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They were meant to be together, and they would be, for the rest of their days.
This she swore.
EPILOGUE
THREE DANNS LATER
TARYN
Taryn awoke the second he felt a shift in the field surrounding his estate.
He’d recalibrated it after the entire Flint fiasco. His vines were still cleaning up the ship’s debris from around the cliff.
But he was expecting this holo-visit. To be honest, he was surprised it had taken him so long to come.
Careful not to wake Leah, who was snuggled against him, Taryn uncoiled his arms from around her delectable body.
A soft moan escaped her lips, and he could swear she was pouting, even in the orange darkness.
Kissing her awake would have to wait until the morning.
He had an enemy to deal with–his own brother.
Taryn grabbed his tunic and sigil necklace, and darted out of the bedroom, soundlessly.
He arrived in the armory in less than three saics.
The door slid to the side, revealing a shadowy figure, standing there, amidst Taryn’s best weapons.
Even for someone who wasn’t educated in Zavorian court manners, it would have been obvious the being in front of him had Rohin blood flowing through his veins.
“Rezal,” Taryn growled.
“Taryn.”
They both bowed, as was tradition, narrowed gazes trained on each other, like vicious zeratops preparing for a fight.
With Quillon speed, Taryn picked up the closest spear and threw it straight at his brother’s hologram, aiming for the black box embedded into the wall behind him.
Rezal’s hand shot out and stopped the spear just as its tip was about to pierce his left eye. He flexed his fingers against it.
The spear disintegrated.
Splinters fell to the floor.
This was no hologram.
For the first time since that dreadful night, when Taryn had barely escaped with his life and dynasty sigil, he stood in the same room as his younger brother.
Rezal grinned. “Surprise.”
“Feels more like a bad omen.”
A mon ago, Taryn would have reached for another spear. Maybe even a satar. But being with Leah had truly brought balance into his existence.
If his brother had bothered to come to Quillon and risk his life, this must have been important.
“To what do I owe the home invasion?” he asked, relaxing his arms, which had been a breath away from Igniting.
