Chapter 174

We swam for what felt like hours, though time moved differently on the water, measured by the rhythm of waves and the pull of currents. The sun beat down on our heads, warming our skin even as the water cooled our bodies. The children fared well in their bubbles, floating on the surface like iridescent pearls, their faces pressed against the shimmering surfaces, eyes wide with wonder at the endless blue stretching in every direction.

The adults swam with steady strokes, pushing the bubbles forward, our muscles working against the resistance of the salt water. Caelion moved with particular grace, his body designed for this environment, his webbed hands and feet cutting through the waves with effortless power.

Then I saw it. A dark shape on the horizon, rising from the water like a promise. An island. Palm trees swayed in the breeze; their fronds green against the blue sky. White sand circled the land like a necklace. And rising from the center, buildings of stone and wood, smoke curling from chimneys, the sounds of life carrying across the water.

The sea lion tribe. A fortress of land in the middle of the ocean, accessible only by those who could make the swim.

We approached the shore, and suddenly there were guards on the beach, sea lions in their human forms, their bodies powerful and tanned, their faces stern with suspicion. They carried spears made from bone and wood, their points sharp and gleaming. They raised them as one, a wall of defense against the intruders approaching their home.

"Halt," one called out, his voice carrying across the water with surprising force. "State your business."

Caelion moved forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace as he stood in the shallows. "We come seeking shelter. Seeking home. I am Caelion, son of the northern sea, mate to this female, father to the child she carries."

The guards did not lower their spears. Their eyes scanned our group, taking in the bubbles of children, the mixed forms of my mates, the woman at the center of it all. Suspicion darkened their expressions. Fear tightened their grips on their weapons.

Then a voice called out from behind them, familiar and warm and surprised. "Ravin? Krys? Aureon. All of you. What brings you here?"

Darius pushed through the line of guards, his bare feet sinking into the wet sand, his sea lion form shifting even as he moved, becoming the man I remembered from the lion tribe, tall and broad dark skin with thick black hair. Recognition dawned on his face like sunrise, his eyes widening, his mouth breaking into a grin that split his face.

"Darius," Ravin called out, as he stood in the waist-deep water. "We came visit you guys finally."

"Krys," Darius breathed, and my name on his lips was like a signal, a call that carried across the beach and found its target.

Rhonda came running. She burst from a nearby hut, her hair streaming behind her like a banner, her feet barely touching the sand as she ran toward the water’s edge. She saw me, and her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks, catching the sunlight.

I waded toward her, the water growing shallower with each step, until finally I was on the sand, dripping and exhausted and overwhelmed. We crashed into each other, two women who had shared laughter and tears, who had known each other through thick and think, who had parted with promises to meet again. We held tight, crying together, our bodies shaking with the force of our reunion.

"Krys," Rhonda sobbed, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "Krys, Krys, Krys. I missed you. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," I wept, holding her tighter. "Every day. Every single day."

We rocked together on the beach, surrounded by guards and mates and children, completely oblivious to everything except each other. I took in the familiar scent of her, felt the warmth of her skin against mine, and I wept harder, overwhelmed by the simple miracle of her presence.

Then another figure approached. She was just as I remember, fierce in an untamed way. Tall and proud, her skin the color of wet slate, smooth and dark, her eyes the pale green of shallow sea water. Mirena. She moved with the dignity of royalty, but her face was crumpled with emotion, her eyes red, her nose running. She reached us and stopped, her hands trembling, her lips pressed together as if trying to hold back the tide of her feelings.

"Mirena," I said, pulling away from Rhonda to reach for her.

She came into my arms with a sound that was half laugh, half sob, her body shaking with suppressed emotion. She was so tall that my face pressed against her chest, my arms wrapping around her waist rather than her shoulders. I felt like a child hugging a mountain, a small creature clinging to a giant. She was sniffling more than crying, trying to maintain her dignity even as her heart broke open with joy. She patted my back with awkward, fierce pats, her large hands gentle despite their size, her voice a mumble of words I could not quite make out.

"You’re here," she kept saying. "You’re actually here. I didn’t believe it. I thought... I thought maybe... but you’re here."

