EPILOGUE II
Aimee
The gentle, warm breeze of Eimiryia caresses my windswept hair, tickling my nose with the intoxicating scent of honeysuckle and bergamot, and I release a gleeful shriek as we soar above fields of eternal spring.
The sky is painted the palest of blues while the clouds we spear through taste like sugared roses.
The male behind me huffs in feigned annoyance, spitting a lock of my hair that slapped his mouth.
“I wish you’d heed my request and braid your hair before we mount K’haram. I am not fond of sampling the scented soap you use to wash your hair every single Godsdamned day.”
“Oh hush, Aeon,” I say, attempting to elbow his side, although I know I will be met just by his shadowy form. “I see you sniffing your lover’s tresses way more often than it would be healthy.”
“That’s different,” he grumbles under his breath.
“Omri,” K’haram chuckles, turning his head to cast us an admonishing gaze, but the crinkles forming at the edges of his emerald eyes betray his amusement.
“Yes?” we both answer in unison before bursting into laughter.
“You two are giving me a bigger headache than my rambunctious hatchlings,” K’haram rumbles, his booming voice thundering in the sky.
His voice is no longer an echo in my mind. It’s loud and clear and thick with perpetual mirth.
“Liar,” I whisper in glee as I caress the scales at the base of his neck and feel the satisfied vibrations of his purring.
There are no headaches in Eimiryia.
No pain.
No fear.
No anxiety.
None of those disturbing emotions that abound in Imiryion.
Eimirya is truly a place of ever after. A realm of peace and fulfillment.
My mother is here.
The one I never met in this form.
So are the former Fae Gods. Our inner circle.
Memories of our first meeting flash through my brain. The strangeness of knowing them from eons ago and yet never having seen them in my life. The last one, at least.
Realizing that all my rage and sorrow had melted into acceptance.
And then the shock of having our shadows take the permanence of our former selves.
In Eimiryia they were no longer confined to our flesh, free to live their happy ending.
Our happy ending.
A swish of air and swirls of crimson staining the edges of my vision pull me out of my reverie.
Akaori materializes between us on the dragon, landing gracefully on Aeon’s lap, her legs dangling over his as she wraps her arms around his neck. His lips are upon hers in a crushing kiss the very next second, mine tingling with the phantom touch.
K’haram grumbles from the added weight on his back, but he holds his tongue.
“Aimee. Lizard,” Akaori acknowledges us with a slight lift of her lips as Aeon continues peppering kisses down her neck.
“Fanged nuisance,” K’haram responds with a low growl, and both me and Aeon chuckle at their bickering.
Some things truly never change. Killian and Akaori’s relationship with our dragon being one.
The name-calling still continues, even after all this time. Yet I know there’s never any ill intent behind their sharp exchanges.
“Is there any particular reason you’re breaking my back right now, vampire? You know only my Omri may ride me.”
“I’m not riding you, toad, I’m riding my Aeon,” Akaori answers, wiggling her ass into Aeon’s lap to emphasize her point, eliciting a groan from him. I peek over my shoulder as she traces his jagged scar with a finger before kissing the end of it, right below his cheekbone.
“How I love your beauty mark, umbra,” she whispers sultrily against his skin.
“You’d better since it’s your doing,” Aeon chuckles, squeezing her sides.
“You did what?” I ask, perplexed. What does he mean she did it?
“That’s a story for another time, little umbra,” she answers with a wink. “I actually do have a reason to interrupt your flight. Killian’s asking for your presence back on the ground. The human leaders are arriving.”
“Kahlya and Celine?”
“Mhm,” she answers non-committally, busy dragging her fangs down Aeon’s jawline.
“How did they finish their time in Imiryion?”
“Peacefully, I suppose. Passed away due to old age. Hurry back and find out for yourself.”
Neither of them spare me a second glance before disintegrating into shadows and vanishing into the breeze.
K’haram lands gracefully at the edge of the snowdrop field where souls emerge in Eimiryia once they pass the veil between realms, lowering his head so I can dismount easily.
I press my lips against the scales at the edge of his jaw, caressing that spot that makes him hum in contentment every single time.
“Tell Rhea I miss her dearly. Maybe tomorrow she can join us on our flight.”
“And leave the little ones unsupervised? We like our lair too much to leave our hatchlings alone there. We fly with our soul bonded in turns, Omri, you know that.”
“Then I shall pay you a visit, my dear friend,” I say, patting his scales.
“Fine. You can even bring that troublesome vampire of yours,” K’haram says, staring at a point behind me. “Rhea likes him for some unfathomable reason.”
“Unfathomable indeed,” I snicker as K’haram takes flight, becoming just a dark splotch against the bright sky.
“Little umbra,” a whisper floats on the gentle breeze, and I twirl around to find Killian staring at me, a broad smile lighting up his handsome face.
His open white shirt billows in the wind, revealing his sculpted chest and abs, unadorned by the crimson tattoos that once resided there. It’s a sight I drink in deeply, even after so long.
My legs take me to him in quick strides, the tether between us tightening the closer I get, begging to be made whole again.
“Dragoste,” I murmur, leaping into his arms, and he spins us on the spot, my hair flapping around us in dark waves.
His lips find mine, the kiss hungry, yet assured.
“I’ve missed you so, my love,” Killian whispers against my skin, his stubble making me giggle.
“I’ve been gone merely a moment.”
“A moment without you is a moment too long, umbra mea.”
“Good thing, then, we have nothing but time,” I answer, kissing him back unhurriedly.
A warm, soothing golden light washes over the field, and two silhouettes burdened by age walk slowly toward us, hand in hand. With each step closer, their white hair grows longer and regains color.
