The forest was silent as Amity stepped through the tree line, her arms cradling Coral gently against her chest. The blood from earlier had dried into dull rust stains on her clothes, but her eyes—those sharp, mood-shifting eyes—remained vigilant and fierce. Behind her trailed her mates: Ashen Dragonil, Onyx Windmir, and Clot Demis. Each had tasted battle, but now they were surrounded by the safety of Blue Angels territory.
The packhouse loomed like a quiet sentinel. Warm light spilled from the windows, a beacon in the night. It wasn't massive in size, but it had an ancient charm—ivy crawling across weathered stone, old oak doors carved with runes of protection, and a soul so familiar it calmed the nerves of even the strongest.
Amity exhaled as she stepped into the threshold, letting the door close behind her with a soft thud. The moment the group entered, a scent bloomed in the air—rich and unmistakably tied to one of her own.
"Beryl," Amity whispered to herself. The name curled from her lips like an old song. He was asleep, tucked away in her room. His presence pulsed quietly in her chest, steady and reassuring. But now wasn't the time to wake him.
"We'll let him rest," she said without turning to the others. "Come with me."
Leila appeared at the base of the stairs, eyes curious but tired. Her white hair was a little messy, and she wore a long, oversized hoodie that brushed her knees.
"Mom," she said gently, "need help?"
"Lead them to their rooms. Ashen, Onyx, and Clot—you'll sleep in my room. Electra stays in the room near Leila's," Amity said smoothly.
Leila nodded, then gave Electra a longer, searching look. Her lips parted as if she might say something, but instead, she turned and started up the stairs, motioning for them to follow.
As they disappeared down the hallway, Leila slowed in front of a door. She opened it gently and gestured to the room inside.
"You'll stay here, Electra," she said softly. Her voice trembled, just a little.
Electra hesitated in the hallway, blinking up at Leila from behind the curtain of her long hair. "Thank you…"
The words were delicate" and shy. She couldn't meet Leila's eyes.
But Leila could only whisper again, under her breath, almost pained, "Mate."
Electra looked up, startled, then glanced away. Her shyness made Leila flinch.
"You don't have to be scared," Leila murmured, managing a small, heart-bruised smile. "I won't rush you. I'll wait."
Electra clutched the doorframe, unsure of what to say. But before retreating inside, she looked back and added, "I… I don't want to be afraid. I just… need time."
Leila nodded once, then watched the door close. Her heart ached—but there was a small flame of hope glowing now. A fragile spark.
Back at the far end of the hallway, Amity opened the door to her own room and stepped inside.
It was simple.
Too simple for what it needed to be now.
The room was large, with a high ceiling shaped like a dome. The walls were a dark charcoal gray, trimmed with silver vines that shimmered faintly under the moonlight filtering through the window. Her bed stood against the far wall—queen-sized, made with black silk sheets and a single soft comforter. It had once been enough for her. Just her.
No longer.
Amity laid Coral down gently, brushing hair from the witch's face. The girl's breathing was uneven. Her skin, still pale. Amity sat beside her and touched Coral's forehead, closing her eyes.
Her fingers glowed faintly with blue magic.
"Sleep," she whispered, casting a calming spell, gentle as a lullaby. "Heal."
Coral's chest rose, then fell. The tension in her body melted, and her features relaxed into peaceful sleep.
Amity stood up and turned toward the rest of the room.
It needed to be more. It needed to be theirs.
With a soft wave of her hand, the runes around her room lit up. Threads of light spread across the walls, into the corners, curling up into the air like smoke. She whispered under her breath, her ancient magical tongue known only to those whose blood carried the songs of a hundred beings.
The bed shivered—then dissolved into golden dust.
Where it once stood, a much larger bed formed, glowing softly as it took shape. Black and violet silks covered the mattress, adorned with pillows of every size. It was enormous—wide enough for all her mates to lie together without ever feeling cramped.
The ceiling, once simple plaster, transformed into a crystal dome that reflected the night sky. Stars shimmered above them, as if the galaxy itself had been drawn into the room. Tiny glowing orbs hovered in the air, soft like fireflies, casting dim light like candles.
The carpet thickened under her feet, now dark red with silver thread running through it. A fireplace kindled itself to life on the opposite wall. The scent of lavender and jasmine began to drift in, summoned by her magic.
The room no longer felt like a battlefield's respite.
Now, it was a sanctuary.
A home.
Her home.
For all of them.
Amity returned to Coral's side and gently tucked the covers around her. The others—Ashen, Clot, and Onyx—would arrive once they had changed, showered, and settled. But for now, she watched Coral and listened.
Their bonds were forming.
They needed rest. Safety. Peace.
She extended the calming spell beyond Coral, sending it through the walls to where her other mates were. Each would feel warmth bloom in their chests. The tension in their muscles would ease. Their thoughts would quiet.
She smiled faintly as her magic spread like a lullaby, carrying with it her love, her protection, and her power.
Tonight, she would not sleep.
Tonight, she would watch over them all.
The fire crackled softly behind her, and the stars above twinkled in silence.
