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The Bond reaches its crescendo, then on a final, harmonious note, it fades away. I blink, coming to my senses, searching the depths of my mind for the pool of ecstasy that always waits for me.

It’s gone. There’s only a hint of it, a still pool without a ripple.

Instead, my mind is filled with awe from the three alien warriors as they sense it at the same time as me.

“The seed has taken root,” says Doman, with reverence, and slides into the bed with me, pulling me up against his sweaty,massive body. Titus clambers on the other side, sandwiching me between three muscled beasts, and more vines knot together, forming a surface behind me. Gallien takes his place near my feet, the vines forming a place for him, and the three of us are tightly together, a sweaty, tangled mess of utter satisfaction.

Here, over the treetops, in the sacred groves of my people, all the evil of the universe is so far away. I press my head against Doman’s chest as he runs his fingers through my hair, and Titus kisses my neck as Gallien nuzzles my feet, and I melt into the three of them. I’ve never felt so safe, so secure.

Whatever we face, we’ll do it together.

49

EPILOGUE: TEN MONTHS LATER

“Back off!” barks out Cal, then looks shocked at the words that spilled from his mouth, and bows his head, apologizing to the warden who had the misfortune to come within ten feet of June. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” he says, as the warden puts his hands up amicably, but takes another route, disappearing into the forest.

The beautiful, ethereal Aurelian’s delicate features have hardened. He’s got a new, rough, blond beard that June has tried many times to get him to shave off—it hides his perfect jaw, she says—but he can’t be swayed. He’s in a silk suit, with finely embroidered vine patterns on his sleeve. He’s been scouted for a dozen modeling contracts, but he wears only June’s work. The vine patterns, brilliant green, match the new venomous tint of his veins.

“Calm, big guy, calm,” says June softly, but I know her well. She’s fighting back a beaming smile. She’s always loved men fighting over her, and Cal’s become rather more... possessive.

Over the last months, I spent teary nights video-calling my sister from the palace on Colossus. She and the Aurelian princebecame absolutely obsessed with each other. He stayed on Virelia instead of returning to Colossus. My sister has that effect on men.

What I wasn’t expecting was Cal’s effect on her. I’d seen men lose their minds, for her. I never saw her become just as crazed in return.

But there is no tragedy like the love between an Aurelian and a woman who is not her Mate. The pain intensified their obsession with each other, knowing that each moment was precious.

Cal was the first man she said she truly loved, and she was willing to endure the tragedy of growing old while he remained young.

That wasn’t what terrified her. Her calls became more frantic. Cal was growing more and more distant towards her, and thought he was going to end things.

Cal went deep into the books, ancient histories, and without asking her permission, he enacted an ancient ritual from the old times. Apparently, long, long ago, there were societies of Aurelians who rejected the Bond, and instead used a method of tattooing themselves with the venom of the Scorp. Trace amounts of that potent poison turns an Aurelian into a beastlier version of themselves. A version that is no longer infertile.

Cal disappeared for a week, and when he came back, he had blood tinted green. Most Aurelians don’t survive the sting of a Scorp, but he must have found the perfect dilution in his ancient texts to survive it. That’s just the way June is. Within a week or two—sometimes just a couple days—she can have a man utterly obsessed with her. In this case, willing to risk his life to taint his blood for the chance a happy future with her, for it seems the extended life of a human wedded to an Aurelian comes not just from the Bond but from fertility.

This is the first time I’ve seen her equally obsessed with a man. It’s so good to be back on Virelia after ten long months governing, and in my weeks here, when I come to visit June, she’s often simply watching him for hours while he reads. It’s hard to blame her. The man is gorgeous.

“How the quiet ones change,” chuckles Bruton, walking with us through the forest. He’s gained another thirty or forty pounds in peacetime. It suits him. At least ten of those pounds are in the black beard that grows down to his heavy belly. Evelyn, on the other hand, is thin as ever, and walks happily at his side, hand in hand with the leader, as all of us, happily stuffed after another feast at my parents’ house, take an evening stroll through the quiet freshness of the forest.

Doman is at my side, and I walk a little slower now. Titus and Gallien are with the other two of Evelyn’s triad, knocking their heads together on strategy and governance while the rest of us take a well-earned break.

Doman’s aura is more relaxed on Virelia. We took a trip here to unwind, and with my due date coming soon—Aurelian pregnancies last longer than the nine-month standard for humans—we decided to make a trip here, barring any crisis that needs to be put out on Colossus. I wish we could have visited more often. The decree against Orb-Shifting means we must travel here conventionally, and though Doman can rule from the helm of his warship, he prefers to be in the epicenter of the Aurelian Empire, with his finger on the pulse.

Flickers above are the constant swarm of Reavers that form a guard over the home. The Aurelians don’t blend into the forests as well as wardens, and silent triads patrol along with the Virelians who form my honor guard.

Virelia, with its abundant nature, is an escape from the pressures of rule. The formerly sterile, cold planning of the capital city on Colossus has been turned into chaos. Aureliantriads seem to be returning weekly with their Fated Mates, and other triads leave, searching out their women, coming back empty-handed then venturing forth once again when they get another leave from service. The traditional feasts and parties held every time a triad’s eyes turn from slate grey to color have become a regular occurrence, and what used to be a rare sight, pregnant women on Colossus, now feels normal.

For me, I’m still getting used to it. I groan, running my hands over my swollen belly. June’s taken to affectionally calling me her “big beluga,” but there’s a thread of envy in it. She and Cal certainly haven’t lacked trying. My parents ended up buying her a new home, and I don’t blame them—there's no sleep to be had if you’re anywhere near to her and Cal. The two of them will be wed this weekend, in a massive ceremony that will dwarf mine, and I’ve got a feeling June pushed for it because I was impregnated on my wedding night, and she hopes that lightning will strike twice.

All she can talk about is my baby, and she desperately wants our kids to grow up together. Deep down, I know they will. I’m sure her future will have a thousand fights over whether to send her kid to Colossus for Academy or enter warden training on Virelia, but Cal’s a big boy, and I know he can handle her.

Doman can feel my pace slowing. He pauses, and I nod to him, and he gently lifts me up. I might have gained weight—most of it in my breasts and ludicrously swollen belly—but I’ll always be light as a feather to him. I sigh. It’s good to be off my swollen feet. I glance over at June, feeling at ease.

It had been my darkest worry. The thought of staying young while June aged put a shadow on my bliss. It’s a pale imitation of the Bond for her—she doesn’t get to feel his thoughts, or deal with the mental changes, but her life will be extended to match his. Perhaps not to the thousands of years I have to look forwardto, but many, many centuries at least. The old texts are spotty on the details. Scorp-Blooded Aurelians keep to themselves.

June kisses Cal goodnight. He insists on walking her up to the door of their treetop home, and kisses her again, before coming down with us. He casts a last longing look to their simple home, but governance awaits. While Virelia is an escape from the chaos of Colossus, there’s no real way to fully detach from the pressures of rule. Most nights here, the triads get into deep discussions in our forest home, poring over star-maps, planning their next moves.

A little farther into the forest and Doman walks me up the curved wooden staircase that wraps around the thick trunk of the tree we made our home in. It’s Virelian architecture, sized up for my men so Doman doesn’t have to duck his head into the entryway. I yawn hugely as he sets me down, and we kick off our shoes.