Their hunched backs straighten, and wrinkles vanish into supple, glowing skin. Two strikingly beautiful human women, as young and fierce as I remember them.
Kahlya and Celine.
The redhead takes me aback by throwing her arms around me, and I return the gesture, squeezing gently.
“It’s so good to see you, finally! Sixty years, yet it feels like yesterday,” she squeals.
“It’s been that long?” Killian asks bemusedly.
Celine nods, giving us each a brief hug.
“Time flows differently here. For us, it feels both an eternity and a heartbeat later. It’s not something that can be explained, only experienced.”
“It’s beautiful here,” Kahlya says, taking in her surroundings with hungry eyes. “Are those…are those dragons soaring the skies?”
“Yes,” Killian answers. “Some of them are actually nice, unlike your old friend, the Desert God.”
“You know you actually love him,” I say, swatting him playfully on his chest.
“I will admit no such thing,” Killian huffs, but the smile he tries to hide betrays him.
“K’haram! Oh, we must see him at once. Blaise has been updating us from time to time about you all.”
“How are they?” I ask, bittersweet nostalgia coating my words.
We talk to Blaise almost every night in his dreams, but it’s not nearly enough.
If there’s one thing I miss about Imiryion with all my being, it’s them.
Blaise and Sariah.
I long to have them here with us, but the realm needs its rulers more than we need our reunion. For now, at least.
“Oh, you know, dealing with the growing pains of parenthood. Akaoree’s well in her teenage years now and she’s a handful,” Kahlya snickers.
“Imiryion’s a handful too,” Celine adds pensively. “Some days are better than others. But if anyone can uphold the peace down there, it would be the Vampire King and his Queen.”
Peace comes blood-soaked in Imiryion. We know that more intimately than anyone else.
The Manichean cycle never ends.
Only its players change faces.
“Come, let’s get you accommodated in your forever home before you meet everyone else,” Killian says, ushering the humans toward the sprawling borough of Eimirya.
Dusk is coloring the sky in muted purples and vibrant shades of orange bleeding into fiery reds, and I gather my legs under me on the wooden porch swing that sways gently with my movement. Our home has none of the decadent gothic riches of Sangeries or the gilded opulence of the Fae.
It’s breathtakingly beautiful to me in its simplicity.
A porch where I can watch the sunset every day, and the vast expanse of glittering stars splattered against the night sky.
A hearth that always provides warmth, a table always filled with food.
A bed that I share with the male who captured my heart and holds it in the palm of his hands with the utmost gentleness.
No, Eimiryia doesn’t need any of the material riches that abound in Imiryion to cover the ugliness and pain underneath.
Here we carry our treasures inside.
Tranquility.
Acceptance.
Love.
A lightness of heart and quietness of mind.
We are regarded as the rulers of this realm, but truly there’s no need for rules.
Here, all creatures are equal.
There are no petty squabbles, no jealousy or envy.
“A gold coin for your thoughts?”
Killian’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn, letting my gaze glide over his naked chest, a sheen of sweat glistening across his perfect abs.
His dark trousers hang low on his waist, and lust coils tight in my belly at the sight of those sinful diagonal lines of muscle that start at his hipbone and disappear under his clothing.
“And where might you find such a thing to barter for my thoughts?” I ask with a knowing smirk.
“Fine,” he chuckles as he swoops in and gathers me in his chiseled arms, lifting me from the swing as if I weigh nothing. “A kiss for your thoughts, then.”
“That is a bargain I will make gladly,” I answer, and he wastes no time in pressing his mouth to mine.
He carries me inside to the white canopy bed and lowers us both between the plush pillows.
My fingers roam over the expanse of his back, mapping the muscles I have traced a million times over with the same insatiable hunger that never simmers down, no matter how many times we get lost in each other.
We’re blessed with eternity, and even that somehow pales in the face of this connection.
A shiver runs down my spine in time with Killian’s tongue swirling around the mark at the base of my throat.
“Dragoste,” I say in a voice so needy it sounds foreign even to my own ears. The word comes out as a barely contained plea.
“Yes, love?” he murmurs, fangs grazing a breath above my flesh, enough to drown me in sensation, but without the pressure I crave.
“You know what I want,” I pant, my pulse quickening in tune with the growing urgency coursing through my veins.
“I haven’t the faintest clue,” he rumbles with a satisfied grin.
The insufferable male. Of course he knows what I desire. He just likes to see me beg for it.
“You’ll have to ask for it, little umbra, like a good girl. My good girl.”
Dammit. My mind becomes a puddle when he calls me that.
Every single time.
“Bite me, Killian. Have your feast.”
The moment the supplication leaves my lips, he pounces on me like a starved man unleashed, canines sinking into artery and warm blood spilling between us.
Blood is no longer a need for sustenance for him, but it has become our favorite foreplay.
The exquisite rush of my essence flowing from my veins to his, accompanied by the sting of the bite, brings me to climax before I can even take my next breath.
My back arches off the bed and his rough hands find my breasts, kneading, pinching through the thin chemise.
I hook my legs around his waist, desperately looking to close any remaining distance between our bodies.
To become one.
“I love you, Killian,” I moan in his ear, my hands pushing down his trousers to free him.
Who knew I would find my forever in another realm, surrendering to the wickedly sinful Vampire King whom I was raised to loathe mindlessly and fear unreasonably.
I once told him I didn’t want our love to be fated because I wanted it to be real.
Now I know it can be both.
“Not nearly as much as I adore you, umbra mea. All existence begins and ends with you,” he rasps in that low, core-heating voice of his.
And then he enters me, and we are where we have always been supposed to be.
In each other’s arms.
In each other’s souls.
THE END