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S cribe cleared his throat with a nod from the lord of OneWorld. “Hear, ye. Hear, ye.”

The OneCreator sighed, something he did so well. As he did all things. “Get on with it,” he said, his royal glare a warning.

“Yes, sire. My pleasure, sire.” Rustling his cloak with a flourish, Scribe turned toward the audience which packed the throne room. “Today, our esteemed lord will pass judgment on the black-winged assassin called Dominion and the human Scourge-maybe-not-Scourge Madeline of Earth. They stand accused of breaking a sacred law of the OneCreator, who knows all, sees all, is all.”

“Today, Scribe. We’re on a clock. Give us the short version.” The lord of all of us lobbed a graceful, though masculine, leg over the arm of his throne, leaning into the back of his seat in what some would describe as a royal slouch.

As always, his form was magnificent. Scribe took a moment to document the OneCreator’s attire on an electronic pad, his thoughts controlling the keyboard.

The lord of Vast was clothed in soft, velvety black trousers hanging low on his masculine hips. On this judgment day, he had donned a brocaded satin robe in hues of blue and purple, the likes of which Scribe had never seen. Its fabric was thick. Its folds soft. Its royal cloth tumbling to the floor.

He glanced at his sire. Though the OneCreator was without flaw and always correct, Scribe had imagined a lengthy formal process to precede the announcement of the verdict—an introduction of important parties, a statement of accusations, a summary of the testimony. All would lead to the OneCreator’s most-wise verdict. “Sire. There is a script we follow in these proceedings.”

“Who wrote it?”

“I did, my lord.”

“Rewrite it.”

“Certainly.” Scribe entered a few notes into his pad, reminding himself to edit future court procedures. He did so without malice, though each word he had written for the occasion had been perfect. Later, he would think long and hard on an appropriate revision. Setting his device aside, he opened volume seven of the OneCreator’s Laws . “It is written that no Immortal may offer blood to a Blood Leech Scourge.” His gaze scanned the crowd. “Though I have read the shortened version, the law is clearly written. Praise be to the OneCreator in his wisdom.”

Waving Scribe aside, the greatest being in the galaxy unfolded his masculine form from his throne, pulling himself up to his nearly seven-foot height.

Scribe entered his sire’s actions into his pad.

When the OneCreator stood, his robe parted to bare his bronze, wide chest. He shook his head, his blond hair falling straight down his back, a waterfall of bright sunshine, an appropriate frame for his purple eyes. His feet were bare, his legs mighty, his shoulders broad, his height towering. He was glorious.

Along with the others in the crowd, Scribe awaited the OneCreator’s judgment.

His regal voice thundered across the throne room, holding all gathered in its thrall. “I have heard testimony for and against Dominion and Madeline. I have studied the law of which they stand accused of breaking. I have read the once-lost Laws for Mated Pairs , turned over to the court by the bonded Immortal Jasmine. In those ancient rulings, much latitude is granted to mated pairs.”

Tetrys rose, his fists tugging on the lapels of his robe. His tenor voice spread throughout the courtroom. “I object.”

The OneCreator arched his god-like brows. “How can you object when I have not stated my judgment?”

The prosecution wisely took his seat.

“I have listened to all testimony. I heard that the human may not have been a Scourge. Likewise, my black-winged assassin and Madeline claim a bond, a thread ties them to one another, making them mates. I believe them. So, which law prevails? A mate may take any action deemed reasonable to save a mate? Or no Immortal may willingly allow a Scourge to drink their blood?”

As the attendees held their breath, he announced, “Dominion and Madeline are deemed mates and, therefore, not guilty. And since the hybrid Madeline was never a true Scourge, I will not hold her accountable for being a Blood Leech. Henceforth, they are set free.”

The crowd roared. Scribe nodded at the most-wise ruling while a few booed, though quietly so as not to offend the OneCreator.

