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I grabbed the rope and began to climb, the ladder swaying slightly under my weight. About halfway up, my foot slipped, and I let out a small yelp of surprise.

Instantly, Zehn was there, descending with impossible speed. His strong arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me. “I have you,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

My heart raced, and not just from the near-fall. Being this close to him—feeling the heat of his massive body, breathing in his wild, spicy scent—brought back vivid memories of the dream, of his hands on my body, his mouth...

“I’m okay,” I managed, my voice embarrassingly breathless. “Just slipped.”

He didn’t release me immediately. Instead, he kept his arm around me as we climbed together, supporting most of my weight as if I were no heavier than a child. When we reached the platform, I was surprised by how spacious it was—largeenough for all three of us with room to spare, and surprisingly comfortable.

Khaaz joined us a few minutes later, bringing the rest of our supplies. He handed out portions of the meat he’d preserved from his earlier hunt, now dried and jerky-like. I ate mechanically, suddenly overwhelmed by the day’s events and the bone-deep exhaustion that had been building for hours.

Zehn settled beside me, his massive body radiating heat in the cooling evening air. “Rest,” he said softly. “We have a long journey tomorrow.”

I meant to argue, to insist that I could take a watch shift too, but my eyes were already closing. The last thing I was aware of was a deep, rumbling sound coming from Zehn’s chest. A soothing, rhythmic vibration that seemed to penetrate my very bones, lulling me into the deepest sleep I’d had since this whole nightmare began.

As consciousness slipped away, I found myself wondering if Khaaz could purr too, and what it would feel like to be held between them both, surrounded by that comforting sound from all sides.

12 /ZEHN

The stars were foreign here,a scattered pattern I couldn’t read. I leaned against the rough stone wall, my claws tracing absently along the weathered surface as I kept watch. Behind me, Everly’s soft breathing was the metronome that kept my heart steady. Her scent—sweet, intoxicating—mingled with Khaaz’s more feral musk. The combination should have raised my hackles. Instead, I found it oddly…right.

Today had been a revelation. Khaaz and I had moved around Everly like twin satellites, anticipating each other’s movements, covering blind spots, communicating with barely a glance. There had been no awkward collisions, no stepping on each other’s tails. It was as if we had trained together for decades.

I rubbed my thumb over the hilt of my blade, the worn leather familiar against my pad. The synchronicity shouldn’t have been possible. Rodinians were territorial by nature, especially when it came to potential mates. Yet here we were, two predators circling the same prey, and somehow coexisting.

Multiple heart mates weren’t unheard of in Rodinian society. Some females took two or even three companions, especially in the outlying colonies where females were scarce. But heartmates were a choice—a conscious decision to build a life together. Fate mates were something else entirely.

I closed my eyes, letting my other senses take over. The night creatures chittered and called around us, a symphony of life that masked our presence. I couldn’t recall a single tale, not even from the ancient histories, of a female with two fate mates.

And yet, the unity dreams didn’t lie. Everly called to both of us, her soul a beacon that had pulled us across the stars. Both of us.

I glanced at Khaaz’s silent form, his scarred body coiled tension ready to spring on any intruders. We were more alike than I’d initially wanted to admit. Both of us killers. Both of us lost in our own ways. Both of us finding our center in her.

The Legion had taught me structure, discipline, a code to live by when the universe offered none. Khaaz had never had that. His life had been a series of cages and labs, scalpels and pain. I wondered if that made him stronger or weaker than me. Perhaps neither. Perhaps just different.

Khaaz treated the situation with a cavalier attitude, resigned in the belief that Everly would not choose him over me.

But I knew better. I had seen warriors fall to the deliria amoranta. Had watched as proud, disciplined Rodinians devolved into feral shells of themselves, their minds consumed by the pain of rejection. They became weapons, nothing more—sent to the most desperate fronts, used until they broke or died. Usually both.

I wouldn’t condemn Khaaz to that fate. Despite our differences, despite the primitive territorial instinct that sometimes urged me to tear his throat out, I wouldn’t leave him to that darkness.

My claws extended reflexively at the thought, scraping against stone with a soft screech. I forced them to retract, focusing on my breathing.

The truth that Khaaz seemed unwilling to acknowledge was that Everly hadn’t been given a proper choice. Events had moved too quickly—escape, survival, the constant threat of pursuit. She had fallen into our arms out of necessity as much as desire. She deserved the dignity of a true choice, made without the pressure of imminent death hanging over her.

A choice that Khaaz saw as binary: him or me. But my years in the Legion had taught me to see beyond the obvious tactical solutions. I had watched societies across the stars, studied their customs, learned their ways. Not all cultures shared the Rodinian exclusivity when it came to mating. Some embraced more...complex arrangements.

And wasn’t that the solution staring us in the face? Everly could choose both of us. The thought should have repulsed me, should have triggered every territorial instinct bred into my genes. Instead, it settled in my mind with unexpected comfort, like a weapon perfectly balanced for my hand.

Khaaz stilled, his iridescent eyes catching the moonlight as they flicked toward me. Even now, he had sensed a change in the air, in me, that he responded to. He assessed the surroundings in a heartbeat before his gaze settled on me.

“All quiet?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that wouldn’t disturb Everly.

I nodded. “No sign of pursuit. Rest. I’ll take first watch.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, reading something in my stance or scent. “You need rest too.”

“Later,” I said, my tone making it clear this wasn’t a suggestion but an order.

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