Page 85 of The Alien in the Archive

“Do you?” he asks. “I know it’s common for humans, and I imagine you’ve thought about the possibility.”

I bite my lip, not wanting to pressure him, but I guess it’s too important not to say it.

“You know,” I say, “I lost my parents young. Riley and I basically raised each other, because we were just…wild animals at the convent. Those nuns had absolutely no control over us.” I laugh, but then I get wistful, nostalgic. “But he and I always said we would both have kids so I could be an aunt and he could be an uncle, because we wanted to make the families we never got to have. And I wanted a girl and a boy, and I thought they would be just like me and Riley.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Thorne murmurs.

I shrug one shoulder, trying to act casual. “I’ve never made solid plans, but it felt like a certainty. Then again…I didn’t think I would fall in love with a fossil.”

Thorne snorts. “You make it very difficult to have a serious conversation.”

“Says the guy addicted to bodice rippers.”

“Don’t deflect,” he says. He reaches out and touches my face, and I can tell he wants me to be serious, that he’s not backing away from this. “I would give you that, if it’s what you want. But if we…” He pauses, because I don’t think we’ve clearly articulated it yet.The future. “If we Elixir bond, our lifespans will be extended. Probably no more than two hundred years or so, given I’ve already run out the clock, but…you would have plenty of time to decide.”

I swallow hard, staring into his impossibly dark eyes. Two hundred years. That’s more life than I ever dared imagine, and the thought of spending it with him…it’s overwhelming, but in the best way.

“But it wouldn’t just be my decision,” I say. “It would be ours.”

Thorne nods, his expression thoughtful as he strokes my cheek. “I suppose I would have to decide whether I’d want to subject a child to this existence. To the weight of what I am…whatweare.” He pauses, his fingers trailing down to rest over my heart. “But I think…if that child were born out of love, out of you and me…I could want that.”

My chest tightens, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. The vulnerability in his voice, the honesty in his words—it’s enough to unravel me completely. I press my hand over his, feeling the steady beat of my heart beneath his palm.

“I don’t need an answer now,” I whisper. “I just needed to know if it was something you’d even consider.”

He exhales, a low, deep sound that vibrates through hischest. “It’s not something I’d ever considered before you,” he admits. “But you make me want things I thought were impossible.”

For a long moment, we just lie there, tangled in each other. The room is quiet save for the faint hum of the glow lamps and the soft snores of Ashlan on the couch.

“You know,” Thorne says after a while, his voice lighter now, teasing. “If we did have children, I’d insist on naming them something suitably dramatic. None of this ‘John’ or ‘Sarah’ nonsense.”

I laugh, swatting at his shoulder. “Oh, so you’re the expert on human names now? Let me guess—you’d want something like ‘Persephone’ or ‘Aurelius.’”

“Those are excellent suggestions,” he replies, his lips curving into a smirk. “Though I was leaning toward ‘Caius’ or perhaps ‘Lysandra.’”

“Lysandra?” I arch a brow. “What are we, Greek royalty?”

“Why not?” Thorne counters, rolling us so that he’s propped up on one elbow, looking down at me. “Our child would be exceptional, after all.”

“Modest as always,” I quip, but the warmth in my chest betrays me. The idea of a child—our child—is suddenly so vivid, so real, that it takes my breath away. “But for now, I’ll get on birth control. Because one thing I’ve always known is that I need a teaching job before I settle down.”

He chuckles. “Considering you discovered the greatest secrets of the Obscuary, I think you’re well on your way to a professorship here on M’mir.”

“You really think so?”

Thorne’s smirk softens, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Page, if anyone could convince an entire galaxy to rewrite its history, it’s you.”

32

THORNE

For weeks, the Obscuary has become more and more uncomfortable. At first, I tolerated it. I sought Page’s mind when I was bored, and that satisfied me.

But now that I've had her…the silence is impossibly, horribly loud.

Ashlan chirps softly from his perch on my desk, his antennae glowing faint orange. He senses my restlessness, the way my thoughts churn and pull me in circles. The cushions where Page and I lay tangled together remain rumpled, her scent lingering. I have to admit it—I’m and addict. She's irreplaceable, even the touch of her mind is no longer enough to satisfy me.

I try writing. I try reading. But I write inhernotebook, and I read the novels we've swapped over these past days, and she's everywhere.

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