Page 109 of Alien Tower

The words hung in the air between them.

A baby.

A child.

His child.

Their child.

He had never allowed himself to think about children. His life had been too uncertain, too dangerous, too rootless. A child needed stability, security, a home—all things he’d never been able to provide. Even now, with the peace they’d built and the protection Ember and Rykan offered, the idea seemed almost too large to comprehend.

But she was looking at him with hope and love and that unfailing trust she gave so freely, and something deep inside him cracked open.

“You’re sure?” His voice came out rough. “This isn’t just another experiment?”

“It’s the most important experiment of my life.” She released his hands to cup his face, her thumb tracing the scar on his cheek. “I’ve spent months learning what my blood can do. Now I want to learn what love can create.” She paused, vulnerability flickering across her features. “Unless... you don’t want...”

“I want.” The words tore out of him before he could stop them. “Gods, Liora, I want—I’ve wanted—but I never?—”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t articulate the years of loneliness, the resignation to a life without this kind of connection, the way he’d buried the desire so deep he’d almost forgotten it existed.

But she understood. She always understood.

“Then let’s try.” She rose on her toes to brush her lips against his. “Let’s see what we can build together.”

He gathered her into his arms, holding her so tightly he worried for a moment he might hurt her. But she just held him back, her heartbeat steady against his chest, her warmth seeping into places he hadn’t known were cold.

“You never do anything by halves, do you?” he managed.

“Where’s the fun in halves?”

A laugh escaped him—surprised, overwhelmed, utterly helpless. “A baby. You want a baby.”

“I want your baby. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?”

“Mm. A significant difference. I’ve done extensive research.”

He pulled back to look at her face, searching for any trace of doubt. He found none. Just certainty, and love, and that boundless curiosity that drove her to experience everything the world had to offer.

Including this. Including motherhood. Including building a family with a scarred Vultor warrior who’d never expected to have one.

“It might not work,” he said, forcing himself to be practical.

“I know. But I want to try.” She stroked a hand through his hair. “Don’t you?”

The question hung between them, and he realized that all his careful control, all his restrained protectiveness, all his determination to let her make her own choices—none of it mattered in this moment. She’d asked for something he hadn’t dared dream of, and his answer was never in doubt.

“Yes.” The word came out like a prayer. “Yes, I want to try.”

Her smile blazed across her face.

And then she was kissing him, and he was kissing her back, and the cottage that had become their home suddenly felt like the beginning of something even larger.

Something that might become a family.

Pip made another disgusted sound from the windowsill and pointedly looked away.

Neither of them noticed.