do that? Leave your ship? Stay with me?"
"I would give up everything to be with you," I said, the words coming from somewhere deep within me, from a place I hadn't known existed until I met her. I turned her hand over in mine, threading our fingers together. "I am yours until you send me away."
Her eyes widened, filling with tears that caught the light streaming through the shack's small window. "You would do that?"
"Yes." The certainty of it resonated through every fiber of my being, absolute and unshakeable.
"When my mate and daughter died, I thought I would never feel like this for someone again.
I believed myself content with their memory.
But from the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine.
I tried to deny it, tried to maintain professional distance, but.
..." I shook my head. "I cannot fight what you are to me. I will not."