"Enjoying the view?" he asked, his voice a low, teasing rumble as he dropped that powerful body onto the towel beside her.
"Immensely," she purred, trailing a finger over his matching chakana tattoo. Every time she saw it, tenderness surged through her. "I need to send a very big thank you to Uncle Sam for this body." She traced her thumb over his disappearing trident beneath his heart. Soon it would fade away.
He laughed, a rich, easy sound that was swallowed by the gentle lapping of the waves. But as he leaned in to kiss her, the world began to shimmer at the edges. The brilliant sun softened, the scent of salt and sunscreen mingling with the damp, earthy perfume of orchids and wet stone. The white sand of the tropical beach seemed to dissolve into the cool, mossy flagstones of Quri’s sanctuary back in Peru, hidden within the cloud forest.
He would always be Flash, but he was also her Cisco. The man above her was a blend of two lifetimes, his face shadowed by the stubble of a conquistador far from home, his eyes, the same fog gray, holding centuries of longing and regret.
A profound, bittersweet ache settled in her chest. Here, in this moment, she could have it all. A future with the man she loved stretched out before them like an endless, sun-drenched shore. But Quri had only ever had this. A single, stolen moment in a place the world had forgotten. A love that had bloomed in secret, only to be buried in blood.
There were no words between them. There had never been any they both could truly understand. His tongue was a harsh, guttural clash of consonants, and hers was a soft, flowing river of vowels. But here, in this sacred space that spanned centuries, words were useless. They were a cage.
Cisco’s hands, calloused from sword and steel, framed her face with a reverence that made her ache. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones, a question and a promise in a single, gentle touch. She answered by leaning into him, by pressing her lips to the pulse point in his throat, feeling the frantic, desperate beat of his heart against her mouth. It was the same heart she could feel beating now, strong and steady under Flash's sun-warmed skin.
Their bodies became quiet communication. Every touch was a word, every caress a sentence. He showed her his devotion in the way his hands mapped the curve of her spine, in the way he worshipped the skin that no other man had ever touched. Sheshowed him how lost she was in him by the way she arched into him, in the way her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, erasing the miles, the years and the war that stood between them.
There was no rush, only a deep, unhurried exploration. They moved together in the cool, clear water of the pool, their movements fluid and tender. It was a conversation spoken in the space between heartbeats, a story told in the shuddering breath that escaped her lips as he entered her, in the low groan that was his name, when she found her own release.
In that moment, suspended between two worlds, they weren’t a conquistador and a priestess. They weren’t Flash and Lechuza. They were just a man and a woman, soul to soul, laying bare the truth that their mouths could never speak. He loved her. She loved him. In the quiet hoot of the owls above, it was the only truth that mattered.
As they lay tangled together, the world solidified once more. The scent of the cloud forest faded, replaced by the salt and the sun. The hoot of the owls was lost to the cry of a distant seabird. Flash was kissing her forehead, his touch gentle, real. Quri’s tragic, solitary moment was over. Lechuza’s life was just beginning. For the first time, she understood that they weren’t two separate stories, but one. The tragedy of the past had not erased the promise of the future. It had forged it. The love that had endured for five hundred years had finally earned its forever.
* * *
The smellof charcoal and grilling steak hung heavy in the salty Virginia Beach air, mingling with the distant crash of waves and the bright, happy shrieks of children. Flash leaned against the railing of the back deck, a cold beer in his hand, and justsoaked it in. Their deck. Their house. The place was a modernist dream of glass and bleached wood, perched on the dunes with a panoramic view of the Atlantic. It was all clean lines and open spaces, a stark contrast to his tiny apartment. But it felt like home. It felt like theirs.
A montage of normalcy played out before him. Tex, his LT, was carefully flipping burgers on the massive grill, his wife Nora beside him, laughing as she wiped a smear of ketchup from their daughter Jillian’s cheek. Not far away, Bondo was trying to teach his son, Elio, how to skip stones on the shoreline, his wife Cameron rocking their newborn, Piper, in a shaded chair. Easy and Astraea were tangled together in a hammock, whispering secrets, while Shark and Maddy argued playfully over the perfect potato salad recipe. Twister and Sadie were tossing a frisbee with Brawler, whose brother Toby sat contentedly nearby, meticulously stacking seashells. Dagger was chasing his two boys, Elijah and Ezra, through the surf, his wife Quinn watching with a hand resting protectively on her pregnant belly.
Then there was Lechuza. She was helping Brawler’s wife, Emily, with the food, her dark hair caught by the sea breeze, a smile gracing her lips that still had the power to stop his heart. She caught his eye and winked, and a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the sun. This was it. The simple, beautiful chaos of family he’d always fought for by serving with his brothers. Recently, it had been across lifetimes.
"Flash!" Tex boomed, his voice cutting through his thoughts. "You gonna stand there looking all moody and poetic, or you gonna grab some plates? Your woman's domesticating you, man. Turning you into a kept man."
A chorus of laughter and agreement rippled through the group. "He's gone soft," Bondo grumbled good-naturedly, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Used to be a hard-chargingoperator. Now he's just a guy with a mortgage and a ridiculously hot girlfriend."
Flash just grinned, flipping them the bird. "Jealousy's an ugly color on you, boys. Besides," he said, his gaze finding Lechuza again, "some of us know a good thing when we see it."
As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of orange and purple, they built a bonfire on the beach. The kids were getting sleepy, bundled up in towels and nodding off in their parents' laps. The fire crackled, casting a warm, flickering glow on all the faces that meant more to him than his own. This was his brotherhood, his family. His everything.
Lechuza came to stand beside him, her shoulder brushing his. "It's a good life, Jae," she said softly, her voice barely audible above the fire and the waves.
"It is now," he replied, his heart starting to beat a little faster. He took her hand, his palm suddenly sweaty, the cool sand soft under their feet. The moon was rising, a silver sliver in the darkening sky. The fire was a warm orange glow behind her, framing her in light.
"Killa," he started, his voice thick with an emotion he was no longer afraid to show. Every conversation ceased around them. The guys knew this was coming, and it was right that he do it here in front of them. "I have loved you in a dozen lifetimes. I've loved you as a conquistador and a warrior, as an eagle. I've loved you in silence and in screams. Five hundred years ago, I was trapped between history and the font."
He dropped to one knee in the sand, the grains digging into his skin. He pulled the small, velvet box from his pocket, his hands shaking slightly as he opened it. The firelight caught the silver of the ring, the intricate chakanas etched around the band, and the deep, celestial blue of the lapis lazuli stone at its center.
"Francisco del Castillo said it first. You are my heart. I remembered later when I was dying again. Killa,qammi sunkuy kanki," he said, his voice clear and steady. "I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. The next question absolutely needs your consent. Marry me, Killa. Be my wife. Let me spend the rest of this life, and every other one that might follow, making sure you know it."
Tears welled in her eyes, shimmering in the moonlight. She didn't say anything at first, just sank to her knees in front of him, her hands cupping his face. Her thumbs stroked his cheeks, wiping away tears he hadn't even realized were falling.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice choked with joy. "Oh, Jae. Yes. A thousand times, yes."
Flash slid the ring onto her finger, and it fit perfectly. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with all the love and relief and hope he'd been carrying for five hundred years. It was a kiss of beginnings.
"It’s about time," Easy's voice cut through their moment, loud and full of mock exasperation. "That's the longest courtship on record. It took you five centuries."
The spell was broken. Laughter erupted from the group around the bonfire. Before Flash could even form a retort, the guys were on their feet. They descended on Easy, whooping and hollering as they hoisted him over their shoulders.
"Get him!" Tex yelled.
