The room was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of breathing and the gentle hum of magic that still pulsed along the walls like a lullaby. Amity remained still, sitting in the center of the massive bed, eyes scanning each of her mates. Her heart beat steadily—no longer racing in fear or braced for battle, but settled, present.
It was a foreign feeling.
Peace.
Safety.
But it didn't frighten her. Not anymore.
A faint rustle broke the silence. Coral stirred in her sleep, her brow twitching as if caught in a dream. Amity extended her hand again, and a pulse of calming magic flowed from her fingertips, caressing the girl's aura like a mother's touch.
Coral settled once more, her chest rising in an even rhythm.
Another sound—lighter—reached her ears.
Soft footsteps padded across the hall. A knock, hesitant.
Then the door creaked open.
Leila stood in the doorway, her oversized hoodie now replaced with a silk robe, white with blue trim. Her snow-colored hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, and her eyes shimmered with something between nervousness and resolve.
"Mom?" she whispered.
Amity turned slightly, offering a small, tired smile. "You should be resting."
"I tried," Leila admitted. "But I felt your magic. It… helped. Just not enough."
Amity tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Is something wrong?"
Leila hesitated.
Then she stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind her. She moved with practiced silence, gliding across the carpet until she stood near Amity's side. Her eyes glanced briefly at Coral, then at the resting forms of the three men.
"They're all here," she murmured. "Like… really here."
"They are," Amity said gently. "And they're staying."
Leila didn't speak for a moment. Her voice, when it came, was quiet. "Electra cried. After I left her at her door. Not loud. Just a little."
Amity's heart clenched. "Did she say why?"
"No," Leila shook her head. "But I think… I think she's scared because it's real. The bond. Me."
Amity reached up and rested a hand on Leila's cheek. "You've always had a strong heart. But even strong hearts can be patient ones."
Leila leaned into the touch. "I'll wait forever, if I have to."
"I don't think you'll need to," Amity said. "She's just never known what it means to be wanted and safe at the same time."
Leila's lips trembled. "Like us, huh?"
Amity nodded. "Exactly like us."
The moment lingered between them. Warm. Shared. A quiet understanding between mother and daughter—both scarred, both healing.
Then, softly, Leila asked, "Can I stay here tonight?"
Amity smiled, a real one this time. "Of course."
Leila climbed into the bed carefully, curling on the edge near Coral. She didn't reach out—just lay beside her, watching her breathing, matching it. After a minute or two, her own eyelids fluttered.
Amity adjusted the blankets, gently tucking them around her daughter and Coral both. The sight of them—peaceful, side by side—sent another quiet wave of emotion through her.
She sat again at the bed's center, surrounded by those who mattered most.
And then, as if summoned by the silence, a whisper of magic stirred through the air.
A vision shimmered in the sky-dome above them—not conjured by her, but born from the bond itself.
The stars shifted into shapes.
Memories.
A boy with wild brown hair and gentle eyes—Beryl, smiling in a memory of a day long gone.
A girl with ocean eyes cooking over a flame—Leila, younger, humming a lullaby in a kitchen full of laughter.
Ashen's past—silent and sorrowful—flashed across the sky. A battlefield, a crown of flames.
Onyx—alone, locked in a stone chamber, only the moon for company.
Clot—standing amidst a throne of shadows, his pink eyes burning with defiance and pain.
And finally, Amity's own image appeared in the stars: a small child with mood-shifting hair, blood on her hands, but fire in her eyes.
The stars held their breath.
The room pulsed with shared truth.
Their pasts were no longer secret. No longer burdens held in isolation.
They were woven now—a tapestry of scars, magic, and second chances.
And still, Amity did not sleep.
But for the first time in her life, she didn't feel alone in the silence.