Back on Avalon. In my court. Sitting on my black-velvet throne wearing the white cotton nightgown that covers me down to my ankles.
My eyes dart wildly around my court as I try to calm my racing heart. How did I get here? A memory of my mother flashes through my mind—her telling me I couldn’t be away from Avalon for more than six months at a time. I’d been going to visit Ash’s court then and had been desperate to escape Avalon, thinking of it as a prison and my mother as the jailer. I hadn’t realized she’d meant the six months literally and that Avalon would automatically pull me back—like the Earthside moon pulls oceans toward it to create the tides.
I’d been held captive for six months.
And Avalon had pulled me home.
The enchantress magic of my family line and my sovereign realm had saved me from certain death.
I can barely believe it.
“We’re safe. We’re home. We made it,” I say aloud in the stillness, wrapping my arms protectively around the babies. Then I roll my shoulders back and stretch my arms above my head, testing for any lingering effects of the paralysis inducement. There are none. Being pulled back to Avalon must have broken the already weakening spell.
With a thunderous roar, the double doors to my court explode open, flying off their hinges in opposite directions of each other and banging loudly when they smash into the walls.
Ash stands in the open doorway—his golden eyes burning with an internal fire, and his chest rising and falling as if he just finished a marathon. The weight of his smoky dragon magic rushes into the room, surrounding me.
Our eyes lock across the expanse of the court, and I’m held captive by a rush of emotion at the sight of my mate. “I’m home, Ash.” These are the only words I can get out. I missed him fiercely while imprisoned but had compartmentalized the depth of my longing while I concentrated on staying alive. Seeing him in the flesh sets my nerve endings alight and sparks a yearning in me that only being held in his arms can satisfy.
The last six months have changed him. He’s lost weight; there are dark shadows under his eyes, and his cheekbones are hard slashes in his face. His hair is long and unkempt, and he has a full beard. He doesn’t look as if he’s slept or showered in a month. And he’s still the most beautiful male on any plane of existence.
“I can scent the witch magic on you from here.” Ash stalks toward me, his gravelly voice and bulked up body indicating that Archer is close to the surface and calling the shots—he’s mostly beast right now. Ash launches himself up onto the dais and sends his throne flying out of the way with one swipe of his muscular arm. He circles behind me, sniffing the nape of my neck.
“Ash, what are you doing?” This is not the welcome home I was expecting. But his nearness has my elevated pregnancy hormones humming and increased blood flow pooling in my core, making my entire body quiver with need for him.
“You may look like her, sound like her, but you’re not her. You don’t have her scent. Even under the witch magic, your scent is different from hers. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m going to kill you for impersonating my queen. I’ll rip you apart. Limb. From. Fucking. Limb.” His hot breath on the back of my neck punctuates his words.
Keeping still and remaining calm, I find the suspension bridge in my mind and call across the chasm to the now visible other side. It’s me, Ash. It’s really me. I’m back.
It can’t be, Archer instantly replies, the wishful lilt in his tone warring with the doubt in his mind is evident across the bond.
Ash comes around to the front of my throne and roughly takes my face in his hands. He runs his nose across my forehead, down my hairline and past my ear to the base of my throat.
I want to kiss him. I want to rub up against him like a cat. But I resist. I know this must be a shock for you after all this time, but it’s really me. I use the mate bond to reinforce my identity.
Ash continues his exploration, trailing his nose down into the valley between my breasts and breathing me in.
Your scent is similar, but it’s not the same. You’re different, Archer says in my mind.
You’re right, Archer. I am different.
Ash continues down my body until he reaches the swell of my belly. He freezes. Then he whips his head up so we’re nose to nose, his golden eyes boring into mine. “You’re pregnant?”
I place my hand on the side of his face. “Yes, I’m pregnant. That’s why my scent is different. But it’s still me.”
His blazing, narrowed eyes widen in shock. He puts his nose back on my belly and then raises his face back to mine, his eyes searching my face for the truth. “A baby?”
“Ash, listen to me—”
“A baby?” he demands again, as if trying to sort it all out.
“Two,” I whisper.
“To what?”
“Two babies. Our babies. Yours and mine.” I watch the realization slowly soften the hard planes of his face as the truth of my identity and pregnancy sink in.
Ash lifts me out of my throne and wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my hair and crushing me up against him in a fevered embrace.
Pressed tightly against his warm body, with my head over his heart, I close my eyes and cling to him, savoring his closeness. This is home.
After several long minutes, he cups my face in his large hands and lowers his mouth to mine. I go up on my tiptoes to meet him halfway, and our lips unite in a heated kiss, our tongues darting out to taste each other, his beard tickling my face.
We’re both breathing heavily when he breaks the kiss. “When?” he asks, his voice quiet with awe.
“I got pregnant on our anniversary, the night we played strip poker.”
“How—?”
“I think you know the how part.” I smile up at him.
He gives me a small smile back. “I was going to ask how far along you are.”
“Around six months.”
Ash lets out a long breath, the rigid tension melting from his neck and shoulders. “What happened to you? I’ve been tearing Earthside apart looking for you.”
“Ash, it was Elle. You were right to keep checking the school. She had me hidden there all along, in a subbasement. I—”
“Elle—” Ash stops, his eyes changing from a smoldering gold to a predatory yellow, chilling in their cold-blooded depths. His magic takes on a heavier quality, and his bulging muscles threaten to burst through his clothes, signaling his impending shift. “Archer wants to avenge you. If you say any more, I’ll lose control of him. You can tell me everything once you’ve been seen by a doctor. That’s the most important thing right now,” he says with a voice that echoes through the court even though he isn’t shouting.
