When she finally reached me, we didn't speak—didn't need to. Via our synchronized heartbeat, everything that mattered passed between us.
Love. Gratitude. Relief. Joy.
"Prime Consort," she said softly, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Lady Prime," I replied.
She took my hand, and together we walked out of the Council chamber.
Behind us, I heard the buzz of conversation as beings discussed what had just happened.
But all I could focus on was Serna's hand in mine. The bond between us, stronger than ever. The future stretching out before us—uncertain, challenging, but ours to face together.
Chapter 20
Serna
My private chambers on Calpa had never felt like home before.
For decades, they'd been functional—a place to sleep between council sessions, to review intelligence reports in the quiet hours before dawn, to maintain the endless work of governing an alliance of thousands of worlds. The furniture had been comfortable and cozy. The lighting had been efficient. The view of Calpa's twin moons through the floor-to-ceiling windows had been beautiful but distant, like looking at a painting rather than living within it.
It had been a place to escape, where I could shed the persona of Prime and feel like myself for a bit. But now, everything was different. Now itfeltlike home.
I'd added a crib in one corner—a gift from Willa, crafted from polished silverwood with traditional Vaktaire symbols carved into the posts. Beside it, a play space with soft rugs and cushions where Titus could safely explore. Toys from a dozen different worlds were scattered across the floor: blocks that chimed when stacked, a plush creature that resembled something between a caphik and an Earth kitten, holobooks that told stories in animated pictures. And I'd added a recliner, brought in from Earth—oversized, comfortable, upholstered in soft gray fabric—positioned near the windows where Cullencould sit and watch the city lights of Calpa spread out below us like a sea of stars.
He sat there now, my mate, with young Titus perched on his lap. The child was barely three years old, all chubby limbs and infectious giggles, and Cullen was making exaggerated faces that sent Titus into peals of laughter.
"Again!" Titus demanded, clapping his small hands together. "Again!"
Cullen obliged, crossing his eyes and puffing out his cheeks, and Titus shrieked with delight.
Willa sat nearby on the sofa, watching my mate and her son with obvious affection. She caught my eye and smiled—a warm, genuine expression that made something in my chest loosen.
"He's good with children," she said quietly.
"He raised Chloe," I replied, settling into the chair across from her. "And from what I've seen, he did an excellent job."
I felt Cullen's pleasure at the compliment, though he didn't look away from Titus. The youngling had grabbed his nose and was trying to pull it off, convinced it must be detachable.
This was family. This was what I'd sacrificed for so long—these quiet moments of warmth and connection, of watching the people I loved simply exist together in the same space.
And now I had it.
We'd been formally mated a week ago in a ceremony on Vaktaire, blessed by the priestesses in the ancient temple overlooking the Valasyne River. Charick and Kavak had stood witness. Willa and Chloe had wept openly. Ako had attended with his mate Helene along with Nansar, his normally stern expression softening as the priestesses bound our hands together with ceremonial cords and spoke the blessing that had been spoken for thousands of years.
Two hearts, one rhythm. Two souls, one path. Two lives, one future.
The bond between us had flared bright and strong during the ceremony, our hearts synchronizing so perfectly that I'd felt dizzy with the intensity of it. And when Cullen had kissed me—sealing the bond before our family and friends—I'd felt complete in a way I'd never experienced before.
The door chimed, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Enter," I called.
The door slid open, and Charick stepped through, followed closely by Kavak. My sons. Both tall, both strong, both carrying themselves with the confidence of warriors and leaders. Charick wore the uniform of a ship's captain, the insignia of theBardagaprominent on his chest. Kavak wore the formal robes of a High General, deep crimson trimmed with gold—the colors of Vaktaire's military command.
"Mother," Charick said, crossing the room to embrace me. "You look well."
"I am well," I replied, returning his embrace. "Better than I've been in a long time."
