Reverie slept between her men with Tanya, Razor, and Malik, Chloe, and her men arranged like wolves guarding a queen.
Like Aegisworn.
Her parents slept curled together, trusting Mira, Pantar, and the Varruk to keep watch.
Unfortunately for them, I had an ability that none could withstand, not even a Fellat or a Varruk.
I exhaled.
Then let the ability loose.
It spread outward like a dark mist—soundless, formless, a psychic hand closing over their minds.
Unconsciousness rippled through the camp.
They all succumbed except Oren, who tried to fight it, shadows curling around him like claws and sparks coming to his fingers, recognizing what it was too late. He managed to whisper. “Rev—. And then dropped.
I almost admired the big bastard. Maybe if things had been different, we could have been friends.
I stepped into their sleeping ring.
Reverie’s breathing hitched—she felt me even unconscious.
Her mark glowed faintly under her shirt, broken crown pulsing like a heartbeat.
Mine answered.
Violently.
I knelt beside her.
“Reverie,” I whispered. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”
She didn’t wake?—
My ability held too tightly—but her fingers twitched toward me, as if her soul knew mine.
Tanya stirred beside her, brow furrowing. She wasn’t strong enough to break free… but she resisted.
Good. I respected her more knowing she was a fighter.
Razor and Malik had the same faint tension—warriors with instincts too sharp to succumb fully.
I brushed a hand above their foreheads. “Sleep,” I commanded.
And they obeyed.
I slipped my arms under Reverie and lifted her against my chest. Her long dark hair spilled down my arm and onto the ground like ink.
She felt… right.
Too right.
A centuries-old ache softened in my ribs?—
Kratos reaching across time,
Torren whispering “mine”,
