Epilogue
PORTIA
Four years later
“Girls!” I called, fighting laughter as two small bodies scrambled ahead of me down the corridor. “You can’t run forever!”
Sorcha’s long black pigtails bounced as she raced past a suit of armor, her chubby three-year-old legs pumping. Dragon scales rippled over her calves in shimmering blue waves before disappearing.
Evie was just behind her, golden curls catching the sunlight. She wouldn’t stay behind her twin for long. Evie had always been smaller, but she’d inherited Albie’s speed. Chocolate-brown scales briefly appeared on her plump arms before both girls rounded the corner.
A resigned sigh built in my chest. Both my daughters were still learning to control their beasts. At any moment, one or both might spin into shadow or sprout wings and fly to the battlements. Some days with twin shapeshifters were harder than others.
Then again, maybe dragons were meant to be a little wild.
The girls’ happy shrieks echoed as they ran toward the ballroom. I followed, then paused when voices drifted from the opposite direction. The throne room stood at the end of the hall, its doors open just enough to let conversation slip through.
“—feel good about my decision,” a familiar voice said.
Malcolm.
My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t seen my brother in months. Now that he’d finished his doctorate, his work kept him busy. We’d talked via hologram, but hearing his voice in person was different.
I hesitated, my attention split between my brother’s voice and the girls’ distant giggles. The corridor they’d taken led straight to the ballroom, where no less than six Sovereign Guards were stationed at all times. Every guard in the castle was well-versed in toddler capture.
“—what Portia will think,” another male voice said.
Dad.
Wait. What would I think about what? Curiosity piqued, I hurried to the throne room and slipped inside.
Malcolm turned from the dais, where Mum sat between my fathers.
“Hey, Big Bro!” I said, unable to control my grin as I crossed the room.
Relief flashed in Malcolm’s eyes as he smiled, enfolding me in a hug. When I pulled back, I looked between him and our parents. Their expressions were inscrutable.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Malcolm’s throat bobbed, and I knew my surprise showed on my face. My famously easygoing brother looked nervous.
Dad descended the dais first, his golden eyes warm but serious. Mum and Da followed, Da helping Mum down the steps. When they reached me, Mum took my hand.
“Malcolm has refused the throne,” Dad said gently.
The world tilted.
I stared at my brother. “Why?”
He shoved a hand through his blond waves.
“It’s not the life I want. At all,” he added, dropping his hand.
An earnest look entered his eyes, and the excited edge in his voice reminded me of Albie.
“I want to invent things, Portia. I’ve got so many ideas.
Unlike the humans I work with, I have the lifespan to pursue them.
I’m not meant for sitting on my arse in a castle all day. ”
My dad raised a blond brow.
Malcolm gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry, Dad. I know you do a lot more than sit on your—”
“It’s all right, honey,” Mum said, reaching up and patting Malcolm’s cheek.
My throat tightened. Malcolm had always been brilliant.
When we were eight years old, he installed a lightning rod on top of the castle’s tallest tower because he “wanted to study electricity up close.” Mum had taken away his video games for a month, so he’d written the code for a new one—then sold it to a gaming company six months later.
Footsteps rang out, and I turned as Tavish and Albie entered. From the looks on their faces, they’d heard Malcolm’s announcement. They came to me, each one giving me respectful pecks on the cheek.
Dad settled his golden gaze on me. “So, our people will have a new heir.”
I waited for him to say a name.
“You, lass,” he said softly.
At first, the words didn’t make sense.
“I…” My voice emerged as a croak. “I don’t think…”
Mum squeezed my hand. When I looked at her, she beamed at me. “You traveled through time to save our people, sweetheart.” Her eyes grew misty. “Female dragons are being born again, Portia. Because of you. Because of what you, Tavish, and Albie sacrificed. Who better to lead them?”
“I agree,” Da said, smiling at her shoulder. Pride shone in his eyes, which looked suspiciously shiny. But that couldn’t be. Niall Balfour was a master of water. He didn’t cry.
I looked at my brother. “Are you sure?”
He rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you knew how relieved I feel right now, you’d never ask me that again.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Dude? You’ve spent way too long in America.”
Malcolm grinned, then yanked me into another hug. “You’re going to be amazing at it, Queen Portia.”
The words sank in, and panic followed swiftly on their heels. I pulled from his arms and looked at my dad. “I don’t know if this is a great idea.”
He chuckled. “Lucky for you, lass, I don’t plan on dying for a long time. I’ll show you the ropes for a millennium or two, then you can pass on my wisdom to your two wee lassies.”
