Page 39 of Stars in Umbra (The Sable Riders #8)

Twin Blades And A Serpent

MOLAN

M o fell in love with Rina’s parents.

It was inevitable.

Hanna was warmth incarnate, a woman who wrapped you in affection.

From her touch, to her generous plates of food, and a lilting laugh that softened the edges of a man like him.

Reth was the embodiment of quiet strength and easy wisdom that Mo appreciated.

The older man had an air about him, the kind of stillness that only came from living close to the land and choosing peace over noise.

Being around the mature man unlocked a deep ache in Mo’s chest.

A sense that this was what he had missed his whole life: a father’s steady hand on the shoulder, a voice of reason, someone who could teach him without needing to command him.

Their property, too, seemed to have been conjured out of a dream.

Horses in the pastures, the scent of wood smoke curling up from the chimneys.

Its gardens were rich with citrus and vegetables, and the rambling house was always scented with accents of cinnamon, rosemary, and fresh bread.

The fire crackled with inviting warmth, and the windows caught the golden light just right.

Even the stonework felt solid underfoot, and the wood beams overhead gave the home a spine of lived-in beauty.

He’d also eaten so well.

Every meal was a revelation.

Fresh-churned butter slathered on crusty buns still steaming from the oven.

Sharp cheeses paired with slices of sun-dried tomato.

Slow-cooked stews and fragrant herb roasts that made his eyes close in gratitude.

The food wasn’t just nourishment; it was care, memory, and tradition.

Later that night, the four of them sat in the family room, coffee mugs in hand, a creamy custard dessert cooling on the table between them.

Rina tucked her feet under her on the sofa beside Mo, her head resting on his shoulder.

Hanna curled into her armchair, her knitting forgotten in her lap.

Reth turned the conversation toward farming and climate patterns, sharing quiet insights about soil, weather cycles, livestock, and what made rich compost.

Mo, listening with half-lidded eyes, found his thoughts drifting.

Perhaps when the shitshow of his current reality was over, when he no longer had a freakin’ mysterious entity threatening to erase his life, he’d consider a life like this.

Maybe with Rina.

That thought took root with more savagery than he expected.

He imagined a different version of himself, as a man no longer hunted, controlled, or a ghost.

His mind wandered to his hopes for a quieter life in the future. He envisioned children, laughter, joy, and Rina at the center of it all.

Holidays spent at this farm, with Mo swinging one of the kids onto a horse, teaching them the names of stars.

A warm kitchen, full bellies, and a hand in his that never let go.

This place, this life, was not some faraway fantasy on a distant planet.

It was here. On Dunia. Within reach.

Though he’d never had much in the way of hope in the past, this moment cracked open a door of longing in him.

He glanced around the room again, at the firelight flickering against the stone. At the woman he was falling for beside him, at the kindness in the faces of two people who welcomed him like a son.

Maybe this wasn’t just a pause between battles.

Perhaps it was the beginning of peace, for a lifetime.

That night, when the woodland outside was quiet, Mo and Rina went to bed together.

Hanna and Reth had long since retired to the far wing of the farmhouse.

Mo claimed his woman with raw passion as moonlight spilled through the vast glass facade.

Silvering the edges of their bodies, pooling over the sheets like another layer of skin.

Beyond the fields in the darkness, the dark sweep of the lake heaved against the cliffs, the jungle canopy shivering under the wind’s breath.

Propped on his elbows and thrusting into her, Mo kissed her as though he were anchoring himself to the world.

He savored her lips and the remnants of salt and wine on them. Her hair spilling over the pillow like a midnight banner.

His hands glided over her, his mouth worshiping her.

She responded with her brand of ferocity he adored and craved, pulling him closer, matching his fierce strokes with her own, her fingers curling into the planes of his back.

That had only amped up his reverence, with the need to anchor her, to claim her soul the only way he knew how.

His cock swelled harder than ever before as he drove into her with abandon.

She moaned, her pussy rippling around his length, her hands and legs encircling him as their lips locked in passionate lovemaking.

With a groan, he blew, thick strands of cum jetting into her core, his sigils pulsing with light as she shuddered beneath him.

When they finally stilled, Mo lay tangled in the sheets with Rina, her body curved against his, their sweat still cooling between them.

She rested her cheek over his heart and traced the curve of an old scar with her fingertip.

The room was quiet except for their shared breaths, hers slowing into a near-doze, his still caught in the aching tenderness that always followed her touch.

