I stared down at them, shocked.
One had red hair like Kieran, the other with hair dark as night.
“Kiarra,” I said to the red head.
I knew the perfect name for Benedict’s daughter—to honor the sister he’d lost. “Baila.”
Kiarra snored like a miniature thunder god while Bailadrooled on my chest. My body ached everywhere, but for the first time in days, the ache was only from healing.
Not fear.
Not grief.
Not loss.
The island felt whole, for once breathing with us instead of against us.
The wards hummed faintly in the distance: bright, strong, new. The volcano’s warmth pulsed like a heartbeat under the roots of the treehouse. I could feel it all, and it was good.
I inhaled deeply. And exhaled.
Alive.
We were all alive.
Kieran was sprawled half off the cushion pile, one wing flopped over his face like he’d tried to hide from dawn and failed. Benedict slept sitting upright against the wall, sword still across his lap, head tipped sideways at a painful angle. Ronan had passed out on the floor with a notebook for a pillow.
Idiots. Wonderful, precious idiots.
I pushed myself up slowly. My hips protested. My abdomen did, too. But it was manageable. My mates stirred immediately: three sets of protective instincts snapping into place.
“Wren,” Benedict croaked, half-rising, blinking like he’d slept three minutes.
“Stay down,” Kieran mumbled from the floor. “If you fall, I’ll die just from the stress.”
Ronan lifted his head, hair sticking up like an electrocuted bird. “Everyone alive? Good. I’m never sleeping on a hardwood floor again.”
I laughed softly—really laughed—for the first time since before the volcano cracked.
“We should get up,” I said. “The island will be?—”
I didn’t get to finish because the island was already there. A great roar of cheering rose from below our treehouse platform. Shouts. Footsteps. Wings beating.
And then?—
“THE QUEEN IS AWAKE!” a draken voice boomed loud enough to shake dust off the rafters.
Kieran swore. “Stars. Who taught them to yell that early?”
But Benedict smiled and it was tired, soft, full of pride. “They’re celebrating. We all survived. We did it.”
We did.
And they wanted us with them.
I handed Baila to Benedict and Kiarra to Kieran, and we stepped outside together. The entire island had gathered in the clearing below—hundreds of drakens, witches, hybrid children, seawitches, even the newest arrivals from the mountains.
The cheer that went up when they saw us could have knocked me backward.