"I’m here," I promised, holding her close. "I came. Just like I promised you."

Behind us, the men were greeting each other with the rough affection of warriors who had fought together, survived together, become brothers in ways that transcended blood. They clasped each other on the back, their hands heavy with meaning, their eyes meeting over the heads of their weeping women with expressions of amusement and understanding and love.

Ravin and Darius embraced, two lions who had shared the battlefield. Aureon greeted the sea lion warriors with nods of respect, acknowledging their strength even as they asserted their own. Eryx and Veylan stood together, a united front, their eyes scanning the crowd for threats even as they allowed themselves to relax, just slightly, in the presence of friends. Soryn looked nonchalant, as he always did, his snakes coiled calmly around his shoulders as he surveyed the scene with hooded eyes. Leon went to Rhonda’s other mate, Silas, clasping his hand and pulling him into a rough greeting. Caelion did too, moving to Thomas, Hendricks, and Fern, clasping their hands and speaking in low voices of greeting and reunion.

The guards lowered their spears, their suspicion melting away in the face of such obvious welcome, such undeniable love. They stepped back, making way, their faces softening with curiosity and welcome.

We stood there for a long time, the women crying and holding each other, the men talking in low voices, the children released from their bubbles now, watching with wide, wondering eyes. Finally, finally, our tears began to slow, our sobs quieting to hiccups, our grips loosening enough that we could speak, could explain, could share our news.

I pulled back from Mirena, wiping my face with hands that shook. "I have to tell you," I said, my voice still thick with emotion. "I’m pregnant. With Caelion’s child. I hope... I hope it’s okay. That we can stay. That there’s room for all of us. My mates, my children..."

Mirena laughed, the sound bright and delighted, cutting through my worries like sunlight through clouds. "Of course," she said, her hands cupping my face. "Of course it’s okay. I told you, didn’t I? Long before I came back here, I told you. I wanted you to come. I wanted you here. There is always a place for you with me, Krys. Always."

She turned, gesturing toward the village behind her, the huts and houses climbing the gentle slope of the island. "We have a home for you. Big enough for all of them. And there’s a lagoon, private and warm, where you can birth your baby. Where you can heal. Where you can be safe."

"A lagoon," I breathed, my hand moving to my belly. "For the baby."

"For you both," Mirena said, her eyes soft. "For all of you."

She took my hand, her fingers warm and strong, and began to lead me through the village. We passed huts built from wood and thatch, their surfaces weathered by salt and sun. We passed gardens of tropical flowers that bloomed in impossible colors, their scents heavy and sweet. We passed sea lions who watched us with curious, welcoming eyes, who nodded to Mirena with respect and to me with growing acceptance.

The home she brought me to was beautiful. A structure built into the side of a small hill, its entrance shaded by palm fronds, its windows open to catch the breeze. It was big, bigger than I had expected, with room for all my mates, all my children, with space to grow and breathe and live.

But it was the lagoon that took my breath away.

Mirena led me around the house, through a path of crushed shells, and there it was. A pool of water fed by a natural spring, separate from the ocean yet connected to it, kept warm by volcanic heat deep beneath the island. The walls were covered in soft moss and flowering vines. The floor was sand, fine and white. Palm trees swayed overhead, casting dappled shade across the surface. It was private, peaceful, perfect.

"Three minutes," Mirena said, her voice gentle. "Three minutes from your door. Close enough for safety, private enough for peace."

I stood at the edge of the lagoon, looking at the water that would cradle my child, that would support me in the final weeks of my pregnancy, that would welcome my baby into the world. I thought of the journey we had taken, the miles we had walked, the ocean we had crossed. I thought of the family surrounding me, the love that held us together, the future waiting just ahead.

And I wept again, but this time with joy.

I turned to Mirena, pulling her into another embrace, holding her tight. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Thank you. For this. For everything. For wanting me here."

She held me back, her own voice thick. "You are family, Krys. You have always been family. Welcome home."

I pulled back, wiping my eyes, and looked at the home she had given me. The lagoon. The house. The island glowing around us. The family waiting inside.

I smiled, my heart so full it hurt, my tears still flowing but my soul at peace.