I place my hand on the extra pumped-up muscles of his chest as he takes several deep breaths to rein Archer in, the weight of his magic in the room still heavy.
Still bristling with intensity, he releases me. “I need to see you. Just for a moment.” He grips the neckline of my nightgown and rips it in half, the sound of the rending cotton reverberating in the court. He drops to his knees in front of me, and kisses my belly. The babies reward him with a kick and Ash looks up at me with an expression so tender my breath catches. He gives my belly another kiss before standing up and taking my hand.
Something warm snakes around my wrist. Looking down, I see a thin line of glowing yellow magic arcing from his hand to mine—dragon magic. “What are you doing, Ash? Don’t you believe it’s me?”
“Oh, I know it’s you, Princess. That’s why I’m using the mate bond to handcuff you to me. I can’t lose you again.”
“Is this a joke?” I blink up at him.
“Do I look like I’m joking?” He puts his face in mine before giving me a long hard kiss that firmly establishes he’s in control. “Now, let’s get you to Sofie.” He pulls the sides of my nightgown closed and without another word, he jumps us to Sofie’s office.
Sofie’s sitting behind her desk when we arrive. She looks at us and does a double take when she sees me. With tear-filled eyes, she comes around her desk and wraps me up in a mama bear hug. She strokes my hair and repeats, “Thank the gods you’re safe. Thank the gods.” She gives me an extra squeeze before pulling back and looking pointedly at my stomach. “Nina, you’re pregnant. How far along? Do you know?”
“About six months. And Sofie, they’re twins.”
Sofie’s eyebrows lift momentarily before she slides into doctor mode. “I need to examine you.” Then she notices I’m tethered to my husband. “Ash, you look terrible, and you smell worse. When’s the last time you ate, slept or showered? Never mind, release Nina so I can examine her. I can’t work around you like this.”
“Find a way. I’m not letting her go,” Ash growls back.
“Well, can you at least ask Max to come? He can run the tests to prove she’s the queen while I set up the ultrasound to examine the babies.”
“Do we have to do that now?” Ash asks.
“It’s for Nina’s protection and the protection of Avalon. She’s been missing for six months. Her leaders, other rulers and the council all know about her disappearance. We’ll need the proof that she’s Avalon’s rightful queen.”
“It’s okay, Ash. Sofie’s right. I know the drill. Might as well get it over with.” I give him a reassuring smile.
Ash pulls out his phone to send a quick text to his cousin and physician.
While we wait for Max, Sofie takes my temperature, checks my blood pressure and listens to my heart and lungs. “Your vital signs are perfect.” Sofie removes her stethoscope and places it on her desk before turning back to me and placing her hands on my shoulders. “While you were held prisoner, were you injured or attacked in any way?” she asks gently.
“No, nothing like that,” I say. But the unspoken question hangs in the air. Is there a chance these aren’t Ash’s babies? I was held captive for six months; Sofie and Ash both have to be wondering whether I was sexually assaulted.
Sofie gives me a single, sharp nod back. “What happened to the microchip?”
“It was removed right after I was kidnapped,” I answer.
There’s a knock at the door, and when Sofie calls out, Max enters the room with a respectful bow of his head. Unflappable as always, he looks down at my belly and simply says, “Welcome home, Nina. We’re so glad to have you back.”
Sofie hands Max a tablet. “These are all the tests that need to be run to verify she’s the queen. Can you get started on these while I set up the ultrasound to examine the babies? She’s having twins.”
Max reviews the tests with Ash and me that will verify beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am the true queen of Avalon. I had the exact same testing done when my mother died to confirm I was her rightful heir. Max takes several vials of my blood and a hair sample for DNA testing. He performs a retinal scan and fingerprints me. Finally, he measures my bone density and ensures evidence of the broken collarbone I suffered as a child is present.
While all this is happening, Sofie sets up a sleek ultrasound machine. She spends some time calibrating it and makes sure it’s connected to a large flat-screen monitor hanging on her office wall.
“Ready?” Sofie asks, using a remote control to turn on the monitor. She comes to stand over me on one side of the bed with a device in her hand that looks like a wireless mouse, while Ash stands on the other. She moves the device over my belly, and realistic 5D images of the babies’ tiny faces appear on the screen, and the sound of their hummingbirdlike heartbeats resonates in the room. One of the babies is sucking their thumb.
I watch the awe on Ash’s face as he sees his children for the first time.
“I’d like the paternity test to be done as soon as possible. To prove their parentage. To prove they’re Ash’s,” I announce. A paternity test is always a part of a royal birth, but I don’t want Ash to be wondering for the next three months whether he’s the father. I want him to know as soon as possible that the babies are his.
“Don’t rush the paternity test on my account. I already know they’re mine. I can feel their dragon magic. They’re clan. I claim them fully.” Ash leans over me so he’s all I see. “And Nina, even if they weren’t biologically mine, I still would’ve loved and claimed them because they’re a part of you.”
Just when I think I can’t love Ash more, he goes and proves me wrong. Tears beat at the backs of my eyes as he gently kisses me before pulling back so we can look at our babies again.
“If you don’t want to know the sex, you should look away from the screen,” Sofie says, glancing between Ash and me.
“I already know,” Ash says with a grin.
I turn my face away from the screen.
“They’re healthy and measuring at twenty-four weeks.” Sofie moves the device around my stomach, stopping, capturing still images and taking down notes.
Normally, Ash knowing the sex of our babies when I don’t would kill me. But the babies have been my secret from him for months. He can have this one.
I close my eyes and enjoy this moment of peace and happiness, content in the knowledge that the twins are healthy, that we are home and that Ash loves us all.
