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"No," he agreed easily. "You were a right bastard for a few centuries there. Insufferable, really."

I snorted. "Only a few?"

His reflection smiled in the glass beside mine, the family resemblance suddenly striking despite our different fathers. "You've improved marginally in recent decades. I'd say you're almost tolerable now."

We stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching the gardens below. One of my hellhounds prowled the perimeter, its massive form casting an even larger shadow. The beast paused, nose lifting to scent the air, before continuing its vigilant circuit.

"I've been thinking about Father," I admitted finally, the words falling between us like stones into still water.

Callum nodded. "I thought you might be. This situation with the Shadow Beast... it brings back memories."

"Do you remember that day?" I watched him from the corner of my eye, curious about his perspective, wondering if his memories aligned with mine or if time and youth had altered them.

"Parts of it. I was young. I remember Mother crying. I remember Maxiun carrying me through the shadow paths because I was too upset to walk properly. I was terrified." His voice softened. "I remember looking back for you as we left. I didn't understand why you weren't coming with us."

I turned to look at him directly. "I blamed you both for leaving. For a long time. I believed you had chosen Maxiun over me, over Father's memory." The admission cost me something, a pride I'd held onto for too long.

"I know." His eyes, so like our mother's, held no judgment. "And I blamed you for not coming with us. For choosing the Underworld over family. For shutting me out when I needed my big brother most."

"I didn't see it as a choice.” The justification sounded hollow, even to my own ears. "This realm needed a ruler."

"And you needed your family," he countered, not unkindly. "But we were all too stubborn and hurt to see that clearly. Too caught in our own grief to recognize the grief in others."

I couldn't argue with that. The truth of it resonated through years of miscommunication and missed opportunities. "It seems we've been given a second chance."

"Through Sierra," he agreed. "And Archer. The fates have a strange sense of humor."

"An unlikely quartet." The corner of my mouth twitched upward.

Callum laughed, the sound warming the cool air between us. "The fates works in mysterious ways. Three men, one woman. Who would have guessed?"

I shook my head, still marveling at how things had unfolded. "If someone had told me months ago that I'd be reconciling with my brother over a shared mate..."

"You'd have eviscerated them on the spot," Callum finished for me. "Slowly, with considerable creativity."

"Precisely."

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, the weight of it familiar and strange simultaneously. "Well, I'm glad you didn't eviscerate me when I showed up with Sierra. Though I saw you consider it."

"It was a near thing," I admitted. "You always did have impeccable timing."

"I know." His expression grew more serious, the levity fading from his eyes. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for all the wasted years. We should have found a way to move past it sooner. Mother tried?—"

"I know she did," I cut him off, unwilling to revisit those particular failures just yet. "And I wasn't ready to listen."

I nodded, the weight of old grief and new understanding settling between us like a physical presence. "Better late than never, I suppose."

"Speaking of which," Callum said, straightening up, the moment passing naturally, "it's time for dinner. Sierra's been in the kitchen with Archer all afternoon, apparently creating some human dish she insists we all need to try. Something called lasagna, I believe?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Archer? In the kitchen?

" The image of my deadly, disciplined second-in-command engaged in domestic activities was difficult to reconcile.

Baffling, but I'd take it over him basically barricading himself in the library with that fucking book.

"I didn't think he knew how to use a spoon, let alone cook. "

"I know." Callum grinned, his amusement infectious.

"I've been told there was an incident with the flour that will require extensive cleaning, but they seem quite proud of whatever they've concocted.

Sierra was covered in tomato sauce when I passed by, and Archer had flour in his hair.

" He paused. "He didn't seem to mind, which was perhaps the most surprising part. "

The image of my normally pristine second-in-command covered in flour while Sierra laughed was enough to lift my mood considerably. It was a vast improvement over him brooding and consumed with books in the library.

"We'd better not keep them waiting, then. I'm curious to see what culinary disaster awaits us."

As we walked through the corridors of my palace, the obsidian walls reflecting our forms like dark mirrors, I found myself grateful for this unexpected turn my life had taken.

Each step we took seemed to erase a small portion of the distance that had grown between us over centuries.

The threat of the Shadow Beast still loomed, the prophecy still hung over our heads like a sword, but for now, I had this.

Brother regained, a mate who filled my days with light, and a family pieced together from the most unlikely parts.

Whatever came next, we would face it together.

And that made all the difference in a world where I had ruled alone for far too long.