Marriage Contract with my Cursed Alien Mate

Chapter 120: Chapter 120

Tempest woke slowly, her hand reaching across the bed before her eyes were fully open.

Cold sheets met her fingertips.

Her heart gave one hard thump as her eyes flew open and she searched the room for Dron. He was there. Sitting at the edge of the bed with his back partially turned in her direction. He was already dressed, his dark clothing fitted closely to his body and his boots covered in a thin layer of dirt as if he’d already been outside. Tempest stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to notice that she was awake. Something about the way he was sitting made her chest ache. His shoulders were lowered, and his head hung slightly as he looked down at his hands. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew he was sad. She could feel it surrounding him like a heavy cloud.

"Where did you go?" Tempest’s voice came out rough from sleep.

Dron’s head lifted quickly. By the time he turned to face her, the sadness she had seen was gone. Or at least he tried to make it seem that way. His lips curved into a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"I had something to take care of."

Tempest pushed herself up and pulled the blanket over her chest. "This early?"

"Yes."

He didn’t elaborate, and Tempest didn’t ask again. She wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know. He was leaving today. There were probably a million things he needed to do, people he needed to see, and arrangements he needed to make. She hated the idea that his last day at home had to be spent worrying about anything besides the two of them, but there was no point in complaining. The decision had already been made.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked.

"Enough."

That was a lie.

She could see the exhaustion around his eyes. There was a darkness there that hadn’t been present the night before, and the lines around his mouth seemed deeper. Tempest wanted to reach out for him, but she was afraid the second she touched him everything she was trying to hold inside would spill out. Instead, she forced a smile onto her own face and slid from beneath the blankets.

"Well, I’m starving."

Dron watched her closely.

"What would you like?"

"Surprise me."

They both knew he had made her nearly every meal available on Thraqe since she’d arrived, but Tempest acted as if there were still plenty of surprises left. Anything to keep the conversation going. Anything to stop the silence from settling between them. If it got too quiet, they would have no choice but to discuss the fact that he was leaving.

Tempest followed him from the bedroom and into the cooking area. Dron moved around the room with his usual confidence, opening the cooling chest and pulling out several ingredients. For a few seconds, Tempest could almost convince herself this was just another morning. Dron would cook. She would sit at the table and complain that he gave her too much food. Squab would rush through the room and try to steal something off her plate when he thought no one was looking.

Except Squab wasn’t hopping around.

The small creature was curled in the corner, watching Dron with wide eyes as if even he understood something was wrong.

Tempest sat at the table and folded her hands together.

"I was thinking maybe later we could go back to the poor class," she said. "Not today, obviously. Maybe tomorrow. Gerax probably has more information about the soil by now. If we can figure out what will grow there, we can start getting supplies together."

Dron’s hands paused over the food.

"You shouldn’t go there without me."

Tempest swallowed.

"I wouldn’t be alone. Gerax could go with me. Mexyn too."

"Gerax isn’t a fighter."

"He did pretty well when the house collapsed."

"He was nearly killed."

"So were we."

Dron’s jaw tightened.

Tempest immediately regretted saying it. She hadn’t meant to bring the memories of the poor class into their last morning together. She hadn’t meant to remind him of everything that had happened, but it was impossible to talk about the future without acknowledging that he wouldn’t be there.

"I’m sorry," she muttered.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

Dron placed the food into the fabricator, and Tempest watched the muscles in his back move as he pressed several buttons. She wanted to walk over and wrap her arms around him. Wanted to press her face against his spine and beg him not to leave. Instead, she kept her hands clasped on the table.

When the food was finished, Dron divided it between two plates and carried them over. Tempest smiled at what he’d made. It was one of the first meals he had prepared for her after she arrived. She couldn’t remember the Thraqen name, but it reminded her of pancakes mixed with sweet bread. He had added cut fruit to the side because he knew she liked it.

"This looks good," she said brightly.

Dron sat across from her.

Neither of them ate.

Tempest picked up her utensil and cut the food into smaller pieces. She talked about everything she could think of. The repairs Gerax wanted to make to his lab. The way Mexyn kept pretending she didn’t like Squab even though Tempest had caught her feeding him twice. She even told Dron about a television show she used to watch as a child on Earth. He listened to all of it, nodding in the right places and asking questions when he was supposed to.

It almost worked.

Then Tempest looked toward the doorway.

A large bag sat in the corner.

She hadn’t noticed it when she walked into the room. It was dark, sturdy, and packed so tightly that the straps strained around it. Several weapons were secured to the side. Dron’s military markings were stitched into the fabric.