The mention of the girls made me gasp. “The twins!” I swung toward the doors. “They’re running wild in the castle.”
“What’s new?” Malcolm asked, his raised brow an identical copy of our dad’s.
Mum laughed, already moving toward the doors. “I’ll fetch them.”
I started after her. “I can grab them, Mum!”
But she waved me off as she slipped out. “I don’t mind. You three take your time.”
I stared after her. Tavish and Albie appeared on my left. “Take my time with what?” I asked, looking up at them.
My husbands smiled. Confused, I turned back to my fathers and brother, but they’d disappeared. Probably, they’d left through the throne room’s side door when I wasn’t looking. Or maybe Malcolm had finally perfected the transporter technology he’d been working on.
“Where did everyone go?” I asked.
Tavish swept me into his arms and strode toward the main doors. I yelped, and Albie chuckled, his mismatched eyes dancing with mischief.
“What about the girls?” I protested.
Albie huffed. “Those two need to run off some energy. They’ve been a menace all morning.”
Tavish shot him a look of mild reproach. “Aye, because you fed them fruit punch and donuts for breakfast.”
“Albie!” I scolded.
He raised his hands. “We were having a tea party!”
My heart melted. I’d known Tavish and Albie would be great fathers, but nothing had prepared me for just how great. They were the ultimate girl dads, willing to have their hair braided, their nails painted, and their tea parties adorned with donuts even when I’d told them no sugar until lunch.
“Where are we going?” I asked as Tavish carried me through the castle corridors.
“To celebrate,” Albie said.
“Celebrate what? That I’m apparently the future queen?” My stomach flipped at the thought. “I’m not sure that’s cause for celebration. More like panic.”
Tavish nodded. “Your mum said you’d say that. She told us to be ready.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Good thing Albie and I are always ready.”
Understanding dawned at last. “You planned this with her,” I said.
“She knew about Malcolm before anyone,” Albie said. “She told us this morning.”
Tavish gave me a wolfish grin as we neared the staircase that led to our bedroom. “We volunteered to de-stress you.”
I shook my head at my mother’s diabolical maneuvering. “Your modern vocabulary is making impressive strides.” Although, he and Albie still preferred kilts.
That made three of us.
Tavish tossed me lightly in his arms. “I’m a fast learner.”
I slapped his shoulder. “Don’t do that!”
He did it again. Albie laughed.
“Obey your future queen!” I cried, fighting my own laughter.
Tavish lowered his voice. “You think you can control me, lass?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. You can be bribed with pie and a sleeve of chocolate chip cookies.”
He brightened. “True.”
By the time we reached our bedroom, we were shifting to smoke, our clothes falling away as we stumbled to the bed.
The men were on me as soon as my back hit the mattress, their hands roaming everywhere. I moaned as they stroked and squeezed my waist, my breasts, my thighs.
Tavish pulled back, his blue eyes locking on Albie. “Put them on,” Tavish said softly.
Albie’s cheeks flushed pink. My desire cranked higher as he left the bed and pulled a pair of glasses from the bedside table drawer. The wire rims were purely decorative, his sight restored and his headaches a thing of the past.
But he looked particularly good in them.
He slid them on, adjusting them with his slender fingers.
Tavish groaned. My breath hitched. Albie’s mismatched eyes were even more intense behind the lenses, the brown and green somehow brighter.
“Keep the glasses on, darling,” Tavish murmured, reclining on his elbows with his legs slightly spread. His cock strained thick and ready against his stomach. He crooked his finger at Albie. “Come over here.”
Albie climbed back on the bed and crawled between Tavish’s thighs. I watched, transfixed as Albie leaned down and slowly, deliberately sucked Tavish’s cock into his mouth.
“Fuck,” Tavish breathed, tipping his head back. His dark hair streamed over the bedding, and a muscle jumped in his jaw.
Albie bobbed his head, taking Tavish to the back of his throat on every pass. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back up without breaking rhythm. My pussy clenched, and I dug my teeth into my bottom lip.
Tavish’s blue eyes found mine. “Come here, Wife,” he rumbled.
I went to him on my hands and knees, thrilling at the way he devoured the sway of my breasts. When I reached him, he made a little twirling gesture.
“Turn around.”
The second I complied, he lifted me by the waist and settled me across his shoulders, my head facing Albie. Then he pulled me back so I straddled his face. With a fierce growl, he thrust his tongue inside me.
“Tavish!” I gasped, already rocking.