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Z’leni presses his forehead to mine, his voice rough and low. “With you, dragoste... even the impossible feels within reach.”

Ryatuv covers my hand with his, his touch grounding.

“We will build a future,” he says. “A place for our kind. For yours. For all of us.”

I smile, blinking against the sudden sting in my eyes. Not sadness. Not fear.

Just hope. Bright and burning.

Z’leni leans in first, brushing his lips over mine in a kiss that feels reverent—a silent promise. I sigh into him, fingers tangling in the rough cords of his hair.

Ryatuv growls low, more amused than jealous, and catches me as I turn to him. His kiss is different—deeper, claiming. Possessive in a way that makes my toes curl against the stone.

When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, smiling, wrapped in them both.

Z’leni chuckles, wicked and warm. “You should know by now, little flame—wandering off means we have to chase you.”

“And catching you,” Ryatuv rumbles, eyes flashing, “always comes with consequences.”

“Delicious consequences,” I echo, laughing—wild and alive—as I tackle them both back onto the warm stone in a tangle of arms, wings, and laughter under the burning sky.

Above us, Tajss stretches wide and eternal. Fierce. Beautiful. Ours.

And I know—I know—no matter what comes next, we’ll face it side by side.

Love wasn’t our weakness. It was our beginning.

Our fire.

Our future.

EPILOGUE - ROSALIND

ROSALIND

The twin suns beat down relentlessly, but I barely feel their heat. My blood thrums with purpose, adrenaline humming beneath my skin.

Ahead, Visidion moves with easy grace, his wings half-furled against the wind. His face is weathered and scarred, his horns dulled by time—but his eyes burn with purpose. Hope stirs in my chest. Tentative. Fragile. But real.

Beside him, Shidan walks with measured, almost reverent steps.

We crest the ridge, and the barren valley stretches before us. Sand devils twist lazily through the dust. Far ahead, jagged stone juts from the earth—too precise, too intentional to be natural.

The ruins. An ancient Zmaj city, hidden by time and sand. Shidan’s voice cuts through the heavy air, low and steady.

“I found it long ago,” Shidan says quietly, “when I wandered, after the Devastation. It was empty then—no living Zmaj. Only echoes. And shelter.”

I glance at Visidion, and he meets my gaze with a slow, certain nod. It’s more than we dared hope for.

Shidan steps forward and kneels, dragging a claw through the sand to sketch a rough map. The wind tries to erase it, but his lines are sure and practiced.

“The structures are sound. Strong. There are dangers, of course, creatures that nest in abandoned places, but nothing we cannot handle.”

A home. A real home.

Not burrows beneath the earth. Not sun-bleached tents half-buried in sand. A place to live. To grow. To build a future.

A home for T’vori to come of age in.