Page 86

Carla

One Year Later

I sit upon my throne in limbo, a structure born of pure magic, suspended in the endless void.

No stone, no substance—only the shape of power formed by my will alone.

My gown drapes around me, conjured from my own magic—deep black threaded with emerald accents woven in quiet patterns that move with every subtle shift.

Around my neck rests the spider necklace Amari gave me on our first, chaotic date.

I touch it without thinking, its presence a quiet reassurance.

It has become a symbol of our love, a reminder of how far we’ve come since the day we first met and everything began to shift.

Kemnebi rests on one arm of my throne while Moria perches on the other, both partially in my lap.

I stroke them gently, watching as their legs twitch in contentment.

It’s been a year, and I’ve noticed that Moria no longer climbs onto my chest like she used to.

She doesn’t need to protect my heart anymore—it’s no longer vulnerable. I am no longer vulnerable.

“You’ve grown,” I whisper to her, and she taps her front legs against my arm, sending images of pride and love.

This year has been wonderful—a beautiful time of growth and discovery as I’ve embraced my role as queen and settled into the mate bond with Amari.

But beneath the contentment lies a current of unease.

Tabatha warned me of difficult battles ahead, painful sacrifices I would need to make.

So far, those battles haven’t surfaced, but I can feel them coming. A storm gathering on the horizon.

The giant spider approaches my throne, carrying a head in its massive mandibles.

I’ve named him Vertro—a blend of Verde and Petra, my fallen children whose essence flows through his veins.

Unlike my children, Vertro can’t communicate with me through images, but he’s fiercely loyal, more like a devoted guard dog than a sentient companion.

He drops the head at the steps of my magical throne, then bows to me, his eight eyes glittering in the ethereal nothingness of limbo.

“Good boy, Vertro. I’m so proud of you,” I say, examining the head. It belonged to a child predator who’s been running through limbo for what feels like months. Time doesn’t exist here the way it does in the living realm, but I’ve learned to judge its passage based on events there.

Vertro stabs his fangs into the head, then scuttles away to the magical web nearby—his bed—where he settles in to feed.

My children don’t like him; they don’t see him as natural.

But they tolerate him for my sake. I’ve noticed that he obeys Moria the most, which irritates Kemnebi to no end. Their silent power struggle amuses me.

I stand from my throne, and Kemnebi and Moria jump down, following me as I descend from the floating dais. With a wave of my hand, I open a portal—a rift in the fabric of limbo that reveals my palace on the other side.

“I’ll be back in a couple of days to check on you,” I tell Vertro, who continues his feast undisturbed.

I step through the portal, my black gown flowing behind me like smoke. Kemnebi and Moria follow, and the portal seals itself shut as we arrive in the grand foyer of our palace.

Soldiers of Medina Shadow stand at attention along the walls, immediately bowing as I enter.

“My Queen,” they say together, their voices calm and unified.

“I’m still getting used to that,” I mutter, then add more loudly, “You may stand down and play with them.”

Kemnebi and Moria scuttle eagerly toward the soldiers, who have clearly been waiting for this moment.

One pulls a ball from his pocket and bounces it, and my children immediately join in the game.

Medina Shadow has embraced them completely, forming bonds I never would have imagined possible a year ago.

I walk away, the sound of my footsteps carrying through the vast foyer.

The palace Amari built for us stretches across thousands of square feet, filled with countless rooms and hidden corridors.

It’s spacious enough to shelter all of Medina Shadow and their families, with areas dedicated to training, gatherings, and ritual work.

Amari was determined to make sure our home could hold everyone who matters to us.

The main foyer opens into a long hallway decorated with intricate artwork depicting scenes from Moorish history and culture.

The mosaic floor beneath me is laid out in bold geometric patterns and vivid colors.

Iron sconces line the walls, each holding a steady flame.

The scent of frankincense and myrrh drifts through the hallway—Amari’s preferred blend, a reminder of his homeland.

I approach the double doors at the end of the hallway, which open magically at my approach.

My hips sway with a confidence I didn’t possess a year ago.

I’m no longer uncertain about who I am or my place in this world.

I don’t fight for space in Wintermoon anymore—I’ve created my own space, claimed my own power.

I’m respected, feared, and I no longer care about fitting in.

I have Amari, my children, and Medina Shadow. What more could I need?

The office beyond the doors is centered around a long table of polished ebony.

At the far end, two white men sit bound and gagged, straining against their restraints with muffled screams. Amari sits at the head of the table, reviewing a stack of papers.

Bobby stands on one side of him, while Tofi—ever the daddy’s girl—settles comfortably on the other.

Amari looks up as I enter, immediately setting aside his papers and standing to bow his head.

“My Queen,” he says, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“My Queen,” Bobby says, offering me the same respectful bow.

I smile and return Bobby’s greeting with a Black Panther salute—executed correctly this time. He grins back at me, his eyes twinkling with approval.

“What’s going on?” I ask, eyeing the bound men at the end of the table.

Amari clears his throat and adjusts his tie, a gesture I’ve come to recognize as his tell when he’s not being entirely forthcoming. He walks around the table to approach me, and I smirk, leaning in for a kiss but still waiting for my answer.

“I was just going over some legal documents to shut down Brookstone and Blackburn Enterprises,” he says after our lips part. “It would only be temporary, but it’s a start.”

I grin at that. “Are you going to Detroit?”

Amari glares at me. “You know I won’t step a foot off Wintermoon without you.”

I play with his tie, straightening it unnecessarily. “I’m just messing with you. What else?”

“And looking over the five finalists for the Medina Corp scholarship fund,” he continues. “I want to get five Black students into some of the best universities in the country. Each one has begged for a position with Medina Corp when they graduate, which I’m going to approve, of course.”

