Page 125 of The Alien in the Archive

“Iamrelaxing,” she says, flipping the book open. “You’re the one who’s restless.”

“I’m not restless.”

“Speak for yourself,” she snorts.

I’m glad I got her to calm down.

“I think we did that together,” she shoots back, responding to my thoughts.

I smile and lean back, closing my eyes once again. Page starts reading, cuddled into my chest. It feels normal…even if this is supposedly what she does when she’s sad.

“I’m actually enjoying this,” I murmur.

Page laughs softly. “Maybe we should do it again sometime.”

I lean closer, and I feel confident in saying it as I whisper in her ear, “We will.”

48

THORNE

In the morning, we don’t waste time delaying the inevitable.

Mythara Village is silent when we step outside. No sounds of the city reach us here, just the faint rustle of leaves in the early morning light and the steady rhythm of our footsteps. Page walks beside me, her hand laced tightly with mine, her grip firm and unyielding.

She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to. Her thoughts hum through the bond, a constant undercurrent of tension, hope, and dread.

Neither of us slept much.

Now, it’s time.

I look at her out of the corner of my eye, the way she keeps her chin high even though her shoulders are taut with nerves. She’s wearing her usual, practical clothes—a sweater and fitted trousers, a blazer over it all. Her hair is in slightly messy waves around her shoulder. She’d call it her “research look.” I call it the look of a woman ready to take on the galaxy.

She’s put me in a dark red shirt she borrowed from Riley, along with a pair of slacks…but she said it just made me look “more spooky”.

No time for a change in wardrobe. We have to do this today.

“Are you sure?” she asks softly. Out loud this time. It’s the third time she’s said it since we left. Her voice is steady, but her thoughts waver.

“Yes,” I reply. “We’ve already decided. Davina will be waiting.”

Her gaze flicks toward me, searching my face as though looking for some last-minute crack in my resolve. I offer her a faint smile, squeezing her hand. “Whatever happens…we’re ready.”

Her lips press into a thin line, but she doesn’t argue. Her grip tightens, and we walk on.

People start to notice us as soon as we reach the train station, exchanging frightened glances and whispers. The psychic chatter is nearly too much for me.

Is that what I think it is?

I thought they were all gone.

What is a human doing with a monster like that?

Should we call security?

Page’s hand tightens and tightens andtightensaround mine. Her anxiety ratchets up. I desperately try to stay calm.

“Page,” I murmur. “You need to control your thoughts. I don’t want you using your powers on accident.”

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