Dominion and Michael, longtime enemies, shook hands, appearing to mend their centuries-long rift. The Bearer of Death, today the defense, hugged Madeline, a unique being in OneWorld.

The OneCreator pulled Terrell and Jasmine to the side. Scribe, who must know Vast’s business in order to document it, moved close to listen in on the conversation.

“How many young are in your camp?” asked the sire.

Unfortunately, since Terrell lowered his voice to a whisper, Scribe could not hear the answer, but the OneCreator arched a royal brow.

As the courtroom began to clear, the grand sire handed the Law for Mated Pairs to Scribe. “Please document this book and pass it to Librarian to be housed in the Hall of Time.”

The OneCreator signaled for Dom and the hybrid Scourge Madeline to remain behind. Again, for the sake of his duty, Scribe tried to listen in but was shooed off. Obeying, he tucked the Law for Mated Pairs under his arm and hurried to complete his worthy task.

****

M addy preferred to go home, but no one ignored the OC, certainly not a human-Scourge-Immortal whatever. So she laced her fingers in Dom’s and approached the throne.

The OC cocked his head to one side, studying her until she shifted from foot to foot nervously. She bit back a “What?” Then she felt a thousand probing fingers exploring her mind. Her knees weakened, and Dom’s arms came around her to keep her on her feet.

“Stop,” her mate commanded.

The OC halted. “Madeline,” he said, “OneWorld has not treated you well.”

She steadied herself with a hand on Dom’s shoulder. “Not at first. But I think life is looking up.” The OC was correct, up to a point. Her kidnapping and torture had been horrible. She could do without wanting her mate’s blood or the trial. But finding Dom was worth all the unpleasantness. And she was accepting her physiological changes. Al-Anon’s three Cs. “I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t change it.” For once, she was happy for her childhood and its lessons.

The OC rested his elbows on his knees. “Somehow you have obtained gifts along with your unique hybrid form. You can heal and extinct.”

“I’d give them back if I could.”

“I believe you. Do you wish to use these gifts in service to OneWorld?”

“No. Hell, no. I mean, I wouldn’t mind healing things, but not the rest. I don’t want to be an assassin and kill Immortals who become Scourges. Never. That’s not me.”

“I see that, Madeline. You have a sympathetic heart.”

No time like the present for her question. With confidence, she asked, “Since I’ll be sticking around, there’s one job I’d like.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to be a librarian again.”

“Angor or Vast?”

She glanced at Dom. “Angor?”

He nodded.

“Angor it is. I am uncertain how you became what you are or why you are here, but I am satisfied you are worthwhile. I have no inclination to kill what I do not understand. I do have an inclination to keep an eye on you and to find answers to my questions.”

“We want answers, too,” said Maddy.

****

D om tapped his mate on the shoulder. “I’ll be just a moment. Wait for me outside.” He added, “Please.”

She dawdled out of the throne room, probably curious about why he stayed behind.

Dom had a request. It was time. Damn . It was past time.

The OC relaxed into his throne, his elbow on an arm. “You are gonna ask for a vacation, aren’t you? Granted.”

Dom shook his head. “No, but I’ll take it.”

The OC looked at him askance. “Are you thinking you can quit your job because you are pissed at me? I will not allow that. Be as angry as you want, but you will remain an assassin.”

“Nope. Not gonna quit. And I’m not really pissed. I expected to be caught and punished. So the not-guilty verdict is an appreciated reprieve. I’m down with it.”

“Then what the fuck is it? Do not keep me waiting. I have courtiers to entertain.” His eyes flicked to the side, dark circles under them making him look tired. “I also have female Immortals who make it their life’s pleasure to entertain me.”

“A request,” said Dom.

“Spill.” The OC pointed at the I-giveth-I-taketh-away reminder written above his throne as if any of the Feard could forget it.

