Page 28

EVERLY

The three moons of Rodinia Tertius painted our bedroom in shades of silver and blue, casting long shadows across the furs of our sleeping platform.

I’d grown to love these quiet nights, when the hunting and training and politics fell away, leaving just the three of us in our private sanctuary.

Zehn lay with his head in my lap, his massive body sprawled across the furs like a contented housecat rather than the lethal predator I knew him to be.

His eyes were half-closed, a low purr rumbling from his chest as my fingers worked through his thick mane.

The night was cool, the moons casting silver light through the open terrace of our home.

Khaaz pressed against my side, warm and solid, his nose nuzzling the shell of my ear as he rumbled in contentment.

His scarred hand traced lazy patterns on my thigh, his touch reverent even after all these months together.

Overhead, the stars of this distant galaxy burned bright—stars I’d never seen from Earth, constellations that told Rodinian legends I was still learning. A breeze carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers drifted through the open archways, mingling with the musky, masculine scent of my mates.

Zehn’s tail flicked lazily against my ankle, a gesture of possessive comfort that had become familiar. His purr deepened when my fingers found that sensitive spot behind his ear, the vibration traveling up my arm and settling somewhere deep in my chest.

“You spoil him,” Khaaz murmured against my hair, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I spoil you both equally,” I replied, turning to press a kiss against his jaw. The scars there felt rough against my lips, a reminder of all he’d survived before finding us.

Zehn made a sound halfway between a purr and a growl, his eyes slitting open to fix on his fellow mate. “She does. Though you required more convincing to accept it.”

“Worth the wait,” Khaaz said simply, his hand sliding around my waist to pull me closer against him.

It was quiet. Perfect. The kind of moment I’d store away in my memory to revisit on the rare occasions when my mates were called away on Legion business. The sound of their breathing, the heat of their bodies, the complete sense of safety I felt nowhere else but between them.

Until Zehn tilted his head, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief as he purred against my stomach. The deep vibration sent a shiver through me, but then—his nose twitched, once, twice. He inhaled deeply, his pupils dilating as he processed whatever scent he’d caught.

His voice, low and knowing, filled the air. “Our mate carries our cubs.”

My breath caught. The world stilled. My fingers curled in his hair, my eyes widening as I sat up, looking between them.

“What?” I whispered, my heartbeat thundering in my chest.

Zehn smirked, lifting his head, dragging his tongue over my belly in slow appreciation. “I knew I smelled something different,” he purred. “You carry us both.”

Khaaz had gone completely still against me, his breathing shallow. Then, with a movement almost too fast to track, he shifted to kneel before me, his hands hovering over my still-flat stomach as though I’d suddenly become something infinitely precious and fragile.

“How is that possible?” I asked, my voice trembling. I knew Rodinians were genetically different from humans, that their reproductive biology operated differently, but this—carrying children from two fathers—seemed impossible.

“Fate provides,” Zehn said simply, as though that explained everything. To a Rodinian, perhaps it did.

Khaaz exhaled sharply, his hands suddenly reverent on my thighs, his forehead pressing against my shoulder as he let out a shaky breath. When he lifted his face, his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“I never thought—” he began, then stopped, overcome. “No one like me has ever reproduced before. They said we couldn’t. They said we were sterile.”

The pain in his voice cut through my shock. I knew enough about his past to understand—he’d been created as a weapon, not meant to have a lineage or legacy. This was more than unexpected; for him, it was miraculous.

“Well, they were wrong about a lot of things,” I said, cupping his scarred cheek in my palm. “They were wrong about you.”

Zehn’s tail curled possessively around my ankle as he moved to join us, his massive body forming a protective circle. “Our bloodlines will join,” he said, pride evident in every syllable. “The strongest Legion Reaper and the most lethal hybrid hunter. Our cubs will be formidable.”

And me? I laughed. Because of course. Of course this was how my life would turn out. Captured by a jungle planet. Claimed by two warriors. And now? Carrying their future.

I smiled, cupping both of their faces, pressing a kiss to each of them, breathing them in. Zehn’s confidence, Khaaz’s wonder, both of their unmitigated joy—it washed over me in waves, driving away any fear or doubt.

“How many?” I asked, suddenly curious about the practicalities. “Please tell me Rodinians don’t have litters.”

Zehn chuckled, his hand splaying across my belly. “Two,” he said confidently. “One of each. I can smell the difference.”

Khaaz pressed his ear against my stomach, though there couldn’t possibly be anything to hear yet. Still, he listened intently, his eyes closed in concentration. “Our family,” he whispered, the words reverent.

And as the stars glowed bright overhead, and I settled between my mates, between my forever, between my fate, I knew the truth. Fate knew what it was doing all along.

From Earth to the stars. From alone to beloved. From lost to found. Every step of my journey had been leading me here—to this moment, to these warriors, to the family we were creating together across the boundary of species and space.