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I t was already evening. The moon lit up the pathway for Maris and the escaping Sealians. They left in time to make it to the abandoned village, hours away from their destination. She had decided it would be wise for everyone to rest up before traveling the last miles to the formations. The people who lived there had long since left.

Melvian hadn’t stopped complaining the entire ride. She moaned about her aching body and how much she hated lying on the wagon’s hard floor. She insisted she could ride a horse just fine, but once Isen got serious, she decided that curling up with her babies in the wagon wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

She argued with Maris, asking her why she hadn’t come back to ask for help when Kenna arrived, and how Maris being alive was a miracle that might not repeat itself.

Maris ignored her best friend’s scowl as she jumped off the horse, walked inside the cabin, and dropped a large bag of clothes near the makeshift bed.

“You and the babies need to rest,” Isen mumbled as he untangled a heavy cloth from Melvian’s body and exposed her to the chilly night air.

Maris walked around the cabin, acting as if she wasn’t hearing the interaction between the two lovers.

“I know that! But I can’t wrap my head around the fact that this woman—” she pointed at Maris. “Faced Kenna alone!”

“She did, and she won.” Isen sneered before taking his baby daughter in his arms. “We need to celebrate, don’t we, Ciel?” He smiled down at the baby, kissed her tiny forehead, and turned back to Melvian.

Maris’s heart leaped at the name. They had already named their kids. Her curiosity piqued with the baby boy’s name. She watched from the inside of the cabin as Melvian stood from the wagon, and with Isen’s help, descended to the ground. Her friend’s strength took her aback. Any other woman would’ve taken days to recuperate after birthing twins. Melvian only took a couple of hours.

“Oh, we will celebrate,” Melvian said, snuggling close to Isen and unfolding the cloth she used to cover her baby boy. She pressed her lips to his dark locks and inhaled. “Struan probably wants a meal after all this ordeal.”

Isen laughed and guided Melvian inside and up to the bed. “We can do whatever you wish, but first you need to rest,” he ordered, using his free arm to usher Melvian to lie on the bed while Maris watched. His gaze shifted from his mate to Maris, who gave him a tired smile. “You should also rest.”

“I am fine.”

“When you arrived at the inn, you looked like a burnt casabe,” Isen said, arching a brow at Maris.

“I need to make sure everyone settles down.”

“They will. They are Sealians, they are resilient, and this whole settling down thing is their specialty.” He chuckled and turned to Melvian, who was undoing the top of her blouse.

“We need to be quiet and careful,” Maris whispered as she touched her wrapped-up shoulder.

Isen nodded. “Rest, Your Highness. We all need rest. Even those blessed by the gods.”

The Sealian water helped with her injuries, but the tiredness of using her gift for such an extended period, and in such a powerful way, still dragged her down. She was weak, and even if she wouldn’t admit it, she needed to rest. Walking to the other side of the cabin, Maris sat on the ground and leaned her head against the broken wooden wall. Her eyes drifted shut until she heard Isen and Melvian talking again.

“He is a hungry one,” Isen muttered.

Maris opened her eyes as Isen turned to Melvian, who had settled on the broken-down bed with her son. Isen grinned, walked to her side, and somehow fit his formidable form on the small bed. Although he was shoulder to shoulder with his mate, he looked the most comfortable out of everyone inside the rundown home.

Isen petted his son’s hair as Struan snuggled to Melvian’s breast.

“Reminds me of someone.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. He is just like his daddy. He doesn’t know when to stop.” Melvian chuckled before letting out a tired sigh, leaning her back against the headrest and closing her eyes.

“It is amazing how we can already see their personalities shining through.” His adoring eyes fell upon his daughter, Ciel, who slept in his protective embrace. “This one loves to sleep every chance she gets. Just like her mother.”

Melvian arched her brow and opened one eye to look at Isen. “I think that also applies to you.”

Melvian feigned being mad at Isen just as Struan yawed. She dragged him from her breast and traded with Isen. Ciel woke up, fussing at being moved, her honey eyes opening and shining under the light of the moon filtering through broken wooden panels.

Like his sister, Struan opened his eyes. He raised his tiny fists, demanding his mother’s warmth and comfortable touch.

“She is busy,” Isen whispered, undoing a couple of buttons from his shirt, and laying his son face down over the exposed skin of his chest. It wasn’t long before Isen snuggled the baby’s chubby cheek, humming, so the vibrations of his voice lulled the baby boy to sleep.

“I see you read my notes…” Melvian said, her voice a soft hush, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the cabin.

“Skin-to-skin contact makes the connection between parents stronger,” Isen recited, his eyes sparkling with a peculiar playful glint.

The corner of Melvian’s lip twitched as she snuggled to her mate, holding her girl closer.

Maris watched the interaction quietly, acting as if she was asleep. At some point she felt she shouldn’t be welcomed in the quiet moment, but neither Isen nor Melvian told her to leave, so she stayed, and watched on.

“You are worried about something,” Isen said, peering from his son to Melvian. “What is it?”

Melvian took a deep breath and bit her lower lip before talking. “I can’t wait for all of this to be over.”

Isen’s gaze fluttered over her frown. He nodded. “Me too…” Wrapping his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her in.

