But then Ella had started glowing. Literally glowing. And after several increasingly frantic examinations, Nadine had emerged from her laboratory pale with shock and announced, “She’s pregnant.”
The entire Hall of Seven had gone silent for almost three minutes—yes, I still measured time in ridiculous minutes, even hundreds of years later—then Zapharos had looked like someone had handed him the stars themselves.
Now hope spread through the Arkhevari worlds in ways none of us had expected. New bonds continued forming across thegalaxy between surviving Arkhevari and descendants carrying traces of Ashera’s scattered fragments. Whole civilizations slowly rebuilt themselves around something unfamiliar after millions of years of war.
Peace.
Not perfect peace.
There were still remnants of the Mmuhr’Rhong hidden in dark corners of the universe. Still political conflicts. Still recovering worlds. But life flourished now instead of merely surviving.
Sometimes I still struggled to believe any of it was real. Especially when I thought about the people we had lost along the way. One time, long ago, Selkaris had quietly warned me not to become too attached to mortals. At the time, I’d thought the advice cold. Cruel, even. Now I understand.
The grief was unbearable. Kael’Varyn had lived a long life by human standards. Longer than he ever expected after the collapse of the Sythari Empire.
The rebel factions spread across the separated half of the universe had risen together once the truth emerged. Entire worlds revolted. Human females were freed from breeding temples and genetic markets while hidden Arkhevari bloodlines awakened across countless civilizations.
It had taken decades. But eventually, the Sythari Empire fell. And Kael’Varyn had stood beside me through all of it. He hated growing old. Not because he feared death. Because he hated leaving me behind.
“I finally get a daughter,” he’d grumbled bitterly once while glaring at his silver hair in a mirror, “and now my body decides to betray me.”
I had laughed so hard I cried. Then eventually cried for real when he was gone. Because after the chaos and war and impossible revelations, I had finally accepted what he truly wasto me. The father I never had. The person who taught me loyalty before I ever understood love. Losing him had shattered me for a long time.
Even now, centuries later, certain stars still reminded me of him. But Thyros had held me through all of it. Patiently. Endlessly.
Loving me with that overwhelming, terrifying devotion I still hadn’t entirely adjusted to despite several centuries of exposure. Not that I was complaining. Far from it.
“You’re thinking too hard again.”
I smiled before even opening my eyes. Thyros. Always knowing.
I sat on the upper balcony of our palace, overlooking the silver forests and drifting nebulae below, while warm evening light painted the stars in soft gold. The wordourstill made something flutter warmly inside my chest. I turned just as Thyros stepped onto the balcony.
And by the supernova, even several hundred years later, the man still stole my breath. His golden hair hung loose around his shoulders. His black-and-silver armor was partially undone from training. His eyes glowed softly with happiness.
Actual happiness.
I never got tired of seeing it on him.
“It’s a boy,” he announced immediately.
I blinked. Then gasped. “Ella had the baby?”
His grin widened magnificently. “A healthy son. Zapharos is already insufferably smug.”
I laughed softly, joy swelling through me instantly. A child. The first Arkhevari child. Hope made real. My hand drifted unconsciously toward my stomach again. Toward the strange warmth and occasional fluttering, I had been feeling lately. I still hadn’t told anyone. Not even Thyros. It felt too fragile somehow. Too impossible. I didn’t dare hope for it yet.
Thyros crossed the balcony toward me and immediately pulled me into his arms, settling us together against the enormous lounge overlooking the stars.
“The universe will decide what is best for us, my love,” he murmured softly against my temple.
I leaned into him automatically. “I know.”
And I did. Mostly. Still, my voice softened. “I’m very happy for Ella and Zapharos.”
A low laugh rumbled through his chest. “He is unbearable already.”
“As if you wouldn’t be worse.”
