“I chose,” I add, my voice steady despite what Jesseth just witnessed. “I chose him. Always him.”
Jesseth's gaze travels from Vasek's dismembered corpse to us, understanding dawning in his expression. The scent of sex and blood and violence fills the air between us.
“Tell the others what you witnessed here,” Kiakoa commands. “Tell them what happens to lords who touch my mate.”
Jesseth flees without another word.
Only then do we manage to dress in what remains of our clothes. I'm still shaky from the intensity of what just happened, but there's a deep satisfaction in my chest. He came for me. Killed for me. Claimed me over the corpse of the fool who thought he could take me away.
“We should return home,” Kiakoa says, but his hands are gentle as he helps me stand.
“Yes. But first...” I turn to where Scratch materializes in the doorway, his form more solid than I've seen since the attack.
“Forty-eight years, sixty-nine days until my service ends,” he begins automatically, then stops. “Actually, master, I may have miscalculated.”
“How so?” Kiakoa asks, wrapping his cloak around my shoulders.
“When I realized Lady Braith had been taken, I may have... exceeded the parameters of my binding.” His eyes blink in sequence. “I placed tracking charms without authorization. Actively fought to protect her despite knowing it would damage my form. Violated the terms of my service to ensure your reunion.”
Kiakoa stares at him. “You risked dissolution to save her.”
“I violated the terms of my binding to do so. Technically, this should extend my sentence.”
“Or,” Kiakoa says slowly, “it could end it entirely.”
Scratch's multiple eyes widen. “Master?”
“You risked everything to protect what matters most to me. That deserves reward, not punishment.” Kiakoa moves to retrieve a blade from among the scattered weapons. “I, Lord Kiakoa of the Northern Reaches, release you from your debt-service. You are free.”
He draws the blade across his own palm, letting blood drip onto the stone floor. The binding contract that's held Scratch for decades dissolves in golden light.
“Free,” Scratch breathes, staring at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. “I'm... free.”
“Free to go wherever you choose,” Kiakoa confirms.
Scratch considers this for a long moment. Then he produces a scroll from his coat—a new contract, already prepared.
“I choose to stay. Different terms this time—friend and advisor rather than bound servant. And when those babies arrive, someone will need to keep them from accidentally destroying everything.”
“Babies?” I stare at him. “What babies?”
“The ones you're carrying.” He blinks at my expression. “Can you not smell it? The change in your scent during the bonding, the way your body responded to the knotting? Twin heartbeats, actually. Strong ones.”
The world tilts around me. Pregnant. With twins.
“How long?” I manage.
“Two, maybe three weeks since conception. The permanent bond accelerated everything—your body adapted to carry Vethani offspring almost immediately.” Scratch rolls up his new contract, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Those children will inherit abilities from both parents. Someone experienced should oversee their early development.”
I look at Kiakoa, seeing wonder and possessive joy war across his expression.
“Twins,” he says softly, his hand settling over my still-flat stomach.
“Our children.”
And despite everything—the violence, the blood still staining our clothes, the corpse cooling nearby—it is perfect. We're bonded, pregnant, and finally safe to build the future we've claimed through blood and choice.
EPILOGUE
