Page 79 of Alien Warrior Chef… With Benefits
The chandelier sparkle dims beneath the weight of that moment. The crowd roars. Confetti swirls. I step offstage—camera lights chasing me—straight to Rekkgar’s arms. He sweeps me up in a hug that sets my heart pounding again—this time with pure exhilaration, not fear.
I laugh, a full-hearted sound: “We did it.”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “You claimed it.”
I laugh again, tears brimming. “We claimed it.”
We hold each other tight—the story shared, the future ours.
Above the cheers, I hear a faint click of a holo-camera. I turn, hand in his, and wave. Not to sponsors or empire or broadcasters. Tohim. Flame in my chest. Warrior by my side.
Together, we are more than titles, more than fame, more than the story anyone scripted. We are us—and nothing else matters.
I standon the observation deck, the station finally silent after the storm. The curved crystal windows stretch overhead, refracting distant stars like scattered sugar crystals—a galaxy dusted in light. The air hums faintly with recycled oxygen and stardust thrill. The echo of distant engines is gone; peace pulses through the concourse instead.
Rekkgar joins me quietly, and I feel the familiar weight of his presence against my back before his hand warms mine. I turn to him, eyes bright with a mix of exhilaration and hope I’ve neverpermitted before. I clutch both his hands, feeling the firm heat of his scales beneath my palms.
“I don’t want to go back to the life I had before,” I confess, voice soft but resolute. “Not without you in it.”
My words hang in the air like fragrant sugar, tender and bold. The misted lights catch the tear I didn’t know I’d be shedding. The station—freed from Aelphus’s grip—feels brand new; every corner holds promise, every echo whispers possibility. But I can’t walk back into my old self. I won’t. Not without him.
Rekkgar’s breath slows beside me, and he lifts his hand to cup my cheek. His touch is tender—warm and steady—in a way that renders my knees weak. “Then we start a new one,” he says simply.
Everything inside me floods—relief, joy, love—all shimmer with a crystalline clarity. I step forward. He pulls me into his arms, and I press my face into the hollow of his throat, breathing in the scent of his armor, sweat, and unshakeable promise. He leans in and kisses me slowly, deliberately, sealing our futures together. Stars swirl overhead; the galaxy tastes like sweetness and liberation.
He holdsme when I break away, his hand warm on my jaw, our foreheads pressed together. Stars twinkle beyond the glass, and the familiar scent of spice and station-clean metal wraps around us.
“I love you,” I whisper, voice cracked but fervent. “Thank you—for everything.”
He brushes my hair behind my ear. “I love you too, Ruby Adams,” he says, saying my full name with reverence. “Your world doesn’t just begin with Earth Bites. It begins withus.”
I laugh softly, heart aflame. “Then let’s build it together.”
I slip my hand down to his—intertwining my fingers with his thick, scaled hand. It’s perfect. Unbreakable.
Later, we walk through the station’s corridors, now alive with cautious celebration. Passengers and crew murmur about the return to normalcy; whispers of gratitude and sighs of relief form the station’s new soundtrack. We brush past holographic displays, now streaming stories of our victory—“Baker Who Fought Emperor” headlines blooming with excitement.
We pause by Earth Bites, where staff await behind a newly printed sign: “Earth Bites: Home of the Champion & Her Warrior.” Lyrie and Vonn meet us with wide smiles—and a war-weary sense of calm. Vonn simply hugs me and then Rekkgar, gruff but genuine. Lyrie wraps both of us in a glittering scale-patterned banner she printed herself. The effect is absurd; we laugh hard enough to shake off cobwebs of tension.
Lyrie claps Rekkgar on the shoulder. “You too, War God,” she teases. “Your fame just edged out mine.”
He gruffs back, but I see the warmth lit behind his cool façade as we stand together—a trio bound by revolution and pastry.
As evening falls,Novaria’s orbital silhouette floats in the sky beyond the deck windows. I lean against Rekkgar, butter-scents and spice swirling in the air, deep in the belly of home. “So,” I murmur, voice soft as whipped cream. “What’s next for us?”
He leans his forehead to mine. “Whatever we choose. Maybe—I don’t know—expand the bakery network?” He grins, shy, teasing. “Earth Bites in every major hub.”
I laugh, heart flaming. “Only if you help me test recipes in zero-g. ‘Vakutan-assisted soufflé’ has a nice ring to it.”
He smiles wide. “Deal.”
Then he dips his head and kisses me slow and sweet. “It’s your world, chef. And I’ll stand beside it.”
I close my eyes and taste cinnamon, sugar, courage, and his unwavering strength—all in that single kiss.
The stars shimmer above in witness. Our love, once forged in fire and fear, is now a constellation unto itself—bold, brilliant, and infinite.
I rest my hand against his chest, feeling the steadfast rhythm there.
