18. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
T he stars stretched in long, silver lines beyond Victory ‘s viewports as the ship cruised through hyperspace, bound for Lithoria. The glow of the controls and the quiet hum of the engines filled the air, a stark contrast to the chaos of just a few hours ago.
I leaned against the railing of the ship’s observation deck, arms folded, watching the endless expanse ripple before me. Xyrox stood beside me, his brilliant green eyes reflecting the celestial light, his presence an anchor in the turbulence of my life.
I wasn’t used to anchors. Or to being taken care of.
But I had to admit, it didn’t feel bad.
Behind us, laughter rang out.
“Okay, okay, so let me get this straight …” Peace One gestured wildly, nearly knocking over a tray of drinks as she giggled hysterically.
She plopped down onto her mate’s lap, draping herself across Varroc like a blanket.
He adjusted slightly with a slight grin on his face, like a giant boulder shifting to accommodate her boundless energy.
“She’s exhausting,” I muttered under my breath.
Xyrox smirked. Yes, but entertaining .
I nudged him with my elbow. “I heard that.”
His smirk widened, but he said nothing aloud. He didn’t have to. Our bond was new, but already, I was growing accustomed to the warmth of it—the quiet, constant presence of his mind touching mine. It was intimate, reassuring.
Of course, I would never admit that out loud.
You don’t have to. I can hear you.
I shot Xyrox a dirty look. Way to ruin the moment, big guy.
“So, you”—Peace One pointed at me with dramatic flare—“were raised on a desert planet. And I, a promising Hollywood starlet, was snatched from Earth and thrown into a space opera. Amazing. We’re like the galaxy’s worst sitcom setup ever.”
I didn’t know what half those words meant.
Varroc’s enormous hands settled casually over her waist as she sprawled against him. “What is a space opera, princess?”
“You know,” she waved a hand. “A story with evil overlords, galaxy-spanning conspiracies, secret twins—clones in this case—space battles, forbidden romance. You get it, babe.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.
“And what part would you be playing in this … opera?” Xyrox asked dryly.
“The comic relief, obviously.”
Prince Frierik snorted from where he leaned against the bulkhead, a drink in hand. “Now that I believe.”
Peace grinned at him, then looked back at me. “And you , well ...“ she regarded me thoughtfully. “You’re like the super tough chick in act one who doesn’t let anyone in. But by the finale, after much brooding and several near-death experiences, you learn that love is the answer.”
“I think I’m allergic to whatever you just said.”
“Denial,” she sing-songed.
Xyrox tilted his head, his amusement sliding through our bond. She’s not entirely wrong.
I shot him a look. You don’t understand half of what she said either.
He took my hand and kissed my palm. True. But I did understand the last and most important part. Love is always the answer.
I smiled at him, unwilling and unable to deny it.
Peace One sighed and sat up, her energy somehow managing to match the spinning of the stars outside.
“Listen, I get it. I really do. It took me a hot minute to accept that Varroc and I had this fated mate thing or whatever going on. I mean, granted, he’s hot as fuck.
But look at him! He’s also huge. He’s terrifying.
He has resting warrior face. And yet, somehow, he’s also the best thing that ever happened to me. ”
Varroc grunted, but his hand on her hip pulled her just a bit closer.
I inhaled deeply. It wasn’t that I didn’t see what she was getting at. I felt it—that unshakable certainty every time Xyrox looked at me, every time we touched, every time his mind brushed against mine in quiet reassurance.
It both terrified and comforted me at the same time. I sighed, surrendering to it, and leaned into my mate’s warm, broad shoulder.
Prince Frierik finally pushed off the wall and joined us, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip. “Sorry to be a buzzkill, but we need a plan.” His violet eyes were sharp. “Jokull won’t stop hunting you, or any of the other clones. We have much to do.”
The reminder of my clones, hunted and unprotected, sent a cold shiver up my spine.
Regent Jokull—the one responsible for the original Peace’s abduction and our creation—although I couldn’t be mad about being created, I guessed—wanted to capture us and use us for experiments and breeding.
He also set up Xyrox and tried to get my mate executed.
My stomach knotted just thinking about it.
“I say we blow him up,” Peace One suggested cheerfully.
Frierik gave her a flat look. “That is not the plan. You know that assassination is against intergalactic law.”
She grinned but relented. “Let’s just call it self-defense.”
Varroc, however, nodded approvingly.
We all turned serious.
“What is the plan?“ Xyrox asked, his voice steady beside me.
Frierik set his empty glass on the table.
“That depends on what we uncover once we find him. We know he’s still operating illegally—black market gene editing, cloning, prohibited experimental enhancements—but he has powerful allies and he’s the richest man in the galaxy.
We need to find him and expose him. Shut down his operation, while caring for his victims.” He exhaled.
“Destroy his operation for good, and make sure it doesn’t happen again. ”
Varroc slammed a fist against his huge chest. “My armies are at the ready, your highness.”
Peace One nodded enthusiastically. “You should see them! Not only are they huge and scary, they’re beautiful!”
Prince Frierik nodded. “Thank you, Prince Varroc. We have to find Jokull—and the remaining Peaces—before we can deploy our armies.” He turned his attention to Xyrox and me.
“We could definitely use your recent knowledge of his organization, Agent Quorath, and both of your tracking skills. I hope we can count on your assistance.”
A fire sparked in my chest at his words. He wasn’t just talking about stopping Jokull. He was talking about justice. Justice for what he’d done to me and to the other Peace clones—to all of his victims.
Xyrox and I both nodded. His warmth pressed into my mind, in silent agreement.
Peace One grinned, nudging Varroc. “Oh, she’s on board now. We’re in the finale. ”
I sighed. “You really have no self-preservation instincts, do you?”
“Absolutely none,” she chirped. “I was fifteen when I was “born”, so, you know, I have no childhood experiences to have learned from.”
Varroc wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. “Your fearlessness is what I love most.”
She beamed up at him, and I felt a strange pang at how effortless they were together. Messy. Chaotic. But undeniably right. I never thought I would take joy in others’ coupling—or my own.
A heavy hand settled on my cheek.
Xyrox.
The warmth of his touch steadied me, even before he spoke telepathically. We will take this criminal on and save any other sisters you may have. Together. Always together.
I looked up at him.
I had spent my life being taught I could only count on myself.
That surviving meant never relying on anyone else.
Zame was wrong. Relying on others wasn’t a weakness.
I reached up, letting my fingers brush against his where they rested against me.
His expression softened, something unreadable lingering there.
I wasn’t just his mate.
I was his choice.
And he was mine.
The stars blurred into lightspeed beyond the glass.
Unknown battles and challenges were ahead of us. But as I leaned against Xyrox, his arm slipping casually around me, I realized something strange.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of trusting someone.
I wasn’t afraid of being rejected for being different … or of being loved.
And that?
That was a victory Regent Jokull could never take from me.
THE END