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“We’ll figure out a way and they will all go home, if that’s what you think is best.”

The tears dry up and despite whatever mechanism there is in the suit that allows me to breathe, I’m having trouble drawing in oxygen. “But that would mean—that would mean your people…Breccan you wouldn’t survive.”

At this he brings my gaze back to his. “I want you to understand that your well-being means as much to me as my own morts. We’re one now and your aliens are just as much a part of our faction as any other member. If going home is in their best interest, I will facilitate it.”

“You can’t do that.” I think back to my conversation with Avrell. “Breccan you’d die. You’d all die.” I press a hand to my stomach. What would happen to our child?

“I used to think so,” he admits. “But you taught me different.”

“Me?” I say incredulously.

“Who else? You taught me strength when I thought I had none left. You taught me to care again when I wanted nothing more than to let myself burn up with this planet. For that I owe you the world. I owe you whatever life you want for yourself, for those aliens in cryo.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him. “After the way I treated you, the things I did, why would you even want me to stay?”

“I’ll always want you, Aria. Always. I want you to be my mate, my wife as you say. I want you to take my name in truth and lead by my side—for both morts and aliens. But only if that’s what you want as well.”

I don’t have to think about it. My throat closes and I choke out, “Breccan. I want you. I want us.”

He rests his mask against mine, his eyes glued to mine. His forked tongue flicks out like he wants to lick away the salt of my tears if the masks weren’t in the way. “You are more important than my own life. Than anything. No solar is worth living without you in it. You are more addicting than any sun, and without you, my world is dark. Come on. We’ve been out here far too long.”

We walk back inside where he takes me through a rigorous cleansing in the decontamination bay. It’s a reminder of how toxic their world is out there and how safe it is inside. Once we’re clean and our zu-gear has long been removed, he pins me against a wall, his strong hips against mine. His fingers twist in my hair as he regards me with a pained expression.

“Please come back to me, my Aria,” he murmurs, “and light up my life again.”

15

Breccan

Back in the facility, her scent overwhelms me. Heady and seductive. She practically drips with something I am desperate to taste. Avrell explained to me that the female hormones and secretions were more potent once successful implantation has occurred. He told me that it’s supposed to increase each solar as she grows to accommodate our mortling. If she smells this good already, I can’t even begin to imagine how she’ll smell many solars from now.

“Breccan,” Aria murmurs, her nose turning pink. “I’m nervous.”

Now that she’s in my grip again, I’m afraid to let her go. I want to clutch on to her forever. And I will hold her until she pushes me away. I’ll always hold her. “Why, mortania?”

She smiles, not wide enough to show her useless teeth, but enough to let me know she’s missed my compliments. “What if I’m not a good mom to our baby? I made so many mistakes. I don’t want to make anymore.”

I furrow my brows as I pluck words out and try to place the meanings—words she’s used in the past. Mom means mother. Baby means mortling. “You will be the best mother. Look how fiercely protective you are over the awoken one.”

I’m worried about the awoken one because there are nine other morts who’d love to have their chance at claiming a mate. I am not sure how long I can keep them in line before their baser instincts take over. Mine certainly did with Aria, and once that happens, there’s no stopping it. Consequences mean nothing when the possibility of having a mate filling your lonely world is within reach.

Her shoulders, which were slouched forward, go back and she bravely lifts her chin, revealing to me her strength. The alien females don’t have sub-bones or ears that move. They don’t even growl. Their signs of strength are different. A raising of the chin. A flaming in their eyes. A flare of their nostrils. My alien is always displaying how brave and strong she is. This is exactly why she is best suited for the position I have created for her.

“We will have a ceremony. One where you will be officially named Madam Commander and Alien Liaison.”

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