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“What’s that for,” she mumbled sleepily, sensing his mood.
“I’m happy.” He trailed his thumb absentmindedly over her shoulder. “I’m home. The taint is clean. I’m not the Prime. We have work to do, but”—he rolled on top of her and kissed each of her eyelids—“I think it’s safe to say we have our happy ending.”
She smiled at first, but then concern darkened her eyes and skated through her bond. He recognized her unique chaser of guilt that followed. She often felt the same duo of emotions when thinking of her brother. He might try to use her as a replacement for his daughter’s mana supply.
Over Leaf’s dead body, and so long as he remained connected to the Well, that wouldn’t happen for a very long time.
Nova sensed his protective surge and squeezed his naked rear end with a saucy gleam in her eyes. She trusted him to keep her safe, and she loved him for it.
It struck Leaf that this part of her right here—her unbreakable spirit—was what frightened her twin the most. Nero had to plan and play games. He spent years practicing and plotting. Yet all Nova did was be herself, and she shone bright enough to change the world. He lowered his lips to claim hers, but she stopped him with three murmured words. “You’re wrong,Papi.”
“Oh really?” He arched back and cocked an eyebrow. “About what?”
“This isn’t our happy ending.” She grinned. “We’re only just beginning.”
Epilogue
Nero had held it together when that fucking carrion crow started attacking. He’d kept it together when half their harvest was ruined. He held it the fuck together all the way back to Crystal City, up the elevator, and into his conservatory.
Roaring with fury, Nero swiped pins from the map on his conservatory desk. Everything went flying, tearing, and crumpling as it fell to the ground.
“Mr. President?”
“Shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, eyes wide and puffing like a bull. The soldier behind him startled, clenched his jaw, but held his ground. With young Alfred’s demise, a slot was open for the captain. Everyone wanted to be the president’s next shit sniffer. It made him sick.
He’d been blissfully lost in his egotistical head before recognizing Nova, Jace, and Aurora’s mothers. How long had she been here, infecting those Tainted fucks with her sickening optimism?
He glanced at the fallen pins and map, then cocked his head. A nearby lantern cast an unusual shadow on the map, reminding him of a chess piece—a bishop.
There was a move in chess called the Bishop’s Opening. It was used to surprise and overwhelm the opponent. Nova’s appearance was a surprise. It had thrown him off, but it wasn’t sophisticated and planned. It was an accident. Nero could do better than an accident.
Thirty minutes later, he stood in the freezing bunker below the Sky Tower. This room was the reason this building had been constructed here. The six grave-like holes had been dug two thousand years ago and then filled with water. The three that housed himself, Aurora, and Bones were empty. But three more were still filled with water and frozen over, waiting for the right time to be melted.
Bones wreaked unmentionable havoc in Elphyne before the fae took him. That was one man. Imagine what three could do.
Feeling his spark return, Nero dropped to his knees at the first pod. He ignored the ice cutting his hands and scraped the worst from the surface, intending to check which of his crew was housed below.
Empty.
His pulse caught in his throat.
Impossible.
He rubbed the surface a little more, using his sleeve to polish the ice to a slick gleam. Bones’s face had been an inch beneath the surface. But as far as he could see, there was nothing here but water. Come to think of it, the surface was slightly lower than it should be. Almost as if a body had been pulled out… or sank further beneath the earth. How? No one knew about this room anymore. Nero had killed every member of his doomsday cult that kept it safe. Rushing to the next pod, he hastily scraped ice. Again, no face rested just below the surface. It was also lower in volume. As the bile rose in his gullet, he forced himself to check the third and almost wept with relief when the face belonging to his most favored mercenary was revealed.
He had no idea how the other two had disappeared. But these pods were just holes in the ground. The method wasn’t foolproof. The old psychic had warned him that her prediction of their safe arrival only stretched so far. Whatever the case, all wasn’t lost. Nero had one piece left on the board. It might not be his bishop, as he’d first hoped, but maybe it was better.
Dusting his icy hands on his trousers, he collected the pickax hanging on the hook behind the door. Then he slammed it down on the ice… right beside his queen’s face.
* * *
