Epilogue
Leah
The bass thumped through my bones like a second heartbeat, drowning out the controlled chaos of twelve thousand screaming fans.
Our newest client, a K-Pop star named Luna who was being targeted by a stalker, shimmered under the stage lights, her silver jumpsuit catching every flash and flare as she worked the crowd into a frenzy.
I felt the collective pulse of desire rising around me—the perfect cover for anyone with less wholesome intentions.
But for those precious seconds, I let myself forget I was here to work, surrendering to the primal rhythm that made my hips sway without permission.
Inside my pocket, my communicator buzzed, and I rolled my eyes as I pulled it out, knowing somehow that it was another text from my mothers.
We’d stopped to visit them before coming to the concert, and Aano had made the mistake of casually mentioning our next assignment, and they were freaking out.
But I’d come to realize that I couldn’t control their fear, and it wasn’t my responsibility.
I’d been training all year with Aano, Yahn, and the others for this.
I knew what I was doing, and no matter how much they wanted me to choose a safer career path, I had to follow my heart.
At least my moms had accepted Aano and Yahn as my life partners.
Luna's voice soared over the instrumental break, and I focused on the music, which was catchy and completely danceable.
The crowd surged and ebbed like a living organism, a sea of hands and glowsticks pulsing in synchronized worship.
Sweat and perfume and adrenaline hung thick in the air, an intoxicating cocktail that made my head spin in the best possible way.
I closed my eyes, letting my body move with the throng. This was freedom—this sweet surrender to music and movement without thought. My arms rose above my head, fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air as I rolled my spine in slow, deliberate waves.
"Enjoying yourself?" Yahn's voice came low in my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck. Even in this chaos, I could feel the gentle pressure of his tail wrapping loosely around my ankle—his way of maintaining contact without being obvious.
"Just blending in," I replied with a wink. "Nobody suspects the bodyguard who's dancing her ass off, right?"
"There's blending in, and then there's whatever you call that thing you were doing with your hips." His lips twitched, fighting a smile. "I counted at least three security guards who couldn't take their eyes off you."
I laughed, pressing closer to him. "No, I’m sure they’re being professional and watching for threats, not a tiny little thing like me.
" I traced a finger along the collar of his deceptively casual button-up, knowing exactly what lay beneath—the powerful muscles of his Araced physique, the piercings that adorned his nipples, the familiar landscape I'd mapped with my tongue more times than I could count.
Aano snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Stop bragging about being a tiny badass.”
“Caught those Zangrels on our last mission by surprise,” I said, beaming.
Aano huffed, but he was grinning. Yahn shook his head. “No dancing.”
"I thought you liked when I move my hips like that." I wiggled my hips again.
"I do." His voice dropped an octave, the sound vibrating through me like a physical touch. "But we're working, and you're making it very difficult to focus on anything but the thought of getting you backstage and out of that dress."
"If you're going to flirt on mission, at least mute your comms. Some of us are trying to work." Relzo's gruff voice cut through the little speaker I had in my ear. I glanced to my left and saw his massive frame, and his friend Nasso’s, their eyes on the stage.
Aano flashed us a grin that showed the tips of his pointed teeth—what Yahn called his "I'm pretending to be relaxed but I'm actually counting every potential threat" smile.
I bumped my hip against his thigh, the highest part of him I could reach without stretching. "You're just mad because you can't dance."
"Excuse you." Aano straightened to his full seven-foot-two height, looking comically offended. "I absolutely can dance." With that, he launched into what I could only describe as a shuffle-step combined with awkward arm movements that made him look like a broken wind-up toy.
Yahn choked back a laugh. "That's... certainly something."
"It's traditional Tholkon movement art," Aano protested, continuing his bizarre dance.
"Is that what they told you to make you feel better?" I teased, my heart swelling with affection for this giant blue warrior who could look so deadly one minute and so adorably ridiculous the next.
I bit back another smile and forced myself to scan the crowd methodically, the way I'd been trained.
Left to right, top to bottom, looking for anything out of place.
The truth was, for all our playful bickering, we were damn good at our jobs.
Being part of Bodyguards in Space meant working with the best—and after a year as part of this team, I'd earned my place among them.
A year. Sometimes it felt like yesterday that I'd stumbled into this life. Other times, it felt like I'd always been here, always belonged with these two impossible men who'd become my everything.
I stole another glance at them, marveling at how different they were.
Yahn, with his analytical mind and fluid grace, every movement precise and calculated despite his playful nature.
His Araced heritage gave him that gorgeous red-orange skin and the prehensile tail he kept carefully controlled in public but used to drive me wild in private.
And Aano—my mountain of a man, all brute strength and tactical brilliance hidden behind a facade of easygoing charm.
The blue skin and impressive height of his Tholkon species made him impossible to miss, but it was his heart that had captivated me from the beginning—his fierce loyalty, his unexpected tenderness, the way he'd fight to the death for those he considered his.
The Tholkon mate bond had been unexpected, a biological imperative that had nearly overwhelmed Aano when it kicked in.
I remembered the wild look in his eyes when he'd realized what was happening, the desperate way he'd tried to explain something his own culture considered almost mystical.
It had changed everything between us—between the three of us—connecting us on a level I still didn't fully understand but cherished with every fiber of my being.
Luna hit the climax of her signature song, her voice soaring as the crowd roared their approval.
The lights shifted, creating a dramatic silhouette of her slight frame against the massive LED screen behind her.
I felt the familiar tension leave my shoulders as I started dancing again, realizing we were nearly done.
Three songs left in the set, then the encore, and we could—
Movement caught my eye. Not the normal shifting of the crowd or security personnel. Something furtive, purposeful. A man—average height, nondescript clothing—slipping behind a set piece at the far right of the stage. The flash of metal in his hand was unmistakable.
