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A Royal guard beside Pronkus lifts a hand. Jovie’s eyes dart to him. Green-white light flashes between them. The guard staggers back and collapses.

My father stares emotionlessly at Jovie, and I know he’s in shock. No one ever stands and speaks with such arrogance to my father. “Why did it have to be you? You’re a weak species.”

She shrugs. “Maybe your perception of us is wrong.”

Blaize jeers quietly from where he lies, bleeding from his nose, on the floor beside Fieri. “She’s got balls.”

“You kings and delegates and Elders are the monsters,” she says. “You are so twisted by your beliefs that you don’t even see how you are killing your own people.”

“It is few to save the many.” My father retorts, electricity arcing off of his body in warning. “But I’m not arguing with a non . Whatever this is, is manufactured. You’re as worthless as self-important Genesis followers.”

Jovie steps in front of me and ignites a shield, deflecting my father’s surge. Lightning arcs around us as Jovie is pushed back into my body. “You manufactured your entitlement as a Royal!”

I hunker around Jovie, enduring the barrage of arcs from Royals, and pull my mate in against me until my Arkus shield meshes with hers.

My father’s assault stops.

White light flashes outside, apart from the Royals who clamber back.

“King Azrim!” a voice booms between us and my father.

I squint at the vibrant body of light that slowly walks toward him. Kings, guards, and commoners hunker away from her.

“Amphirans,” Allele says with long, low rumbling notes. “I am Orillium, the last of my kind with a mobile form. We used to reside together on Amphir many centuries ago. But you have lost your way.

“Only those with a pure Storm may find their way home. New Order, you are Amphiran in body, not in spirit. Not in mind. Not in heart. Not in Storm. You are Senescent and no longer carry the honor of the title of Amphiran. Leave Amphiran and Federation space, or I will reap your Storms and render you human.”

My father and the other Royals in the room gape in speechless horror.

Allele motions for Jovie to drop the shield. Jovie does but stays ready.

“You will never overpower the natural Order of Amphir. You can hide it, crush it, bend it, fracture it, even outlaw it,” Allele’s body of light pulses as she speaks. “But when your effort dies, nature will continue. Even you know that you cannot fight your Storm forever, King of Tiatith .”

A collective gasp fills the crowd.

“What is she talking about?” I ask.

“Ignore her. She is just a light phantom, a ghost!” My father shouts.

Allele sends an arc from her chest to my father’s. He coughs and stumbles back. “Stop lying to your people!”

“You can’t hurt me!” But the way he says it tells me he isn’t quite sure.

“Aura, cover Jovie’s eyes. She is too fresh to see this.” Allele turns to Pronkus, lifts a hand, and ignites his Storm. “Eluni?”

Eluni makes her way through the crowd of commoners and Genesis and Royals. “Allele.”

“For your son.” Allele rips a body of green light from Pronkus and hovers it before him as he coughs and staggers on his feet.

“My people were not always peaceful. I have put up with you petulant Royals long enough! You harmed my charge and his pregnant mate. You killed Eluni’s child and her mate.

This is just one example of your punishment. Consider yourself lucky.”

She claws up her hand, and Pronkus’ Storm shatters into a million green diamonds that scatter over the floor of the ship like fading glitter.

Pregnant? I clutch Jovie against me, draw in her scent, and know Allele is right. My mate carries our first child.

“Jovie,” I whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looks up at me. “I didn’t know.”

Allele lowers her hand and faces the Elders.

“You disappoint me the most. You swore to protect Amphir. Now you hide from it. Some of you left your ancestors to rot in space and crash to the homeworld like meteors. You destroyed my family once. I will not allow it to happen again. New Order will never be allowed on Amphir. You must find a new place to call home out among the stars. Return and meet Pronkus’ fate. ”

She turns, addressing the rest of the crowd. “If your Storm is not pure when you try to return, the nebula that guards our homeworld will tear it from you.”

Allele begins to fade as if she’s leaving the ship.

“Destroy her!” a king shouts.

Jovie pries herself from me, runs to Allele, slides to a stop beside her, ignites her shield, and protects the last Orillium as she portals out. The force of the kings’ onslaught of my beautiful female and her dedication to my people, causes a surge in me that I’ve never felt.

“You have created an unsanctioned heir?” the King of Luridia roars.

My Storm grows, lashing out like Jovie’s recently did as I run to her and draw her close, inside my Arkus shield. “I have never had an Oramma orb form with Queen Avarylis. I think this is why you all ban them, so no one will uncover your lies!”

And I think I have an idea of who my mother really is. She’s the one who doesn’t hesitate to touch me. The one who always feeds me when she sees me.

The one who worried when I left.

My Storm recognized hers even when I didn’t because I was taken from her when I was too young.

“Eph—”

My father fires an arc at me. I deflect it with one of my own.

“It is Ephinium, isn’t it?” I challenge.

He roars with anger. His Storm surges. It recognizes the name, and I think he hates that it does.

I curl around Jovie as a hand stretches out to me from the watching crowd.

The woman’s eyes blaze like mine. She pushes back the hood of her bloodied and charred cloak, a portal of gold light fading behind her, exposing the hangar with the Denarsoan ship.

She’s been here, fighting alongside us.

“Hello, my son.” Ephinium smiles with shaking lips like she’s so happy she might cry.

I take her hand, and our Storms merge in the air like a powerful, gently pulsing star.

Genesis members whisper. Even some Royal guards salute us.

Ephinium rests a hand on Jovie’s shoulder, making us a circle of Storm light so strong and steady that I feel like I’m being hugged by the sun. “And my daughter-by-bond.”

“He took me from you, didn’t he?” I ask.