She was no longer just the strongest alpha in the world.
She was becoming something more.
Something whole.
The Blue Angels pack house had never felt so quiet.
Not empty—but full of a new, profound stillness that clung to the walls like a gentle fog. Magic hummed low, thick and comforting, like a lullaby whispered from the heavens.
Amity stood at the center of her newly transformed bedroom, her crimson eyes surveying the sanctuary she'd conjured from both power and longing. This wasn't just a room anymore—it was a reflection of her soul, raw and unveiled for the first time in years.
The once practical chamber now radiated timeless beauty.
The walls glowed with soft, celestial blue hues, runes dancing along the stone in a rhythmic pulse. Vines of silver traced across the ceiling, blooming occasionally with tiny glowing blossoms that cast faint sparkles of light like fireflies. Above, an illusionary sky shimmered—a dome of stars constantly shifting, moving through galaxies only Amity could summon.
A massive bed sat in the heart of the room, elevated just slightly on a platform of black marble veined with moonlight. Silken blankets in rich midnight blues and blood reds draped over thick feathered quilts. Velvet pillows were stacked at the head, carved with sigils of protection and warmth. This was no ordinary bed—it had been expanded with ancient magic, made to hold not just bodies, but hearts long fractured and now cautiously coming back together.
Coral slept peacefully, her breathing slow and even, chest rising gently beneath the blanket Amity had tucked around her. The calming spell she had woven over her—sweet, soft, and laced with lavender and stardust—kept her dreams tranquil and undisturbed.
Leila had personally guided the second-in-commands to their respective rooms. She had chosen to place Electra near her own room—her eyes lingering a moment too long when they parted—and Beryl, still unconscious, was gently laid to rest in a guest suite at the opposite end of the house. Amity had felt his presence fade from her mind just slightly, as if the mate bond recognized he needed time.
Now, the only ones still awake were her.
And them.
The bedroom door opened quietly.
Ashen entered first, tall and regal, his long red hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck. His violet eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, widened in astonishment as he took in the room.
"Amity…" he breathed.
Onyx followed, silent and graceful as a shadow. His deep blue eyes scanned the transformed space with cautious awe. He gave no words—but the tremble in his fingers said more than he ever could.
And last, Clot stepped in, his usual cold arrogance softened. His pink eyes flicked to every rune, every shimmer, every star, his black cloak brushing against the marble floor like a whisper of the abyss.
None of them spoke.
They only stared.
Amity remained still near the bed, her hands folded in front of her. Her long, mood-shifting hair was pure white tonight, with streaks of lilac—calm and safe.
"This is our room," she said softly. "I made it… for us."
The words hung in the air.
Clot tilted his head. "You mean…?"
"For you," Amity clarified. "For all of you. So you never feel like you have to stand guard. Not here. Not with me."
Ashen stepped forward, his voice rough. "It's beautiful. You're… beautiful."
She turned her gaze to him. That gaze—sharp as a blade, but holding infinite warmth beneath its surface. A commander's gaze. A protector's gaze. A mate's gaze.
"You're all exhausted," she said gently. "You don't have to pretend anymore. Not tonight."
She gestured to the bed.
"Come rest."
Onyx's brows furrowed for a moment. "But… Coral—"
"She's safe," Amity said. "I'm watching her. She needs rest, like all of you. So do I."
Ashen didn't hesitate this time. He moved to the bed, his heavy boots silent on the stone floor. He shrugged off his coat, lay down with a sigh, and stared up at the starlit ceiling like it held the answers to questions he had forgotten to ask.
Onyx followed, removing only his gloves before slipping beside Ashen, his expression still wary—but something inside him was already melting.
Clot remained standing at the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving Amity.
"You still don't trust this," she said, not unkindly.
"I don't trust peace," he answered.
"I don't blame you," Amity murmured. "But I'm still offering it."
He hesitated one more beat… and then, slowly, he climbed onto the bed, lying beside the others without a word.
Amity watched them for a moment longer.
Their breathing steadied.
The tension in their shoulders eased.
With a flick of her hand, a golden pulse of magic rippled out from her chest. The spell was soft and wordless—an ancient lullaby passed through her bloodline. It wrapped around her mates like a warm breeze, coaxing their minds into gentle stillness.
Ashen closed his eyes first.
Onyx followed, his body relaxing entirely for the first time in years.
Clot's jaw clenched… then his breath evened. His lips parted slightly as sleep finally claimed him.
Amity moved carefully to the center of the bed. She didn't lay down—not yet. She simply sat cross-legged between them all, her back straight, her hands resting on her knees as she kept watch over her slumbering mates and Coral beside them.
Her expression remained stoic, but in the deepest part of her chest, something cracked.
Not in pain.
In healing.
For the first time in centuries, those marked by war, abandonment, and isolation were finally in the same room, breathing in sync, hearts tethered by something beyond blood or duty.
Amity didn't sleep.
She didn't need to.
It was enough to watch over them.
To feel their steady heartbeats echo through the bond.
To know that even if only for a night—her pack, her soulmates, her family—were safe.