“When all of this is over, are we going to stay in the Sea Kingdom?

Isen arched his brow. “You want to stay there?”

Melvian nodded. “Yes. I want to see the bridges, and beaches, the oceans…”

“There is not a lot to see, Melvian.”

“There is not much to see now, but I still want to see it. I want them to see it.”

Isen bit his cheek and looked at Ciel first and then at Struan.

“Please…” Melvian whispered. “They deserve to know where they came from.”

Inhaling, he nodded and rested his head on top of Melvian’s. “One day, I promise…”

***

It was the silence of the night that Maris dreaded. There were no animal calls, no wind, nothing. The candle inside the cabin was dim. She knew better than to keep it lit. These houses were supposed to be abandoned. If she was an enemy soldier and saw light coming from them, she would’ve headed out to investigate.

Valda’s voice resonated in her mind. Stay vigilant. Run at the first sign of danger. Please.

After her stroll through their makeshift camp, Maris had made it back to the cabin.

The walk was supposed to clear her head. She had survived a fight with the epitome of war and destruction, and yet she felt like she was failing everyone and had nothing to show for it. Just wagons for them to move, roads for them to walk, dirty, destroyed cabins for them to call home for a short while before they headed to the formations, to then head to a destroyed kingdom. Who would even call it home?

What was she doing? Was she making their lives any easier?

Would they be better off if Eyphah had stayed as their leader?

Maris swallowed hard. Eyphah . They had left Titania, and no one knew of her whereabouts. Maris was worried about her and wondered if either Vulcanians or Arwin’s men had ambushed her.

Shuddering in a sigh, Maris pushed the door of the cabin and noticed Melvian sleeping with Ciel in her arms. Next to her, a tired Isen held Struan. The baby was also sleeping, yet Isen couldn’t help but look down at his son as if he was a miracle. And he was. The twins were a miracle …

Maris walked to Melvian, her eyes locked with the baby in her arms. Blue fuzz covered the girl’s hair as a small, tan hand gripped her mother’s shirt. Melvian had fallen asleep breastfeeding her, and Maris wasn’t sure if she should move the baby and help Melvian get in a comfortable position or let them be.

Isen’s voice broke her worry as the large man leaned over his mate. Now, with both children in his arms, he sat down on the floor by the side of the bed.

“I thought you were resting.”

“Isen. You need to rest too,” Maris whispered, not wanting to be heard. The enemy could be out there, either as a traitorous Skylian, or an angry Vulcanian, demanding vengeance for their assassinated king.

Isen shook his head, strands of his blue hair falling from the ties. “Let me, please,” he whispered back. “Let me be with them.” Ciel fussed, her tiny hands grabbing at nothing. Isen chuckled, proud, pressing his lips to his daughter’s wandering fingers.

Maris sat down next to him, hugged her knees to her chest and leaned her head back against the broken-down bed where Melvian slept. As darkness crept over her, engulfing her tired mind, Isen’s velvety voice pulled her back.

Maris opened her eyes and turned to the captain. He was singing to his children what appeared to be a lullaby.

The shanty poured from him, his voice sweet, masculine, yet comforting. It was a love song about a fisherman and his wife. It was a Sealian lullaby, a song that maybe her birth mother, the Queen, sang to Maris when she was a baby. Maris swallowed hard, her throat contracting as she held in a sob.

The song told how the ocean fell in love with the fisherman’s wife and separated them. The wife waited for her husband to return, but he never did. She turned into a salt rock near the shore. And so they said that when the sea was rough, the fisherman was fighting to return to his wife…

Isen turned to Maris; his tired yet handsome face was the definition of pride. His chest puffed with love and adoration, not only for his children but for his mate, and finally, his queen…

His queen.

Maris covered her face with her dirty hands, drowning her silent sobs. “Please forgive me, Isen,” she whispered.

Isen frowned. “For what? ”

“For everything. I will fix this. I will take you back. We will rebuild.” Her desperation made her choke on her words. And she pressed her face to her arms, crossed over her knees, ashamed of herself. “I am not the leader you deserve, Isen.”

The man smiled and nudged her with his shoulder. “My queen,” he murmured. “Please, look at me.”

She did, only for him to place Struan in her arms.

Maris held her breath as she cradled the infant, worried that she might drop him . How were babies so small? Maris sighed, looked down at the black hair on his head, and sobbed louder.

“This is the future, Your Highness,” Isen said, pressing his shoulder to Maris, looking down at the sleeping infant in her arms. “You will protect it, I know it.” He turned his attention to Ciel and smiled. “We have already changed things. One race born out of pure unadulterated love.” His grin widened as he held his child closer. “What more could you possibly ask for?”

Maris turned from looking at the baby boy to Isen and back again. These children... They were both Sealian and Skylian. They bore the characteristics of both kingdoms on their skin, and Maris couldn’t help but feel protective over them. She pressed her lips over Struan’s forehead and cuddled to Isen, looking for nothing more than to be warm until dawn. The large man didn’t react when she rested her head on his shoulder.

She would protect their future. She would rebuild the Sea Kingdom. She would take her rightful place as queen, even if she died trying.