“Why pick one when you can pick all five?” I suggest. “Just make only one the face of the fund so that it looks challenging.”

Amari smiles, moving closer to me. “You are magnificent. That was my plan all along.”

I look over to the bound men and point at them questioningly. We both look to Bobby, who chokes on a laugh.

“I miss hunting sometimes,” Amari admits, watching my expression carefully.

I place my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes at him. He looks nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I have no desire to visit Midnight Moon for a feed,” he assures me quickly. “That life is beneath me.”

“I know that,” I say. “I’m not questioning your loyalty. I’m questioning why you haven’t been forthcoming about your struggles.”

“I told you so,” Bobby mutters under his breath.

Amari shoots him a look. “Shut the fuck up,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it.

Bobby just laughs. In the past year, he’s become more of a brother than a lieutenant to Amari.

He loves Wintermoon so much that he spends more time here than at the office, and Amari often has to remind him to maintain a presence at the company.

Amari turns back to me, his expression softening into that adorable, puppy-like look he knows I can’t resist. “I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

“What did they do?” I ask, nodding toward the bound men.

“They committed a modern-day racial crime,” Amari explains. “They opened fire at a peaceful civil rights protest, claiming self-defense. Should have been prosecuted, but the law let them walk because of their white privilege.”

“The family has been compensated properly for their loss,” Bobby adds. “We made sure of that.”

I look over at the men, studying them thoughtfully. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”

“I know the law of the vampire,” Amari says before I can comment further. “Don’t interfere with human affairs. I’ll release them and send them back over the border.”

I grin wickedly at him. “Why?”

Amari looks up at me, surprise evident in his features. Then understanding dawns, and he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.

“You’ve been doing this while I’m in limbo?” I ask, placing my hands on him and pushing him back slightly. “Sneaking them in so you can feed?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking genuinely contrite.

I huff in frustration. “We are fated mates, Amari. I should know when you’re struggling with something. This bothers me.”

“What can I do to fix this?” he asks earnestly. “I don’t like my queen unhappy.”

I glance at the men and say loudly enough for them to hear, “I hope you end up in limbo so Vertro can feed on your souls.” They struggle harder against their restraints, eyes wide with terror.

“Does the king know about this?” I ask, turning back to Amari.

“Yes,” he admits. “I mentioned my struggles, and this was the solution—so long as I keep it under the radar.”

“So everyone knows but me,” I say, huffing again.

Amari’s lips form a perfect pout that would look ridiculous on anyone else but somehow works on him.

“You are making up for this,” I tell him firmly.

“I will do anything,” he promises.

“Good. I’ll see you after your meal.”

I kiss him again, and he responds with all the love and devotion that has defined our relationship this past year.

His lips move against mine with familiar passion, his hands cradling my face as if I’m something precious, something irreplaceable.

I can taste his hunger—not just for blood, but for me, always for me.

When I pull away, his golden eyes are darker, watching me with steady intent.

“Later, Bobby,” I say, and he gives me the Black Panther salute before bowing his head respectfully.

I blow a kiss at Tofi, who taps her feet excitedly, sending images spelling out “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, baby,” I respond, then turn and walk out of the office.

The doors slam shut behind me, and I grin wickedly when I hear the men’s screams until they abruptly stop.

I look up at the large foyer and the beautiful stained-glass ceiling of our castle.

It’s reminiscent of Amari’s life in Granada—he wanted a design that would keep a piece of himself alive in our home.

I release my magic, letting pink threads spill from my fingertips to form a suspended web bed in the air. I rise to it and settle in, listening to the sounds of Medina Shadow men playing with Kemnebi and Moria—the thud of a bouncing ball and bursts of laughter.

I have a happy home—the home I always dreamed of.

I think about when I first arrived at Wintermoon, how much I struggled, how Amir saw me for who I was: just another supernatural looking for sanctuary.

He gave me that, along with a job at the sheriff’s station.

It was a beginning, but this—this is where I was always meant to be.

Sadness fills me as I think of Verde and Petra, mourning for my fallen children.

But it was their death that brought me Amari, this magnificent, beautiful, charming, arrogant asshole of a vampire who lives to serve me.

I realize that I haven’t been serving him in return, and that’s about to change.

I should have known he was struggling, but I’ve been too busy with limbo and training Vertro.

The doors to the office open, and Amari walks into the middle of the foyer, looking up to see me in my web bed. I send down a magical thread, wrapping it around him and pulling him up to join me. He moves next to me, pulling me close against his side.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I ask, reaching into his suit jacket to pull out his handkerchief. I use it to clean the small traces of blood from the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sorry for hiding it from you,” he says, his expression solemn.

I shake my head and caress his face. “I love you, Amari. More than you understand.”

“My beautiful queen—” he begins, but I stop him before he can pull me into a kiss.

“Yes, queen, but fated mate first,” I remind him. “Stop putting my status before our mate bond.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises.

“It better not,” I say, finally allowing him to kiss me.

“I love you too,” he murmurs against my lips, his hand moving to my breast as he deepens the kiss.

Amari breaks away, moving his lips down to my neck, planting gentle kisses that make me shiver.

I wrap my arms around him, savoring the feeling of his beating heart against my body.

I look up at the crystal glass window above us, smiling wickedly.

I love how much Amari yearns for me, loves me, craves me.

It’s a love I want to last forever, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure it does—no matter what battles lie ahead, no matter what sacrifices Fate demands of me.

Because this—this man, these children, this home—is worth fighting for.

This is my happily ever after, bathed in shadow and light.

The End