Page 46 of Alien Hunter's Prize

The Aerie Kin's attitude towards me continued to evolve. Nirako visited daily, bringing not just reports but small offerings—a perfectly polished river stone, a handful of sweet mountain berries, the sharp-edged talon of some predator he'd hunted.

He spoke to me directly now, asking questions about my senses, about the ruins, treating me as a fellow warrior who had faced and overcome great danger. His respect, hard-won, felt significant.

Pravoka remained more reserved, but the hostility was gone, replaced by a quiet observation that felt less like suspicion and more like assessment.

She even offered a rare, gruff compliment after witnessing me use my senses to pinpoint a subtle structural instability in the healing chamber ceiling before a small rockfall occurred. "The Sound-Seer has sharp eyes... or ears," she'd grunted, before efficiently securing the area.

The children remained my most enthusiastic allies, visiting whenever they could sneak away from their duties, plying me with questions about Earth, about humans, about my "different" markings.

Tanika, Mateha's daughter, became a regular visitor, sharing stories of Shardwing hatchlings and teaching me Aerie children's games played with smooth stones and intricate string patterns.

One afternoon, Elder Vairangi arrived, accompanied by Nirako and Mateha. Iros was strong enough to sit upright now, though still confined to the healing platform. Vairangi addressed us both formally.

"The council has reached full accord," she announced, her ancient eyes holding a new light. "The Aerie Kin formally propose an alliance with the Eastern Settlement. Nirako will return with you as our envoy, empowered to begin discussions."

She paused, her gaze moving between Iros and me. "Your actions, your combined strengths, have shown us the necessityand the possibility of unity. Isolation is no longer wisdom; it is vulnerability."

The official declaration felt momentous. We had not only saved the Aerie but had potentially bridged a divide that had lasted for generations.

"The Eastern Council will welcome this," Iros stated formally, his tail marking a slow, deliberate sweep behind him. "Shared knowledge, shared defense—it benefits us all."

"Indeed," Vairangi agreed. She then presented Iros with the beautifully crafted obsidian knife Nirako had brought earlier. "A gift from the hunters, acknowledging your strength and sacrifice."

Then, she turned to me, holding out the ancient, leather-bound book of songs she had shown us before. "And for you, Sound-Seer. Our most precious knowledge. May it help you understand the mountain's voice, and perhaps teach others."

I accepted the book with trembling hands, speechless. The weight of the artifact, the history contained within its fragile pages, the trust represented by this gift—it was overwhelming.

"Thank you, Elder," I managed finally. "I will treasure this. And share it."

With the alliance formalized and Iros deemed fit for travel—though still needing time for full recovery—preparations for our departure began in earnest.

Mateha gave me final instructions on using the crystals and breathing techniques to manage my senses during the journey. Nirako ensured our packs were equipped with the best Aerie supplies.

Our last evening felt bittersweet. A quiet farewell meal was shared with Vairangi, Mateha, Nirako, Pravoka, and a few other elders in Vairangi's dwelling. Stories were exchanged, plans discussed. The atmosphere was one of mutual respect and shared hope.

Later, back in our own quarters—the same comfortable dwelling we'd been moved to after the spring mission, the single sleeping pallet now feeling entirely natural—the reality of leaving settled in.

"Ready to go back?" I asked Iros as we packed our few belongings.

He secured the gifted knife to his belt, his movements fluid and strong again, though I sensed the lingering fatigue beneath the surface. "It is time," he said. "Our work here is done. The larger challenges await."

He paused, turning to face me. "And you? Are you ready to face the Eastern Settlement, the questions, the scrutiny... as my bonded?"

The term, spoken so simply, sent a jolt through me. Bonded. It implied so much more than partner, more than lover. It implied a permanent, recognized connection, something public and defining.

"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze without hesitation. The fear of judgment, of not belonging, had faded, replaced by the certainty of our connection. "I'm ready to face anything, as long as I face it with you."

Not just bonded.Chosen.I was done fearing what I meant to him. He’d walked through death with me. I was ready to walk into life beside him.

He stepped closer, framing my face with his hands, his thumbs brushing against my markings. "Good," he murmured, his voice husky. "Because I have no intention of facing it without you."

He kissed me then, a slow, deep kiss filled with promises, with the quiet strength of established intimacy, the tenderness that had become his signature. Our connection flared between us, warm and bright, a comfortable fire rather than the raging inferno of our earlier encounters.

It felt like coming home.

His thumb traced the edge of my jaw like it was sacred terrain. Not rushed. Not wild. Just the gentle, devastating certainty that webelonged.

We held each other for a long moment, drawing strength and reassurance from the contact. The physical connection was potent, grounding, a reminder of the solace and pleasure we found in each other, but the emotional and psychic connection felt even more profound, an unbreakable link.

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