Page 332 of Reaper Said Mine

He goes still.

I continue before the silence can become fear. “I’ll travel when stories require it. I’ll build bureaus where we need them. I’ll yell at politicians across multiple systems and probably get sued by impressive people. But this is home base now.”

His hand tightens slightly around mine.

“Guyver?”

“You.”

The word leaves me quietly, but it changes his face completely.

For a male who has faced fleets without flinching, Gnash looks almost undone by one small sentence. His crimson eyes soften, and the bond between us warms until my chest feels full of light.

“I have no objection,” he says.

My laugh comes out shaky. “That is your response?”

“If I answer too strongly, you will accuse me of being possessive.”

“I might.”

“I am learning caution.”

“You are learning loopholes.”

“Also useful.”

I step closer, and he lowers his head until his forehead rests gently against mine. Around us, cargo sleds hum past, workers shout, and ships arrive through trade lanes that only weeks ago carried fire. The future does not arrive clean. It arrives patched, noisy, bruised, and demanding help.

That feels right.

“I love you,” I whisper.

His eyes close. “I love you too, little reporter.”

“Founder and chief editor.”

“Little founder and chief editor.”

“You are pushing your luck.”

“I have always enjoyed danger.”

I smile against him.

The last light of the Badlands spills across the viewport and paints us in colors that once meant threat. Now they look like a horizon. Not safe, maybe. Not simple. But open.

Together, Gnash and are at the edge of everything we almost lost and everything we have chosen to build. He has found purpose beyond revenge, leadership beyond fear, and strength beyond violence. I have found purpose beyond survival, truth beyond ambition, and a love that does not make me smaller. Around us, Guyver Station hums with trade, work, argument, grief, laughter, and the stubborn music of people refusing to let catastrophe have the final word.

The galaxy will still lie.

We will still answer.

I do not feel like the girl recording the end of the world. I feel like a woman helping build what comes after.

And later that night, Gnash sets out to make me feel like a woman, period. His woman specifically.

We barely make it into the door of our shared quarters when his hands are all over me.