The utensil slipped from Tempest’s hand and clattered against the plate.

Dron followed her gaze.

The entire room seemed to shrink around her.

"That’s your bag," Tempest whispered.

Dron didn’t answer.

"You’re packed."

He looked down at the table.

Tempest tried to take a breath, but her chest locked. She had spent the entire morning pretending that this day was normal, and that bag destroyed every lie she had told herself. Dron wasn’t simply going out to take care of something. He wasn’t going to Gerax’s home or the royal mansion. He was leaving her. He was going somewhere she couldn’t follow.

Tears spilled down her cheeks before she had a chance to stop them.

Dron was out of his seat instantly.

"Tempest."

She covered her face, embarrassed by how quickly she had fallen apart. "I’m sorry."

"No." Dron lowered himself beside her chair and wrapped both arms around her waist. "You do not apologize."

"I was trying not to do this." Her voice cracked. "I wanted today to be good. I wanted you to leave without worrying about me."

"How could I not worry about you?"

Tempest dropped her hands and looked down at him. Dron’s expression was filled with so much pain that it only made her cry harder.

"I don’t want you to go."

"I don’t want to go either."

"I know you have to. I know what you’re doing is important, and I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you, Dron." Tempest cradled his face between her hands. "You stood up in that room and made all those people listen to you. You were strong. You were everything I’ve always known you could be."

Dron’s eyes lowered.

"I walked into their trap."

"No. You told the truth. They’re the ones twisting it." Tempest wiped at her cheeks. "I wish everyone could see you the way I do. I wish they knew how kind you are. How good you are. They look at your scars and your size and decide you’re some kind of monster, but you’re not. You’re the best man I’ve ever known."

Dron closed his eyes tightly.

Tempest leaned forward until her forehead rested against his.

"You feed people because you can’t stand the idea of anyone being hungry. You protect strangers even when they’ve done nothing to deserve your loyalty. You made a chair for a man you barely knew because it hurt you to see him suffer. You loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself. How can they not see that?"

"I don’t need them to see it." Dron opened his eyes. "You see it."

The words shattered something inside her.

Tempest wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft and wet with her tears. Dron rose enough to pull her from the chair and settle her onto his lap as he sat on the floor. They held each other there, neither of them caring about the food getting cold on the table.

"I love you," Tempest whispered against his mouth.

"I love you, my temptation."

"You’re coming back to me."

"I will do everything in my power to return."

"That isn’t good enough."

Dron’s fingers tightened against her back.

"I will come back."

Tempest kissed him again. She didn’t know if promises had power on this planet. She didn’t know if fate listened when people begged it for mercy, but she needed his words to be true.

A soft sound came from the front of the house and the lights flickered.

Dron froze.

Tempest knew what it meant without anyone telling her.

Time.

She didn’t move from his lap as the door opened and Gerax stepped inside with Mexyn behind him. Both of them stopped when they saw Tempest and Dron sitting together on the floor.

"We can wait outside," Gerax offered.

"No." Tempest wiped her face and forced herself to stand. "It’s fine."

It wasn’t fine.

Nothing about this was fine.

Dron rose and walked toward his bag. Tempest followed him, reaching out to straighten one of the straps even though there was nothing wrong with it. Her fingers remained on the fabric for several seconds.

Mexyn stepped closer and took Tempest’s hand.

"I’ll stay with you."

Tempest nodded because she couldn’t trust herself to speak.

Dron lifted the bag onto his shoulder and looked around the home. His gaze moved over the cooking area, the main room, Squab, and finally Tempest. There was something so final about the way he looked at everything that panic ripped through her.

She rushed forward and threw herself into his arms.

Dron caught her.

"I’m not ready," she cried.

"Neither am I."

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Tempest held onto the front of his clothing as if her grip alone could stop him from leaving.

Eventually Gerax cleared his throat softly.

Dron pulled back, though he kept one hand wrapped around Tempest’s.

"I have to go."

Tempest forced herself to nod.

She walked with him to the waiting transport. Mexyn and Gerax followed several steps behind, giving them what little privacy they could. When they reached the open hatch, Dron placed his bag inside but didn’t climb in.

Tempest looked up at him.

"Be careful."

"You too."

"I’ll be right here."

Dron touched the side of her face.

"Where you belong." Tempest continued.

He kissed her one final time before stepping into the transport.

Tempest watched the door close between them.

Only after the machine lifted into the sky did her knees give out.

Mexyn caught her before she hit the ground.