Knife.
"Contact right stage," I barked into my comm, already moving. "Armed hostile approaching Luna's performance mark."
I didn't wait for acknowledgment. There wasn't time. Luna was already gliding toward that exact spot for her choreographed finale. Twenty feet to the security barrier. Ten. I vaulted over it, flashing my credentials at the startled security guard who moved to intercept me.
"BIS!" I shouted, the acronym for Bodyguards in Space enough to make him back off.
The stage was six feet up from the floor. I gathered myself and leaped, catching the edge and pulling myself up with the upper body strength I'd worked so hard to develop. I could hear Yahn and Aano behind me, their footsteps thundering as they followed my lead.
Luna spotted me first, her eyes widening in confusion as I sprinted across the stage toward her.
The man emerged from behind the set piece, knife raised, his face contorted with rage or madness or both.
He was fifteen feet from Luna when I hit him with everything I had, tackling him around the waist and driving him to the ground.
We hit hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. The knife clattered away, spinning across the polished stage floor. The man snarled, twisting beneath me, stronger than I'd anticipated. His elbow caught me in the ribs, pain blooming along my side as he tried to throw me off.
Then Aano was there, his massive hands pinning the attacker's arms while Yahn smoothly secured his legs. The takedown was textbook perfect, the three of us moving together with the synchronicity that came from countless training sessions and absolute trust.
"Clear," Yahn announced, his voice steady despite the adrenaline I knew was coursing through him.
"Weapon secured," Aano added, as a security guard retrieved the knife.
Only then did I become aware of the silence. The music had stopped. Twelve thousand people stood frozen, staring at the tableau we created on stage. Luna herself stood just a few feet away, microphone still clutched in her hand, her face a mixture of shock and dawning comprehension.
"Holy shit," she breathed, the sound amplified through the arena's speakers. "Did you just save my life?"
I pushed myself to my feet, suddenly acutely aware of how many eyes were on me. The sequined dress I'd chosen for "blending in" now felt like a spotlight as I brushed myself off.
"Just doing our job," I said, standing close enough to the mic that my voice echoed way too loud.
She laughed—a genuine, slightly hysterical sound—and before I knew what was happening, she'd thrown her arms around me in a tight hug.
"Thank you," she whispered in my ear. Then louder, for the audience: "Let's hear it for my badass bodyguard!"
The crowd erupted, the sound wall so intense I could feel it pressing against my skin. Embarrassment flooded me, heat rushing to my cheeks as I gently disentangled myself from Luna's embrace.
"I'm such a badass!" I blurted out, immediately wishing I could snatch the words back as they echoed through the arena's sound system.
The audience roared again, this time with laughter mixed in with the cheers. I gave an awkward wave and hurried back to where Aano and Yahn had the attacker subdued, security personnel already moving in to take custody.
"Let's get backstage," Yahn , his hand finding the small of my back as he guided me toward the wings. Aano followed, keeping his body between us and the crowd until we were safely out of sight.
The moment we cleared the stage, both men were on me. Yahn's hands cupped my face, his eyes scanning me for injuries even as Aano's arms wrapped around us both, creating a protective cocoon of blue skin and warmth.
"Are you hurt?" Yahn demanded, his fingers gentle as they probed my ribs where the attacker had struck me.
"I'm fine," I assured him, though I knew a bruise was already blooming beneath my dress. "Just knocked the wind out of me."
"What the fuck were you thinking?" There was an edge to Yahn's voice that I recognized—fear masquerading as anger. "You didn't wait for backup. You didn't coordinate. You just launched yourself at an armed assailant!"
"There wasn't time," I said, holding his gaze steadily. "Luna was walking right to him. I had to move."
"You could have been stabbed," he insisted, his tail lashing behind him in agitation. "If he'd turned that blade on you—"
"But he didn't," Aano interrupted, his deep voice rumbling through his chest where I was pressed against him.
"She assessed, she acted, and she neutralized the threat until we could assist." His hand stroked down my spine, a gentle counterpoint to the fierce possessiveness in his touch.
"You're a badass, all right. My badass."
Something in his words—the pride, the possession, the absolute certainty—melted the last of the adrenaline-fueled tension from my body. I sagged against him, letting his strength support me as Yahn's expression softened from worry to resignation.
"You're both impossible," Yahn muttered, but his hands gentled as they slid down to rest on my hips. "We're supposed to be the ones taking risks, not you."
"That's not how this works, and you know it," I said softly, reaching up to trace the sharp line of his jaw. "I'm not some damsel who needs protecting. I'm part of this team. Your partner."
"Our mate," Aano added, the word carrying the weight of the Tholkon bond that had changed everything between us. I felt the echo of it in my own chest—that strange, wonderful connection that tied us together in ways science couldn't fully explain.
Yahn sighed, then leaned in to press his forehead against mine. "Just... be more careful. I can't lose you. Either of you."
His admission—raw and vulnerable from a man who'd spent years hiding his true self—squeezed my heart. I turned my head to capture his lips in a fierce kiss, trying to pour all my reassurance into the connection.
"You won't lose me," I promised when we broke apart. "Any risk I take, I take knowing I have you both at my back."
Aano's arms tightened around us, his head bending to press a kiss to the top of my head. "Always," he murmured, the vibration of his voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.
I closed my eyes, breathing in their familiar scents—Yahn's spicy sweetness, Aano's clean, metallic tang. In that moment, surrounded by their strength and love, I felt it again—that bone-deep certainty that had been growing since the day we'd first come together.
I belonged here. With them. This improbable trio of human, Araced, and Tholkon, bound by choice and biology and something even deeper that had no name. They were mine, and I was theirs, and nothing—not prejudice or danger or the vastness of space itself—could change that.
I had never felt more loved. Never felt more alive.