Epilogue Varrick
The Penumbra's docking bay had never looked more intimidating.
I'd faced down Qeth's paranoia, the Ixari's threat, and a station tearing itself apart. But walking down the Silver Hand's ramp with Sabine beside me, her emerald traceries visible at her collar, I felt something close to nervousness.
First Talon brought back Tamsin. Then Zarek returned with Bronwen. Now me, with a claimed mate along with the third piece of the Regalia.
Rylos was going to be insufferable about this.
They were all waiting. My brothers, the crew, arranged in what passed for casual but felt more like judgment. I led with what mattered.
“Mission successful,” I said, pulling the Regalia from my jacket and tossing it to Rylos. “Third key recovered. Qeth's dead. His empire destroyed. Every crime he committed just broadcast to everyone he betrayed.”
Rylos caught it without looking, his red eyes fixed on Sabine. On the emerald traceries marking her skin.
“Another human woman,” he said flatly. “Of course.”
“It wasn't planned,” I started.
“It's never planned,” Talon rumbled. Tamsin stood beside him.
“Three missions. Three mates.” Rylos's voice carried that particular tone of a commander who'd given up fighting patterns. “At this rate, we'll need to restructure crew quarters.”
“Could be worse,” Zarek said. “Could be four.”
“Don't tempt fate,” Brevan muttered, studying Sabine with interest. “Though I'll admit, Varrick bringing back a dealer is somehow perfectly on brand.”
“Former dealer,” Sabine corrected. Her voice steady, the same calm she'd used at the tables. “Current partner. The one who kept him alive through Nexian toxin and mapped every weakness in Qeth's station for five years.”
That got their attention.
“Useful,” Kallum said.
“She decoded our mathematical message on first exposure,” I added. “Sees patterns most people miss. Counts everything.”
“Everything?” Bronwen pushed forward, sunshine smile and iron-grey sigils. “Cards, threats, escape routes?”
“Security rotations, behavioral tells, algorithmic failure patterns.” Sabine's lips curved slightly. “Whatever needs counting.”
“Oh, I like her.” Bronwen turned to Tamsin. “She's practical.”
“How are you doing?” Tamsin asked, her cobalt blue sigils clear on her cheek. “How long since the claiming?”
“The enhanced hearing is still adjusting,” Sabine admitted. “I can hear arguing four decks down.”
“You'll learn to filter it,” Brevan said.
I watched the shift happen. Tamsin and Bronwen flanking Sabine, that immediate solidarity I'd seen them extend to each other. My brothers assessing but not hostile.
“The Regalia,” Rylos said, holding up the crystalline device. “We integrate it now.”
We moved to the sanctum where the first two pieces sat in containment fields, humming with alien frequency. I placed the third, but something felt wrong. The alignment was off.
“Wait.” Sabine stepped forward, studying the configuration. “The pattern is wrong.”
She adjusted the third piece. Precise movements. A fraction left. Seventeen degrees rotation. Another micro-adjustment.
The three pieces flared to life.
Light exploded upward in holographic projection. A star map filled the sanctum, and there, pulsing red in the center, a single star.
“That’s got to be it,” Kallum said, already analyzing. “The next key.”
Rylos studied the projection. “Kallum, I want full analysis. Brevan, start research on the target—infrastructure, security, intel. Sabine, you're with Kallum.”
“And me?” I asked.
“Try not to compromise the next mission with your mating instincts.”
“No promises.”
I felt satisfaction through the bond. Sabine belonged here.
“Welcome to the Sovereign's Hand,” Rylos said to her. Not warm, but genuine. “Quarters on Deck Seven. Tamsin and Bronwen can help you settle.”
“Though I should probably learn to fly properly soon,” Sabine said. “My landing at Port Gralic was educational.”
“She scraped half the hull,” I clarified.
“But we survived,” she countered. “Which was the primary objective.”
Brevan laughed. “She's definitely going to fit in.”
As the crew dispersed, I noticed Brevan studying his datapad. A resort world called Valyria on the screen.
“Planning ahead?” Sabine asked.
“The game never ends,” he said.
He’s after the Regalia. She’s after her freedom. Only one can win… unless desire ruins them both.
brEVAN
Every seduction is a mask. Every mission a con.
This time, the prize is the fourth Regalia, hidden inside the villa of a corrupt senator. My role? A decadent playboy collector.
My problem? His curator. Carys. Fierce, brilliant, and utterly unimpressed. She doesn’t just resist me—she’s after her own score. And she’s not about to let me ruin it.
CARYS
For years I’ve catalogued the senator’s treasures, planning the day I’d steal one artifact valuable enough to buy my freedom.
Then Brevan appears—all polished smiles and dangerous eyes. He wants what I want. He threatens everything.
He’s a rival I can’t ignore. A temptation I can’t afford.
When a lockdown traps us together, rivalry turns into a reluctant alliance. Every spar sparks fire. Every brush of skin burns hotter than it should. And when the gala explodes into chaos, survival means trusting each other with more than secrets.
Because once he claims me, I won’t just belong to him.
I’ll be untouchable.
And that might be the most dangerous temptation of all.