Page 143 of Bride of the Enemy Alien

He looks stunned.

“Then I choose all of you.”

He kisses me again.

We find our way to the bed carefully because neither of us has enough uninjured body left for pride. He keeps most of his weight away from me. I keep one hand near his bound wing so I know when the angle changes. We learn how to move around wounds without letting them own the moment.

It should ruin the heat. It doesn’t.

Nothing happens because it has to. We keep choosing what comes next.

When we finally come together, it’s slow, a little clumsy, and so intimate I have to close my eyes for a moment just to hold all of it.

Rhazek stops immediately.

“Kessa?”

“I’m fine.”

“Look at me.”

I do.

His face is inches from mine. No command in the words. No force behind them. Only concern.

I draw him closer.

His forehead rests against mine for one shaking breath.

The bond doesn’t crash through us. It opens.

Warmth spreads through the bond. There is no cold bite from the receiver and no forced rhythm trying to turn us into evidence. Rhazek is simply there in the connection, close and unmistakable, and it grows with every kiss and every answer we choose to give.

I feel his joy first and that surprises me more than anything.

He isn’t feeling possessive or relieved. He feels joy.

Mine answers it.

The connection deepens. I can feel him without losing myself. I’m still Kessa. He’s still Rhazek.

Neither of us disappears into the other. I pull him closer because I want to.

We take our time. For once, neither of us has to run toward the next disaster.

When the moment finally takes us, I hold on to him and he holds on to me, careful even then, and the bond flares warm enough to paint faint light across his throat and chest.

No receiver.

No proof packet.

Nothing sending it to the sky.

Ours.

Afterward, we lie tangled together under a thin blanket while the City creaks around us.

Rhazek’s wing is arranged badly against the wall. My bruises have begun filing formal complaints. Somewhere outside the room, Merra is arguing with someone about boiled instruments.