As I drifted toward sleep, surrounded by warmth and love and the steady pulse of the bonds, I felt a deep, contented purr rumble through my chest. The heat was over. I had survived—no, I had thrived. I had been claimed by four alphas, bonded to four souls, loved by four hearts that now beat in time with mine.
This was only the beginning of forever.
Chapter Thirty-Four
LILY
I woke to the sensation of fingers in my hair. Not tugging or pulling—just gentle touches, stroking through the tangled mess that days of heat had created. The braids the sirens had so carefully woven were ruined now, loosened and matted, strands escaping in every direction.
"It's time," Kaelan's voice rumbled from somewhere above me. "Now that the heat has passed, we need to rebraid your hair." I blinked my eyes open, finding myself still in the main nest, surrounded by all four of my mates. The bonds hummed contentedly in my mind—four distinct presences, each one precious, each one mine.
"Rebraid?" I asked, still sleep-soft and warm.
"The braids we gave you before were... temporary." Thane's voice came from my left, his golden scales catching the soft light. "Courtship braids. Meant to show our intent, to mark you as claimed."
"Now you are truly ours," Vale added, his musical voice warm with satisfaction. "Bonded. Mated. Forever tied to us through marks and heat and soul-deep connection."
Riven's rough voice completed the explanation. "Now we braid you properly. With treasures. With pieces of ourselves woven into your hair, so that anyone who sees you will know exactly who you belong to."
Something warm unfurled in my chest. "Treasures?"
Kaelan's hand cupped my cheek, turning my face toward his. His dark eyes were soft, tender in a way I rarely saw from the pack's stern leader. "Every siren has a hoard—treasures collected over centuries, precious things we guard jealously. When we take a mate, we choose pieces from our hoards to weave into their hair. It's..." He paused, searching for words. "It's giving you pieces of our souls. Trusting you with what matters most to us."
"We couldn't do it before," Thane said quietly. "Not during the heat. You needed to be clear-headed, able to truly accept what we were offering. And we needed time to choose the right treasures."
I sat up slowly, looking at each of them in turn. Through the bonds, I could feel their anticipation—and beneath it, a thread of vulnerability. This mattered to them. This was important in ways I was only beginning to understand.
"Show me," I said softly. "Show me what you've chosen." Kaelan moved first, reaching into a pouch I hadn't noticed at his side. What he withdrew made my breath catch. A small stone, no bigger than my thumbnail—but a stone that seemed to hold the night sky within it. Black as the deepest ocean, flecked with points of light like stars.
"This was my mother's," Kaelan said, his voice rough with emotion. "She died when I was young—centuries ago now. She was beautiful, fierce, the heart of our pod." His fingers traced thestone's surface. "When she passed, my father gave me this. The only thing of hers I have left."
Tears pricked at my eyes. "Kaelan..."
"The stone is from the deepest trench in the ocean—where the water is so dark that light has never touched it. But if you look closely..." He tilted it, and I saw what he meant. The dark stone was scattered with tiny points of light, like a piece of the night sky had been captured within. "Stars. Even in the darkest depths, there are stars. She used to tell me that—that no matter how dark things seemed, there was always light to be found."
He pressed the stone into my hands, and I felt the weight of centuries, the weight of love and loss and hope.
"I want you to carry that with you," he said quietly. "That reminder. That even in darkness, there is light. That you are my light, Lily. The stars I've been searching for across centuries of darkness." I couldn't speak. Could only clutch the stone to my chest and nod, tears spilling down my cheeks.
Vale moved next, and what he withdrew was so delicate I almost missed it—a series of tiny chimes, each one smaller than my pinky nail, strung on threads so fine they were nearly invisible.
"Sound catchers," he explained, his voice soft with reverence. "I made them myself, centuries ago, when I first began to understand my gift for music. Each one is tuned to a different note." He held them up, and even the slight movement of his hand made them sing—a cascade of tiny, crystalline notes that seemed to hang in the air like stars. "When you move, they'll make music. A song only you can create, unique to the way you move through the world."
He reached into his pouch again and withdrew a second treasure—a tiny bead, no larger than a pearl, but made of something that shifted colors as it caught the light. Blue, green, purple, silver—it was like holding a piece of the ocean itself.
"This is crystallized song," Vale said, and I could hear the awe in his own voice. "It takes centuries to form—the echo of siren songs building up in certain caves until the sound itself becomes solid. This piece contains the first song I ever composed. A song about longing, about waiting, about hoping that somewhere in the world, my mate existed." He pressed it into my palm, and for just a moment, I could have sworn I heard music—faint and far away, achingly beautiful.
"You were the answer to that song," Vale whispered. "And now you'll carry it with you always."
Riven's offering was next, and it was so different from the others that I almost laughed—except for the fierce vulnerability I could feel through the bond. A shard of black bone, polished smooth, small enough to nestle in my palm. It gleamed like obsidian in the dim light.
"From the first enemy I ever killed," Riven said bluntly. "A sea serpent, three times the size of this cave. It was attacking our territory, and I was young—barely past my first century. Everyone said I was too young, too inexperienced, that I would die."
His scarred fingers traced the shard's edge. "I killed it anyway. Took this piece as proof. It was the first time I understood what I was—a protector. A killer. Someone who would do whatever it took to keep my pack safe." He reached into his pouch again and withdrew something that made my eyes widen—a tiny stone that seemed to glow with inner fire. Red and orange and gold, like captured flames, set into a small clasp meant for braiding.
"And this," he said, his voice dropping even lower, "is something I've kept for centuries. When I was young and foolish." He gestured at his scarred face, his massive form. "I was going to give it to someone. A female in our pod. I thought I loved her."
He pressed both pieces into my palm, and the fire-stone was warm—warmer than it should have been, as if the flames inside were real.
