I looked inward and found a slow, steady burn in my chest where the heat no longer scorched, but thrummed comfortably. A pulse that felt like a tether had formed between me and the sky above, to guide me to where my star needed to be.
The star inside me didn’t burn or thrash. It rested there, patient and waiting.
My fingers drifted to the spot just above my heart, where Steele’s rune still glowed faintly beneath my skin, a ghost of his love etched into flesh. I traced the lines with reverence, the warmth of it settling deeper into my chest like an anchor.
This last star wasn't a burden. It was mine to place and set free. To tend to until the next Star Keeper came to relieve me of the duty.
I sat up slowly and each easy inhale felt like a miracle. I looked over at the Creator, still luminous from her own glowing power and in the starlight she had returned to the sky. A quiet, persistent question rolled around in my head.
“What about the other stars without a Keeper?” I asked softly, my voice steady for the first time in what felt like weeks. “Who’s going to tend to them now?”
“I’m awake now,” she answered, and something about the gentle, almost wistful way she said that made my heart throb with warmth. “I will tend to them. I will remain present, and allow time for natural births of more Star Keepers. No more will the burden be forced onto one angel alone.”
A long silence settled over the courtyard as the Creator stood and clasped her hands gently in front of her, bowing her head.
“I owe you—and all those who’ve been lost to the violence of the upper triads—my deepest apologies.”
The breath caught in my chest. Around me, my mates stiffened, the world itself holding still at the weight of the Creator apologizing tous.
“I may be your Creator,” she continued, “but even I am not perfect. I made a grave mistake in where I placed my trust…and in the power I allowed to flourish unchecked. I will spend eternity now working to correct that and ensuring it never happens again.”
None of us moved. None of us spoke. Even Bash, who always had a clever line tucked behind his teeth, seemed stunned into silence.
She smiled at our speechlessness, a soundless chuckle rising in her chest.
“You are stunned,” she said, amusement dancing in her tone. “But I looked back on all that transpired before joining you here. I watched the weight of survival on your shoulders, and now I will continue to watch over you all. I have a feeling that evenwithout the powers of a deity within you, you will continue to shape this world with your hearts.”
The laughter faded from her lips, but the smile remained. She began to rise into the sky, drifting slowly toward the stars.
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat as she whispered, “Rest now. Your duty is done.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks without permission as her form began to dissolve back into the stars above. It seemed almost impossible that all of our fighting and planning was simply done. The weight of that relief crashed through me as my shoulders shook with the weight of my sobs.
One by one, my mates came to me.
Arms folded around my waist from behind, strong and steady, and I knew it was Steele by the way his chest pressed to my spine, anchoring me to this moment. To my right, Ronan and Niz stood side by side. Ronan’s hand was warm on my cheek, his forehead brushing mine in a silent promise that we were still here. Beside him, Niz reached out to squeeze my hand, the tremor in his touch—the reverence of it—saying everything words could not. Bastian curled around my other side, one hand threading with mine and the other pressed flat to my back as though grounding both of us in our bodies again. Gabe stood in front of me, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders, his presence a steady pulse through the bond, solid and unshakable.
My circle was complete. Whole.
Ronan’s lips brushed the crown of my head. “What now?” he asked softly, voice barely more than a whisper carried in the wind.
I turned, just enough to look at each of them as they stepped back. My chest squeezed with the answer that once upon a time I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to give them.
“I think,” I said shakily, my throat thick with emotion, “that we get to spend the rest of forever figuring that out now.” I smiled, tears blurring the world again. “Finally.”
EPILOGUE
KIERAN
Eight years later…
Soft,golden trails of light spilled across our bedroom floor, slipping out from between the heavy curtains that framed the balcony doors. A gentle breeze drifted in, carrying laughter woven with the low hum of familiar voices from the courtyard below.
I blinked against the light, still buried in blankets and pillows, and knew instantly it was later than normal—at least midmorning, possibly closer to noon. Which meant I should’ve been up hours ago. Rolling over, I found the other side of the bed empty, the sheets no longer warm from where Gabe had been lying beside me when we fell asleep.
Why had no one woken me yet?
I wasn’t complaining…the twins almost never let us sleep in, but itwasunusual.
