He grinned without apology. “What? I was helpful.”
“Truly awful,” Thalia agreed, dry as flint.
Zara stirred against my shoulder, a warm, sleepy weight, her breath puffing soft against my collarbone.
“I’ll talk to him,” Thalia said at last, clipped but composed. “Later.”
Mallack didn’t push. He simply stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her temple, murmuring, “He’s lucky you love him.”
Thalia didn’t answer. But she didn’t push him away either.
I reached across and gently squeezed her free hand. “He probably just wanted to protect you.”
Thalia met my gaze, and for a moment I saw myself looking back, fire wrapped in calm. “He should know by now,” she said, “I don’t need protection. Just honesty.”
A beat of silence. Then a shriek of triumph broke the moment. Kaelric shouted something about enemy lines and dragoon reinforcements. Vaelen dove into the bushes, clutching a stick like a sword.
I let out a quiet laugh. “You think they’ll end up commanding armies one day?”
“Only if they can be trusted not to burn down the orchard first,” Thalia muttered, watching her sons crash through the flowerbeds like miniature warlords.
Mallack folded his arms, gaze softening as he watched them. “They’ll lead. One day.”
He looked at me then. And the smile that curved his mouth wasn’t mischievous this time. “They’re Leanders.”
Mallack looked at them, then at the baby nestled in my arms, then at the two of us.
“We didn’t get this part last time,” he said quietly.
“No,” I whispered, feeling the truth of it settle in my bones. “We didn’t.”
But maybe now… we would.
“I’ll miss the grandchildren,” I said softly, while watching a large supernova burn in the distance as we flew by.
I imagined Kaelric and Vaelen still chasing each other down the orchard path, sticks clanging, war cries echoing across the stones. Zara would be curled in Thalia’s arms, clutching her favorite carved toy, dreaming of stars.
Mallack stepped up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin coming to rest on the top of my head.
“They’ll miss you too,” he murmured. “But Thalia will follow us soon. She’ll bring the children to Hoerst once the initial offensives settle. Darryck has enough on his plate. And it’s better she isn’t alone on the Icelands during the coldest moons.”
I nodded, even as I leaned further into his chest, grounding myself in the steady rhythm of his breath. The scent of him made my heart ache with joy. We were leaving, zyn. But not leavingeach other.
Not again. Not ever. For the first time in a very long time, there was no grief behind the parting.
“I never thought we’d get this,” I whispered.
His arms tightened around me.
“You and me. All of it felt… impossible.”
“It was impossible,” Mallack said quietly. “But we did it anyway.”
I turned in his arms to face him, needing to see the truth in his eyes. He looked older than when we first met—weathered by rotations, by sorrow—but the soul inside him was the same. Steady. Fierce. Unshakable.
“I love you,” I said. The words came without effort now. As natural as breath. “Even before I remembered, I think I loved you. Ifeltyou. In my soul. In the way the stars looked wrong when you weren’t near.”
Mallack exhaled, a quiet sound that cracked at the edges. “I used to talk to you,” he confessed. “Every night. In the shrine I built in the mountains. I’d sit beside you, staring at your eternal beauty, and tell you about Myccael’s first words. About the way the council was infuriating. About how the world kept turning, even when I didn’t want it to.”
