Chapter 17 #2
I pulled him into a fierce hug, blinking back the tears that burned behind my eyes. "You're not dying, Cullen. You're just going to space." Even as I said it, my heart broke a little.
"To the stars," he murmured. Then, quieter, "Thank you. For everything."
When he pulled back, his eyes were bright but clear.
He gave us one final salute—crisp, perfect, unmistakably Cullen—and walked out of the room toward whatever waited for him among the stars.
The door clicked shut behind Cullen, and the silence that followed felt impossibly heavy. I stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway, my chest tight with an ache I couldn't name.
"Ellie." Rickon's voice came soft beside me.
The first tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. Then another. I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to hold it together, but my shoulders shook anyway.
Without a word, he scooped me up, one arm beneath my knees, the other around my back, and carried me to the sofa. He settled into the cushions with me curled in his lap, my face pressed against his chest.
"I'm being ridiculous," I mumbled against his shirt, my voice muffled.
"No, you’re not," he insisted, his fingers threading through my hair with infinite gentleness. "You just said goodbye to one of your closest friends."
"He's not dying. He's just...."
"Going somewhere you can't follow." Rickon's hand moved in slow, soothing circles on my back. "It's allowed to hurt."
I let myself cry then, really cry, the kind of ugly, gasping sobs I never allowed myself in public. The weight of everything that had happened over the few weeks crashed down on me all at once, no longer held at bay by adrenaline and the desperate need to survive.
Rickon knelt beside her, his hand finding hers, but he said nothing.
There was nothing to say. They had won, but the cost had been terrible.
The faces of the agent who had died for no more reason than being born human.
The people I thought I could trust who been swayed to darkness for nothing more than a dollar sign.
I cried for everything and Rickon held me through all of it, one hand cradling the back of my head, while the other arm wrapped securely around my waist. He didn't try to fix or minimize my upset.
He just held me, his presence solid and unwavering.
This was what I loved most about him. The tenderness.
The easy affection. All day long, we played our roles.
President Bradford and her lead Secret Service agent, maintaining perfect professional distance in every meeting, every hallway, every public appearance.
But here, in my private residence, the masks came off.
Here, I could be just Ellie, and he could be just Rickon.
I could sit in his lap and cry without worrying about appearing weak.
His lips brushed my temple. "Better?"
I nodded against his chest, my breathing finally evening out. "How do you always know exactly what I need?"
"Practice," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "Also, you're not as complicated as you think you are."
I swatted his shoulder weakly, earning a low chuckle. His arms tightened around me, and I sank deeper into his embrace, letting his warmth chase away the ache.
"I still can't believe you're really staying," I said, lifting my head to look at him. "Two more years on Earth. You could be out there, exploring new systems, charting unknown territories. Instead, you're stuck here with me, disguising yourself as human and pretending to be my bodyguard."
His thumb traced my jawline, those dark eyes holding mine with an intensity that still made my breath catch. "There's nowhere I'd rather be, Ellie. Nowhere in this galaxy or any other."
"Even when I'm in budget meetings that last for hours? Even when I have to give the same speech in ten different cities in three days?"
"Especially then." His lips curved into that crooked smile that had undone me from the start.
I laughed, the sound watery but genuine.
My fingers found the collar of his shirt, smoothing it absently.
"After all this is over. After I'm no longer president, we could travel.
Really travel. See more of Earth before we head for the stars.
I want to show you the Grand Canyon at sunset.
And the Northern Lights. And this little café in Paris where they make the best croissants you've ever tasted. "
"As long as you're by my side," he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher with emotion. "I don't care if we're in Paris or on some backwater moon. You're my home now, Ellie."
My heart twisted in the best possible way. "I love you," I whispered.
"I love you too." He kissed me then, soft and sure and perfect, his lips warm against mine.
I reached over and gently touched the cuddwisg device at his belt, my fingers trembling slightly.
His hand caught mine, steadying it, and together we deactivated the facade.
The subtle shimmer of the holographic disguise faded, revealing his true features, the copper iridescence of his skin, the wings.
The slight angles that marked him as something more than human.
The beauty that took my breath away every time I saw it.
"There you are," I breathed, tracing the line of his jaw.
His eyes darkened as he stood, lifting me effortlessly in his arms. "Bedroom?" he murmured against my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine.
"Bedroom," I confirmed, already working at the buttons of his shirt.
He carried me down the hall, and I lost myself in the taste of his mouth, the strength of his arms around me, the knowledge that this magnificent male had chosen me. Had chosen to stay.
When we reached the bed, he laid me down with a gentleness that made my heart ache.
His hands moved over me with practiced familiarity, knowing exactly where to touch, how to make me gasp and arch into him.
I pulled him down to me, needing to feel the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against mine.
"Ellie," he whispered my name like a prayer as he kissed a trail down my neck, his fingers working at the zipper of my dress.
I tugged his shirt free, running my hands over the planes of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his alien heart beneath my palm. Different from mine, faster, stronger, but still beating for me.
We undressed each other slowly, savoring every moment, every touch, every whispered word. When he finally moved over me, his body fitting perfectly against mine, I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight.
This was real. This was ours. And for these precious hours in the darkness, nothing else mattered but the two of us and the love we'd found against all odds.