Page 193 of Their Lethal Pet
He leans in to run his nose along her jaw, then whispers something in her ear that has her skin reddening even more.
My lips curl at the display of care, my inner Alpha pleased.
Our mate is alive.
Our future child is okay.
And soon, all of us will be safe.
“Good luck,” I tell Helia and Cain. Because if my mother is the new liaison between the dimensions, they’re going to need it.
Rather than wait for them to reply, I open a mirrorlike door and step through it. Once I’m sure it’s safe, I signal for the others to follow.
Then I lead our mate to the Netherworld Kingdom.
Where she’ll be able to create a new nest.
In our forever home.
EPILOGUE
ALINA
“Areyou sure you’re all right?” I ask my sister.
She’s lying in her new bed, admiring the view from her open balcony doors, while I sit beside her.
We’re in Orcus’s palace in the Netherworld Kingdom. It’s not at all what I pictured when Reaper and Flame told me about their home. I expected crypts and graveyards. Darkness. Deadly tones.
But we’re high up on a mountain overlooking the gothic-like city below.
There are black structures, inky ponds, leafless trees, and smoky ravines. But overhead, three moons shine brightly, illuminating the remarkable view.
So I suppose it does havesomedeadly tones since everything is primarily obsidian in color, but it’s still stunningly beautiful.
At least to me.
I’m not sure how my sister feels, though. She’s been quiet since we arrived early this morning. I’ve spent the day with her, despite Reaper’s request for orgasms and cupcakes. I just wanted to make sure she wasokay.
She watched quietly as various fae came and went in the room, bringing her new furniture, decorating her wardrobe with clothing, and even installing a few enchanted devices designed to create any food item she might be craving.
I tested the device by making her a strawberry cupcake.
She didn’t seem as enthused by it as me.
We repeated the process with a cappuccino—something I enjoyed and she… didn’t.
Now, she’s just staring wistfully at the view, like she’s contemplating flying.
“Sera?” I prompt her.
“Hmm?” she asks, the dreamy quality of her voice reminding me of when we were in Demeter’s Gardens.
“I asked if you’re all right.”
Her lips quirk up. “You’ve asked that seven times today. Now eight. Or maybe it’s technicallyninesince you had to repeat yourself.”
“Maybe I have, but that wasn’t an answer.”