“Yes. But I have always known where you were. That is the affinity of a Torchbearer’s Storm. We know where our family is so we can form a path for those who follow. Now, let me care for your mate while you end this. ”

Ephinium, my mother, as witnessed by all survivors in the plaza and viewers on the motherships far away, collects Jovie and guides her into the shelter of Fieri, Blaize, Talros, and Eluni.

Jorusk joins them, flipping a bloodied talon in the air. I think he’s won his battle. Now it’s time I win mine.

I turn to my father as our Oramma orb fades. “You and Avarylis couldn’t have children, could you? That’s why I have no siblings. So you found another way. You listened to your Storm and made me, then shoved Ephinium in a hole to die while Avarylis pretended to be my mother.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he defends.

“You abducted me from my home . I am descended from Torchbearers. Neither of you are. But Ephinium is.” I point back at her. “My Storm recognizes hers. You lied to me, but worse, to our people!”

His anger lights up as the crowd murmurs with distrust. He crackles, throwing arcs around him. “I was going to let you live. I hope you’re ready to die for them.”

It’s not easy to look my father in the eyes, knowing he is my father and that this may be the last time I see him.

But I remind myself of all the injustices my people have endured for the kings’ agendas.

It’s clear my father is the mastermind. “If dying is what it takes to ruin you and save them, I accept that sacrifice.”

Jovie strains in the arms of my mother. “Aura, no!”

I open my hands and let my Storm take over. Heat rises. Tingling energy surges in my bones. If he is alive, they are in danger.

And he has no idea how furious my Storm is, how long it has waited for this moment. With Jovie alive, my first child within her, and my mother watching my back, my purpose aligns. It coalesces my Storm.

He throws the first bolt. The other kings and Royals join in his effort to destroy me. I’m not surprised.

I take the assault but have to lean into it to hold my position. My Arkus shield holds.

“Aura!” The cry of my mate, Jovie’s sweet voice, fuels me.

“Shield!” I shout.

But her green light never comes. What I see instead is white light, angry hazel-green eyes, and my friends, my mother, Genesis, and converting Royals on our side, joining hands with each other, turning into a wall of Storm power.

Dampeners crackle and fail.

Talros gives someone a thumbs-up.

The masses unite their Storms into one wave.

As the tidal pulse rushes outward, I finally let every barrier and blockade fall.

Every reservation holding back my Storm drops.

I pull out memories of battle with the Vinym, Sol Federation, Helsvians, Thorians, Mindor, Denarso, Novarks, and Nebs and pair that pain and anger with the need to protect my people and my true family from the ruthless Royals.

I let it all out in one last arc I throw at my father.

I pray Gravion holds together. I doubt it has ever seen a Storm battle of this magnitude.

A wave of electric arcs floods the room. The air sizzles and fizzes. The ship is a flurry of lightning.

Merchant carts shatter. Lights burst. The ship blinks. Pillars paint with charred crags.

Many fall. Delegates. Guards. Elders. And Kings.

The plaza’s emergency lights kick on as loose bolts arc into oblivion. And there in the middle is my ruthless father.

He takes a knee.

The last look he gives me is indecipherable. It is a mix of pain, awe, and regret. Like he sees something he’s never seen before and wishes he was on the other side of this war.

In my heart I know it is only because he wants to win.

As he falls back, my surge sputters out. The Storm inside me softens to a calm almost sad undulating swirl. We have destroyed our father, a Storm we should love and cherish. And in this moment, I pity my father’s Storm for being stuck in his wretched body, burdened by his ideals.

At least, he will never threaten anyone ever again.

Emergency systems kick on. A familiar woman breaks away from her guards in a far corner of the plaza, pushes past Elders to a Rogue soldier who steps out from the battlefield and catches her like it’s been thirty years they’ve been apart.

Avarylis. I’m glad she’s finally happy.

I turn around, searching for Jovie. She runs two steps and jumps into my arms. Drawing in her scent, I memorize the softness of her against me.

She lightly punches me in the chest. “A Torchbearer ?” Jovie squints up at me. “Might have been good to know so I could’ve picked up some shades on the way!”

I grimace. “Sorry?”

Jovie’s irritation turns into a wince. “Is he…?”

Dead? “I think so.”

“So you’re free?”

“Give me a second?”

“Of course.” I set her down and walk up the platform steps to where my father lies, wishing I had used some restraint. I didn’t want to kill him, but he would never have stopped if I didn’t.

His servant, Wystor, with a burn mark across his chest and a split in his forehead, extends the crown to me. “It’s yours now.”

I take it in hand but don’t put it on. “I am not taking the throne. No single person ever will with Genesis. New Order can do whatever they want.”

“They better get off this ship before a whole lot of pissed-off Amps turn on them!” a Rogue soldier bellows, crushing the last Denarsoan soldier’s core with an electric fist. “Or we’ll eject them out an airlock with the rest of the enemy trash.”

I look at the Royals, still collecting themselves, and the bodies of dead Denarsoans around us.

Shouts in agreement circulate through the Genesis survivors, and it makes Royals begin portalling off Gravion.

Vybron steps forward. “Pilots and commanding officers have just teamed up to get the ships where the people want to go. Sort of a community consensus.”

“No crowns.” I hand my father’s to Jorusk. “Care to destroy this?”

“Pleasure, sir.” Jorusk melts and twists the crown, then holds the mangled mess in the air.

“Our planet and people are king. We decide our future!” I call out.

Commoners, soldiers, and a few Royals gone Rogue cheer. And finally, my people feel free.

I draw Jovie under an arm and rest a hand to her belly. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better with you back in my arms.” She draws me against her. “Now kiss me, you big hunk.”