“Yes—Takhiss—right there—don’t stop?—”
“Never,” I snarl. “You’re mine.”
Her back arches. Her scream rips through the room as she comes—shaking, breathless, perfect.
I follow with a roar. Heat floods into her as I bury myself to the hilt, every muscle locking tight. The bond flares between us,jalshagarburning so bright I feel like I’ll come apart.
When it ends, I don’t pull away. I rest against her, both of us slick with sweat.
She kisses my neck, still trembling. “You... fuck. That was...”
I chuckle. “We’re not done.”
Her eyes spark. “Good.”
Later that night, as we lie together, Vex stirs in his cot. A soft whimper. I rise, gently, tuck him back in.
When I crawl back into bed, Ella’s already smiling in the dark.
“You’re good with him,” she whispers.
I brush hair from her face. “He makes it easy.”
“Still. You’re different now. Softer.”
I shrug. “Still sharp where it counts.”
“I know,” she teases. “I have bruises.”
We laugh. Quiet, sleepy, sated.
And when sleep takes us, it does so gently.
Outside, the world waits. The stars wheel overhead.
But inside? We are firelight and breath and belonging.
We are just us.
CHAPTER 50
ELLA
It starts in the greenhouse.
I’m kneeling by the kale trough, checking nutrient flow, when the smell of wet soil and mineral water hits me too hard. The edges of my vision blur, and before I can even process it, I’m on my knees, heaving into the compost basin. My stomach twists once, twice, then stills.
For a long moment, I just kneel there. The world keeps moving like it doesn’t know mine just tilted.
And I do know. I know it the way you know thunder’s coming before you hear it.
My hands shake as I clean up. I open the little medkit on the counter. I take the test, fingers trembling.
The little strip flashes pink. Then blue.
My heart stutters.
I sit on the lid for a long time. The world doesn’t change. The sun still glows through the frosted window.
