Page 95 of The Salvation

“He’s my father,” I tell Quintessa sternly. Beyond this, I’ve learned to trust Shadow implicitly, and it was his idea to keep Aislynn in his care.

My little dove doesn’t miss a beat when she sticks her nose in the air while tightening her hold on the baby. “You think you can just show up after 10,000 years and have a place in his life?” She juts her chin to me.

“You did.” My father deadpans after the timely quip, a mirrored smirk to mine.

Quintessa huffs and stomps down the hall to our bedroom, where a makeshift cradle serves as a backup following the destruction of my coffin. Thankfully, it won’t take Mayce but a few moments to restore, though he won’t let me live it down after.

Once she puts Aislynn down in her bed and calmly closes the door, our little queen prepares to do battle. Her feathers ruffle, the sinew in them tightening. If her maternal fear was not understandable to a degree, and if she hadn’t just undergone such an intense ordeal, Mayce would already have her against Drago with the robe discarded as he landed sharp spanks to her bottom. She may be our Queen of Spirit, but she is still ours. Ours to discipline. Ours to punish. Ours to fuck and love, possess and protect.

Before she can launch into a tirade, Shadow blocks her way, his brows deeply drawn low. “Do you doubt me, spirit moth?”

Her lips part. Her eyes fall. And her chin drops in surrender. Always surrender to the former demon. “I’m...sorry, Shadow. I’m just...I lost Bartie. I almost lost Merikh. And?—”

He draws her into his firm embrace, and I admire how my partner’s wings fold around her, granting her his haven and safety—what she needs after tonight. Not my darkness and demons. She may have saved me, but it doesn’t change my past. Or who and what I am. Just as she accepted Shadow as he is, she also accepts me.

We are monsters. And we belong to the half-ghost girl of scars and tattoos who walked through the Veil of Souls and dared to play with us. She may have saved us all, but her days of playing with monsters will never end.

Epilogue

TWO MONTHS LATER

Quintessa gazesat the Wailing Woods like a little gray doe lost in a ghost light. Her face is white as a sheet as we all stand upon the border that separates the former Waste and the Borderlands.

The four of us surround her as she clings to our daughter. Goosebumps pebble along her flesh, and she holds her wings tight to her back

“It is time, little dove...” I tell her while tracing a solitary finger along her whorls, fingering the lace of the black gown I’ve chosen for her. A regal and elegant black befitting a Queen of Monsters. Black with gold, red, and rich brown filigree to represent us all.

“I-I know...” she murmurs her agreement, but her chin lowers, her lips trembling as she kisses Aislynn’s brow.

With a low growl I cage in my throat, I take Aislynn from her arms and pass her to Drago, who responds like an eager lap dragon. Gripping Quintessa by the waist, I dig my claws into her wings and skin from the backless gown, reveling in her little yelp and how she trembles.

“Do you need a quick fucking against the nearest tree to center you before we leave?” I release a low purr of a warning.

She purses her lips, her eyes darting to their corners to where Mayce and Kyan linger, but they’ve fixed their gazes upon the woods, alert for any threats.

“It’s not that. It’s...”

I shift one hand to her chin, digging my fingers in firmly. “We’ve delayed as long as possible, Quintessa. Kronos is building his army to prepare for our war to reclaim our realms.”

My spine stiffens from her silence. We’ve spent a month in the Waste dealing with the aftermath of Reaver’s stain upon my Court of Blood. We’d buried Bo with honor. I’d selected new Founders and segmented new territories. I’d forged a peace accord with my own damn father, giving him the whole surface realm above my Court in exchange for him managing the unrest of the bitten clans, along with the cult stragglers loyal to Malachor. I’d executed many in public when necessary and more in private, casting their corpses to the Sea of Bones.

Quintessa had even kept her promise to Necrosyne but had gone so far as to bring Aislynn with her. All four of us had possessively snarled in refusal until Shadow assured us both would return alive and well.

We’d even spent a month traveling to each Court realm so Quintessa could reunite with the members there.

But all our people grow restless. Despite their restoration and the Wasteland’s restoration, they are waiting for us to embark beyond the confines of the Waste so we may restore our Courts to their proper realms and welcome all back home. We cannot deny them when we have already found our home.

Frustration primes my muscles until my wings unfurl, flexing their strength in another clear warning to my little dove.

After chewing on her bottom lip, Quintessa finally heaves a sigh and confesses, “What will happen? If you defeat Kronos and take back your realms...”

Heat scalds her cheeks, and I cock my head, willing her to explain more, to fight for whatever it is that her tongue is holding back.

“What will...” Her voice cracks from her emotion, and she flicks her eyes all around before continuing, “What will happen to all of us? The realms span thousands of miles. The Fae country is clear across the continent from the dragon lands. Kyan’s isles are in the clouds. Yours is below the earth. In the Waste, we were...all together. Out there, you’ll be divided. And what’s to stop you from just picking up and...leaving? Leaving me?”

“Mayce,” I bark with no hesitation.

He turns to the side and smiles. “Gladly.”

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