He tightened his arms around her, pressing his lips to her temple as night kept watch, holding them in a suspended, perfect silence.

He thought about his past, the blood on his hands, the faces that would haunt him forever.

Yet here she was, choosing him, even knowing all of it. That knowledge burned through him like a promise.

He shifted, and she held onto him tighter with a small moan.

‘You OK?’ he rumbled.

‘It’s cold and you’re too warm to let go.’

He chuckled. ‘Careful, mi kaya ,’ he murmured into her hair, ‘keep talking like that and I might never leave this bed.’

Her smile curved up. ‘Oh, I wasn’t referring to tonight. I meant for the rest of your natural life.’

‘ Fokk yeah.’ He grunted in approval, pulling her even closer.

She smiled against his chest, her pulse slowing and becoming even. She turned her back to him and, after a few quiet breaths, slipped into a light doze beside him.

Mo stayed awake.

Words rose, unbidden, from some marrow-deep place.

‘Kai ne masoyina na har abada.’

Seconds later, its meaning parsed through his mind.

You are my forever love.

Echoing the sentiment throbbing through his heart, the runes on his arms shimmered in the darkness, alive with residual power.

Yet it wasn’t his markings that disturbed him.

It was hers.

He’d caught a glimmer. As she curled against him, her bare skin brushing his, he saw a flicker across her belly.

It was subtle, but unmistakable. A soft lattice of light below her dermis, in a runic pattern that was not human in the least.

His brow furrowed.

What the hell was it? A side effect of their bond? A dormant potency within her? A mark left by him?

His heart ticked faster, unease coiling in his belly.

Rina stirred and whispered in a breathy hush, ‘Sleep, baby.’

So he did, eventually.

But even as slumber dragged him under, a thread of worry sat curled in the far corners of his mind, a quiet pulse of dread.

A force was awakening between them, and it wasn’t just their shared passion; it was more.

RINA

The next morning, the soft dawn air filled with the scents of fresh-cut citrus and steaming tea.

Rina stood in the kitchen, helping Hanna slice oranges for breakfast, in shared domestic calm.

Reth was in the barn feeding the livestock, and Mo was still in bed, a rare indulgence she was happy to allow as he continued to recuperate.

A hum from a descending flyer stirred the quiet.

Rina glanced up from the cutting board and stepped onto the veranda.

She peered up just as Mirage’s sleek, cobalt Corvette touched down with polished precision in the paddock beyond the citrus grove.

The Rider’s synth AI emerged from the ship, her form familiar in a jumpsuit of matte leather, her long braid bouncing against the sequined back of her bomber jacket.

She swept onto the terrace in a gust of expensive perfume and a clack of her high heels.

‘Hey, you,’ Rina welcomed her.

‘Had your breakfast?’ Mirage asked with zero preamble, her expression far more serious than usual.

‘ Nada ,’ Rina replied, arching a brow. ‘Will I need it to cope?’

Mirage gave her a tight smile and a shrug of her elegant shoulders. ‘Perhaps.’

Sensing the gravity of the situation, Rina moved back inside and poured a steaming mug of bitter brew for herself while Mirage greeted Hanna.

Minutes later, Rina led Mirage into her parents’ study.

With a flick of her wrist, the Sable AI unfolded a holo-map from her comm tab.

‘I tracked the signal from the neural node controller we extracted from Mo’s head,’ Mirage said, her voice dropping to a clipped, clinical tone. ‘Its last embedded directive came from here.’

She tapped the glowing projection, and a cold, mountainous terrain unfurled, revealing jagged ridge lines, a dense thicket of pines, and a scarcely visible structure nestled between two ice-carved peaks.

‘The Thrall Estate,’ Mirage confirmed. ‘It’s located deep in the Trossachs Mountains on the eastern continent. It is off-grid, cloaked, and freakin’ fortified.’

Rina crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. ‘Owned by?’

‘Caidan Thrall,’ Mirage answered, her fingers flicking to reveal a dizzying spiderweb of shell corporations and encrypted transfers.

‘He’s a Rhesian industrialist who also dabbles as an ultra-conservative sponsor of hard-line politicians.

You know the war-mongering type. Rumors have it that he’s behind the unrest in Alloria and Falasia.

He’s secretive, filthy rich, and dirty as fokk .

His pile was paid for through a series of offshore accounts and straw holders, but it all traces back to him. ’

‘Why him?’ Rina asked, her mind racing.