“Once, I asked for a permanent reminder of my extincting Gareth. You let me keep my wound, and I thank you. I needed it. Now I realize the best of him is in here.” Dom tapped a finger to his temple. “The early Immortal. I’ll not forget who he became, but I’ll remember a legendary warrior and assassin, too. My friend. But it’s time for me to heal so that my memory of him is of the whole male not just the damaged Flesh Eater.”

Dom fixed his gaze on the OC. “First, I have a question. Why did you send me after Gareth? You must have understood its impact. In part, you played a role in my guilt.”

“Not sure you’ll understand.”

“Try me. I’ve grown wiser.”

“You’re a great warrior, Dominion, with a strong sense of right and wrong. An ethical right and wrong. Not a legal one. And you are stubborn.”

Dom rubbed his bad eye. “I can see that.”

“I did not seek to give you guilt. I sought to show you truth. You needed to experience the complex being Gareth had become, his strengths and weaknesses. Without that picture, you would never have believed he was unable to survive a malady. I sent you after the truth. You found it, but in your stubbornness, you did not accept it—until now.”

“It was a hard lesson.”

“Harder than I had foreseen, but worthwhile truths often are.”

“I have carried the shadow of Gareth inside me. He was guilt, a darkness that ate away at me. Madeline shone a light on that darkness. She helped drive it away. Do you ever question your choices?” asked Dom.

The OneCreator smiled, shifting a bit in his throne.

“No answer?”

“To question my judgment would mean I do not see the future. To question my decisions would mean I do not see their impact on my Immortals.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Yes, it is. It just isn’t the one you want. The answers to our questions are not always clear. So back to your request. Do you no longer need a reminder of your betrayal?”

“I no longer believe I betrayed him. You cannot help someone who does not want to help himself.”

“A wise perspective on the matter.”

“A good person told me this.”

“Approach, Dominion, my onyx-winged assassin.”

When he did, the OC barely waved his fingers. Dom’s patch fell away. “May you be as free of the past as you wish. May you remember my troubled copper-winged assassin as he truly was. As I remember him. The good and the bad at odds. Yet, strangely, they made him whole.”

The light was brighter. Dom hadn’t realized that in seeing from only one eye his surroundings had dimmed.

The OC shooed him out.

Dom pushed through the door, his path clearer, his future shinier, and Maddy waiting for him on the steps of Sanctuary Keep.

She slapped a hand to her mouth but was unable to smother her gasp. “Dom,” she cried out, her eyes watery. “You didn’t do that for me, did you? I loved you as you were.” She paused to smile. “I also love you as you are. I guess I just love you.”

“I would have done it for you, but no. I asked the OC to heal me because I no longer need to carry guilt. You made me see I never did, but I’m a slow learner.”

On the return home, Dom saw OneWorld with two eyes again. The view was almost blinding, despite cloudy skies.

When he and Maddy landed, Freki raced up the steps and into the salon, crashing into his mate. Laughing, she ruffled his fur. With what passed for a wolver’s smile, he jumped and twisted, tail wagging, happy to see them.

Scratch that. Freki was happy to see Madeline. He greeted Dom with a bounce of his snout and a “Hey.”

After Madeline fed the wolver and whispered in his ear, she disappeared into the bedroom. Freki stilled for a moment, his eyes moist, before he returned to chowing down.

Dom said, “After you eat, get lost.”

He paused. “Why?”

“We’ll be celebrating our release.”

“I don’t need the deets. Got a gal wolver waiting for me to play hide the hot dog with her. Didn’t plan to stick around and watch you fumble your dick with Madeline.”

Dom snarled. “Just be sure to get lost.”

“Don’t you want to know about my love life?”

“No.”

“Sad. You could use a few pointers.”

Dom shook his head but paused in the doorway, staring over his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your mate, Freki.”

The wolver stopped eating, his eyes tearing up again. “Time does not heal all wounds—but they scab over.” He bounced his nose and returned to his task as if his stomach were as empty as his heart.