I circled once, scanning for any sign of movement. Nothing. The ice below was pristine except for small animal tracks leading to and from various shacks, but no sign of human activity.
"It's stunning," Ellie murmured, her bright green eyes wide with delight.
I landed near the center of the lake, my feet touching down on ice so thick I felt its solidity. The impact sent a dull echo across the expanse. Ellie's boots hit the ice a moment later, and she stumbled slightly before finding her balance.
"Careful," I said, steadying her. "It's slicker than it looks."
She nodded, her breath visible in white puffs. The wind was sharper here, unimpeded by trees, cutting across the open ice with a low whistle.
I surveyed the scattered shacks, calculating angles, and wind patterns. The ones in the center were too exposed, too likely to be visited by rodents or casual fishermen. The cluster near the western shore caught my attention. Four structures huddled together, but one sat slightly apart from the others, positioned where the treeline met the ice.
"That one," I said, pointing.
Ellie followed my gaze. "Why that one specifically?"
"The wind." I lifted my hand, feeling the current. "It's coming from the northeast, funneled by the mountains. That shack sits right in the path, any scent will carry outward across the ice and up into the trees. My crew will catch it."
We made our way across the ice, footsteps crunching in the thin layer of snow that had accumulated on the surface. The shack grew larger as we approached, weathered wood the color of driftwood, a single small window dark and empty, a door secured with a simple latch.
I tested the door. Unlocked. It swung inward with a creak, revealing the dim interior. A wooden bench ran along one wall, layered with blankets. Ice fishing gear hung from hooks—an auger, a net, a tackle box covered in dust. The smell of old wood and fish permeated the small space.
"Perfect," I said, pulling the folded message from my pocket. The blood along its edges had dried to a dark brown, but it would be enough. More than enough.
I placed it in the corner of the shack, weighted down with a rusty can I found. The message sat there, unremarkable to anyone who might stumble across it, but unmistakable to anyone with the senses to detect what truly mattered.
"They'll find it," Ellie said, not quite a question.
"They'll find it." I took one last look at the placement and nodded to myself. The wind whipped through the cracks in the shack in icy tendrils. The scent would travel exactly as I needed it to.
"How long will it take your people to get here once they pick up Cullen's message?" Ellie asked.
I tilted my head, considering. "Not long. Twenty-four hours, perhaps."
She frowned, doing the math in her head. "But... it takes about three days just to fly from Earth to the moon. Your ship is somewhere around Saturn, isn't it? That's..."
"Much farther, yes," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice. "But our shuttles aren't built like your spacecraft, Ellie. They're designed for deep space travel. For speed. Your vessels are still bound by limitations we resolved centuries ago."
"Twenty-four hours," she repeated, the reality settling over her.
"Once they arrive, we'll have the resources we need," I continued, my tone shifting to something more strategic. "My crewmates are trained for situations like this. We'll formulate a plan, surveillance, extraction, whatever it takes. With their help, we can capture Declan without drawing attention. Quietly. Efficiently."
Ellie nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. "And then?"
"Then we restore you to the presidency. It shouldn't take more than a few days once everything is in motion." I studied her face, expecting relief, maybe even excitement. "You'll have your life back, Ellie. Your position. Everything he took from you."
But instead of the reaction I anticipated, something flickered across her features, something that looked almost like... sadness. An emotion that echoed in my own chest, sharp and unexpected.
The words had left my mouth so easily, so confidently.A few days. But as I said them, something twisted inside me, a sensation I hadn't felt in longer than I could remember.
This was ending.
All of it. Flying with her in my arms. The conversations that stretched late into the night. Her laughter. Her touch. The way she curled against me in sleep, trusting and warm. Her moans of pleasure echoing in my ears as I brought her to climax again and again.
In a few days, she would be President Eleanor Barrington Bradford again. Protected by the Secret Service. Surrounded by advisors and politicians and the weight of an entire nation. And I would be... what? The alien who'd helped her? A footnote in a classified file? A sweet memory that came to her late at night when she was alone in her bed?
The realization hit me like a physical blow, stealing my breath. I didn't want to lose her.
She had become everything.
