Page 141 of The Alien in the Archive

I stand slowly, my body aching in a way it never did when I was more shadow than flesh. My muscles protest the movement, a dull soreness lingering in my bones. I press a hand to my chest, feeling the faint pulse beneath my skin—a steady rhythm I’ve only begun to get used to.

Life.

It’s strange how such a simple thing can feel so profound.

I step out into the hallway, where the air is cool and crisp compared to the stillness of the reading room. And there she is.

Page is leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, one foot tapping lazily as though she’s been waiting for me for hours. Ashlan is perched smugly on her shoulder, his silver fur sleek and glowing faintly under the lights. He chirps the moment he spots me, a bright, impatient sound, like he’s telling her,See? I told you he was coming.

Page turns her head at the noise, her expression softeningwhen she sees me. Relief, mischief, something even deeper flashes in her gaze.

“Took you long enough,” she teases.

“I was working,” I reply, deadpan.

“You were showing off,” she counters, pushing away from the wall.

I don’t argue, because she’s right. Seeing the awe in the scholars’ faces as I translated forgotten languages and unlocked texts that had been dormant for thousands of years…it stirred something in me. Not pride, exactly, but a quiet satisfaction. A sense of purpose, of usefulness, that I haven’t felt in millennia.

Page steps into my space, and the bond between us flares to life the moment I brush a hand down her arm. The warmth of it lingers, humming beneath my skin.

“How was your presentation?” I ask.

“Good, good…” she pauses. “Everyone is anxious for more information from the reading room, but I told them we’re working as fast as we can. Meanwhile, I’m scouring my sources for anything else about the Lost Expeditions.”

I look at her sidelong. “Is that what you call our private activities? Scouring your sources?”

She snorts, then goes quiet as we walk the halls of the Obscuary. Finally, Page looks back up at me.

“Do you think Davina will let you take a break long enough to plan the ceremony?” she asks, her voice quieter now, but still playful. She tilts her head, watching me like she already knows the answer.

“She’ll have to,” I murmur. “I’ll make her.”

Page arches a brow, the corner of her mouth curling into a grin. “You’llmakeher, huh? You do know who you’re dealing with, right?”

“I do.” I lean closer, my voice dropping low. “I’ll still win.”

She laughs softly, shaking her head. “I’ll hold you to that, Thorne Valtheris.”

The sound of my name on her lips hits me like a spark. It’s not a name that carries shame or weight when she says it.

It’s mine again, because of her.

I lean down, pressing my forehead gently to hers. Her eyes flutter closed, and I let my own drift shut, sinking into the moment. The world is quiet here—just her, just me, just the bond between us that hums with certainty.

“We’ll plan it soon,” I promise, my voice a low whisper. “For you. For me.”

“For us,” she corrects softly.

The word hangs in the air, sinking deep, settling somewhere inside me that still doesn’t quite believe any of this is real.For us.

I think back to the lonely shadows I used to haunt, the centuries of silence, the weight of mistakes I couldn’t bear to face. All of it led me here. To her. To this chance to build something new—something lasting.

I let out a slow breath, resting one hand lightly at the curve of her waist. “For us,” I echo. And this time, the word feels permanent. Like stone laid in the foundation of something unshakable.

Ashlan chirps again, breaking the stillness, and Page pulls back just enough to glance at him. “Oh, relax,” she mutters at the lumivix, her smile still soft as she turns back to me. “He thinks you’re taking too long to kiss me.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head as I press my lips to hers. It’s a slow kiss, soft but steady, like we’re promising each other something that doesn’t need words. And maybe we are.

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