1
OSIRDAN
High Falls, Southern Province, Chucha
Ota’ano
Why was I standing in front of this fucking gate?
It hadn’t budged in over three thousand years. There was no reason for my boots to be planted here right now.
There were times when I would stand in this exact location, hoping the gate would swing open, hoping I could cross freely to the other side again, aching for the connection of my blood that was shuttered away from me.
But my home planet’s magic was stronger than even I was. Nothing I did would allow me to pry those doors open and cross to the bridge that is S’Kir, a small island I used to enjoy gallivanting through, a realm of serenity and peace.
The door looked nothing like it used to.
Far in the past, when I stood and stared and hoped, it had been a glimmering, dark black stonewood. Nothing could have burned it; nothing could have broken it. The only way to shape it was the effects of age.
Time had ravaged these doors. Pockmarked, dulled, now a muted dark brown, they looked the way I felt: exhausted.
Why was I here? What had called me?
I never disobeyed Ota’ano’s magic. Not ever.
But this was downright cruel to call me here.
I inhaled heavily and turned my dark amber eyes away. I should leave. I wanted to leave. I pivoted to walk away, my boots taking me where I wished to go. There was nothing in this place of desolation. Nothing I could use, nothing I could study, nothing I could understand.
Desperation once burned through me frantically—if only those gates would open. I was numb to it now. It had been too long, and my desire dwindled to a lonely, tired sadness.
Kharini. I did miss my soul mate.
She would have known what to say right now.
I was a sad sack of pathetic apathy.
My boots dragged on the grass, raking up mud.
Ahmnsep gasped. My manservant wasn’t looking at me, though. He raised his hand and pointed. “Sire…”
I spun back.
The lock was glowing. Brutal red and harsh gold.
I stared, transfixed. After all these millennia…
After all this time, was it finally…
The doors shook and shivered, and a great rusty groan rose from between them, trembling through the wood. The rusted hinges screamed in protest but finally started to turn.
One door jumped away from the other as the strain grew too great. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, the two separated more. The right creaked and shivered its way open toward me, the left the same, away from me.
A blast of icy, dry air shot through the widening crack, bringing the salt taste of an ocean I’d long thought I would never see or feel again.
Light flashed as the doors peeled back and clattered open, wide enough for a small contingent of armored men to walk through if they wished.
Ahead of me was the clear sunset of a place I had been barred from for more than three thousand years—The Shroud in S’Kir. Fog and mist rolled and stirred along the ground, obscuring the grass and rocks just beyond. This was nothing like the tiny island I remembered as the gate’s home.
Ahmnsep breathed out slowly, the moisture of his breath creating clouds of steam. “It has happened…”
“Finally.” I couldn’t stop the smirk that raised my lips.
The amulets had finally done their jobs, the gems gifted from the planet powerful beyond measure—but not giving a shite about timeframes. Ota’ano never did care about time as much as its residents did.
It was finally, finally time.
I pulled my long, silver hair up into a high ponytail and stepped through the gate. I wore a cruel and devious grin. At long last, I had work to do.
And it would be final.
2
GWYNNORE
S’Kir
Island of the Unseen Gods
“Is naked playtime done, or do you want to finish fucking?” I holstered my guns and narrowed my eyes at the four unknowns. “Or would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?”
King Belshazzar—finally—released his twin and patted the air in my direction. “Calm down, Gwen.”
“Hmm. Maybe she has a little fire inside her and isn’t completely useless.” Dorian tilted his head, his piercing blue eyes studying my person. “She…kind of looks like you, Bel. It’s a little disconcerting. Is anyone else seeing this?”
“Shut up, Niallan-look-alike.” I whipped a finger back and forth between my lover and his twin, homing my gaze on the only person I knew here. “You are a vampire. He is a druid. This does not make any sense whatsoever.” My lover was different, but he wasn’t that different… Was he?
The quiet woman nodded, dumbfounded.
The two naked men holding swords stayed mute, cocky even in their birthday suits. Now, they were twins. That much was obvious. Damn near identical. A druid and a druid. That was the way of life. Not what was standing before me, proclaiming to be normal—and it very much was not.
A vampire and a druid could not be twins.
Belshazzar still held his hands up at my crazed, scary expression. He stated softly, “You know I am more, Gwen.”
I blinked. I stupidly lifted two pointed fingers, quickly raising them to the top of my head, showing horns, and then dropped my hands just as swiftly. I mumbled hesitantly, “This is because of that?”
Dorian’s blond eyebrows snapped together, a quietness overtaking him as he scrutinized our interaction.
“Yes.” Bel’s lips tipped up at the edges in a gentle smile. “Trust me. It is the way of things for Dorian and me.”
I grunted and narrowed my eyes, then rested my hands on the holsters of my guns and tapped my fingers slowly. Finally, I grumbled honestly, “I’m a little off-balance with this added information. A warning would have been appreciated.”
Bel shook his head, saying in exasperation, “I didn’t expect to see him so soon. Otherwise, I would have warned you. Does that make this better for you?”
“Maybe.” I turned my attention to his bare-assed twin and ran my gaze up and down his frame. It truly was uncanny how much he looked like his son. I snorted. “I bet you didn’t plan to see so much of him, either.”
Dorian smirked, his blue gaze still watchful. “You could avert your eyes if you don’t like the view.”
“Believe me. I’ve seen it before. I’d rather not see it again.” I gagged in my throat, my face scrunching up in revulsion. “Put some damned clothes on. Please.”
“I agree with this female,” the quiet woman grumbled. Her hazel eyes scanned the naked men around her, fierce ownership in her regard. “Everyone needs to get dressed. Now.”
Apparently, she thought they were hers.
I almost applauded her when they went to do as ordered, each man slapping her naked ass as they walked by. She narrowed her eyes, promising something. I guess they were hers—way to go, brave lady. I could barely handle the one man I had, much less three of them. To hell with that. I didn’t need all that male drama in my life.
Bel watched it all with a hardened intensity, and then walked right up to me, engulfing me in his arms. His clean mint scent tantalized my senses, a steadfast security in this odd realm. He softly kissed the top of my head, whispering, “He is not Niallan. You have nothing to fear with him.”