Suddenly, the mate bond flared to life, my mates clearly noticing that I’d woken.
“Morning, Beauty.”Ronan’s voice brushed through my mind.“We’re out in the courtyard playing. They’ve been up since dawn.”
“Dawn?!”My eyes widened with surprise.
“Yeah,”he said, his laughter soft in the back of my mind.“You might want to brace yourself—they woke up with a plan in mind.”
And a plan crafted by two five-year-old boys was never a good one.
I smiled, shaking my head, not entirely surprised. The older the twins got, the more trouble they seemed capable of finding.
“This should be interesting,” I muttered, pushing the covers back and standing.
As I lifted my hands above my head, a stretch pulled through my shoulders—pleasant, but edged with the ache that came from yesterday’s training with Steele. I’d kept up the routine ever since our days in the Rebellion camp, though my body never failed to remind me that these men trained like the world might endagainat any second.
Not that I blamed them. Even after all these years, the memory of our bond and lives nearly extinguishing still haunted us. Only the warmth of our daily life was enough to push those thoughts aside and keep us grateful for the present.
I made my way across the room to draw back the thick curtains the rest of the way from the partly open balcony door, the wood floor glowing a deep honey color in the morning sunlight. We’d built our new home in the inner rings of Alfemir, one of the central places that had to be rebuilt after the war, a project that served as an open invitation for families who wanted to start over and turn the ruins into something of their own. Our property overlooked most of the city, perched high where the air was thin and crisp, and the sun seemed to touch every stone.
The outer walls were built from warm sandstone, trimmed with dark brown wood that caught the daylight. Three floors, because with our family of eight, we needed every bit of space we could get. Yet after everything we’d lived through, the ability to stretch and breathe, to exist without looking over our shoulders, still felt like the greatest luxury imaginable.
From where I stood, the wind carried the faint sounds of the city through the open balcony doors—cool and clean against my skin, tossing loose strands of my hair around.
Alfemir stretched wide and proudly beyond our home, the rooftops glinting gold where the sun struck their tiles. In the distance, the noise of morning activity carried through the air with the rise and fall of merchants’ voices from the market down the block and the echoing trills of wyverns that dotted the skies.
For a moment, I just stood there, leaning against the doorway, listening to the rhythm of it all—especially the laughter and conversation still drifting faintly up from the ground below.
There had been a time when peace felt like a myth, something we chased but never touched. Now, it was this: the hush of our morning unbroken except for our sons’ laughter.
Walking forward, I leaned over the railing and found them in the courtyard—two small figures with wings outstretched, spinning in chaotic circles around one another, thoughthankfullystill firmly on the ground.
Technically, I realized the boysprobablyhad one biological father, but while they were twins, they weren’t identical. I saw different pieces of all my mates in each of them and wondered if there wasn’t some unexplainable level of magic involved.
Xavier’s feathers were dark, nearly black but more of a deep purple, the edges catching the sun until they looked lit from within. He’d taken after Niz’s ivory complexion, but his hair was all Bastian—a white-silver that flashed an array of colors depending on his mood. His eyes were a rich hazel, the sameshade as Ronan’s, bright with mischief andsomuch emotion for someone his age. He was vibrant, fiery, and delightfully dramatic—a whirlwind all his own.
Sylo’s wings were pale white, and he’d inherited my golden hair, but his eyes were all Steele. His skin carried Gabe’s warm olive tone, a soft contrast to his snowy feathers. He was the gentler of the two, sweet to his core but far too serious for his age—always begging Niz to tell him more about Alfemir’s history through stories I wasn’t entirely sure were age-appropriate, considering the violence. Although to Niz’s credit, he’d figured out a way to gloss over most of that.
We had no idea what affinity either of them would possess, though I suspected they’d be different from one another. Xavier’s shifting hair already hinted at something Caster-born, though it was too early to tell for certain. They moved like opposites orbiting each other—the moon and the sun trying to share the same sky.
“Mom!” Sylo immediately saw me from above, his face lighting up with pure joy. “We’re trying to fly!”
“I see that,” I mused. “How’s it going?”
“Not good.” Xavier frowned, his small face scrunched in disappointment.
“I told them they couldn’t jump from anything high,” Ronan said, amusement coloring his voice, “so now they’re trying to run around each other fast enough to lift off the ground.” His expression was caught somewhere between confusion and awe at their determination. His wings were spread to either side but bent slightly, ready—just in case the twins somehow managed to defy gravity.
Gabe stood a few paces away beside Niz, the two of them deep in low, amused conversation as they watched the twins wrestle with their wings.
Steele knelt across the courtyard, studying a rune he’d etched into the ground. I smirked to myself—something told me he was planning to ward the airspace around the house in case the twins actually figured out flying.
My Rune Maker looked tired, the kind of weary that came from staying up too late. He’d made the trip down to the old Rebellion camp yesterday to check in with the council but hadn’t returned until late last night.
The Rebellion camp still existed, though not as it once had. What had once been a fortress born of desperation had become a thriving city on Earth. Many of the Rebellion members hadn’t felt comfortable moving back to Alfemir right away, so we’d worked to include them in our both plans moving forward and newly established trade routes, hopeful to ease the transition. Amelia spent most of her time there now, keeping plans on track, but we tried to visit at least once a month.
When we did go without our entire family, we never went alone—a wartime habit that meant if Steele was back, so was Bastian, since he liked to check on his blood barrier to protect them.
Suddenly, Xavier’s voice pulled me back to the present as he shouted something about being ready and nearly collided with his brother mid-jump. Both of them went down in a flurry of feathers and laughter.
