They were only hours out now.

  Paola leaned against the forward railing, eyes fixed on the land rolling beneath them. From this height it looked unreal, like two memories layered on top of each other. The dense, breathing green of a jungle, thick and alive, stretched across valleys and river veins—but the bones of the land felt older, sharper. Mountain ridges cut through the canopy like scars, mist clinging to their slopes the way it did back home in the Pacific Northwest. It reminded her of the Amazon, if it had learned restraint. If it had grown up alongside stone and weather instead of swallowing everything whole.

  And then there was Helios.

  Even from here, it refused to be subtle.

  The city rose from the basin in refracted geometry, terraces and towers catching the light and bending it into something deliberate. Her Earth brain reached for comparisons—Egyptian, maybe, but not dusty, not ancient in the way museums framed it. This wasn’t history preserved. It was history maintained. Alive. Watching.

  “Hard to miss,” Paola murmured.

  Ayla stood beside her, arms resting on the railing, gaze steady on the horizon. “That’s on purpose. Helios was never meant to hide.”

  The wind tugged at Paola’s cloak as Ayla continued, her voice measured, familiar in its calm.

  “After Marcelline fell, things didn’t just… stop,” Ayla said. “Power doesn’t vanish. It scatters. Everyone wanted something from the remains. Influence. Assets. Weapons.”

  Paola glanced sideways. “Including Fallen Stars.”

  Ayla nodded. “Especially Fallen Stars.”

  She hesitated, then went on. “They finally acquired one. In the Miridian Mountains.”

  Paola’s ears flicked. “Wait—finally?”

  “Ashkin,” Ayla said. “You remember how he replaced me after Marcelline pulled me off the team. Diamond-tier prospect. Stubborn. Talented. Reckless.”

  “That checks out,” Paola said dryly.

  “The star fell into a rift,” Ayla continued. “One of the deep ones. The kind that eats people if they get too close. No airships. No teleporting. They had to climb it.”

  Paola winced. “That’s… not ideal.”

  “There was a beast in the rift,” Ayla added. “High-level. Territorial. Smart enough to hunt anyone who lingered.”

  Paola let out a low whistle. “So let me guess. Ashkin went anyway.”

  “He did,” Ayla said. “And survived. Barely.”

  Paola looked back toward the distant city. “And you?”

  Ayla’s mouth curved into something almost amused. “I handed it over to Cassian.”

  Paola turned fully toward her now. “You just… gave up a Fallen Star?”

  “I already had you,” Ayla said simply. “And your gear. I wasn’t going to take it. Not after everything.”

  Paola snorted. “Wow. So this was the big plan, huh? All of that chaos. All those bodies. Just to grab me, the original Fallen Star.”

  Ayla laughed, the sound genuine—but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “If only it were that simple.”

  She shook her head, looking tired in a way Paola hadn’t seen often. “Marcelline’s fallout is… relentless. Every decision she made still ripples. Every alliance. Every secret deal. I spend more time untangling her legacy than building anything new.”

  Paola leaned closer, shoulder brushing Ayla’s arm. “Sounds exhausting.”

  “It is,” Ayla admitted. “And infuriating.”

  They stood in silence for a moment as Helios grew larger on the horizon, its refracted skyline catching the sun and breaking it apart.

  Paola smiled faintly. “Well. At least this time, we’re not in a storm full of monsters.”

  Ayla smiled faintly at Paola’s joke, then let out a slow breath.

  “Helios isn’t the problem,” she said. “It’s everything tied to it. From home.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Paola nodded. She understood that weight. “The estate,” she said. “You and Cassian splitting it. Power, money, influence. Like carving up a ghost.”

  Ayla’s jaw tightened. “Exactly.” She leaned more heavily on the railing. “Honestly? I’d give most of it up if I could. Keep enough for me and us girls. Somewhere quiet. Let the rest of them argue over what’s left. Cassian can have the titles, the properties, the headaches. I don’t want them.”

  “That sounds very you,” Paola said softly.

  They stood there as the ship cut through the air, sails whispering, Helios slowly growing larger ahead of them. For a few heartbeats, neither spoke.

  Then Ayla did.

  Almost carefully.

  “He asked again,” she said.

  Paola glanced over. “Asked what?”

  “How serious we are.” Ayla kept her eyes forward. “How serious you are. With me.” A pause. “With… everything.”

  Paola felt her chest tighten, not unpleasantly, but sharply. “Because of Poca and Yasmin.”

  Ayla nodded once. “He doesn’t understand how that works. He asked how you could commit to me when you love them too.”

  Paola exhaled slowly, the wind tugging at her cloak. “Did you tell him?”

  “I told him I wasn’t answering for you,” Ayla said. “That it wasn’t his place.”

  Paola smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. She stepped closer, shoulder brushing Ayla’s arm again. “You were the first person I met here,” she said quietly. “The first one who didn’t see me as a weapon or a problem or a curiosity. You were… home, before I knew what that meant in this world.”

  Ayla finally turned to look at her.

  “You’re still that,” Paola continued. “You’re not less because I love Poca. Or Yasmin. Loving them doesn’t take anything away from you. It doesn’t divide what I feel. It just… adds to it. Different shapes. Different needs. Same heart.”

  Ayla listened, eyes steady, searching Paola’s face for something she clearly found.

  “There’s no ranking,” Paola said gently. “No hierarchy. But you?” She smiled. “You’re my anchor.”

  Ayla swallowed.

  “There’s something else,” Ayla said, voice lower now. “Cassian… would take my hand. If I offered it.”

  Paola stiffened before she could stop herself. Her ears twitched. “Oh.” She forced a laugh. “Wow. Of course he would. Very bold of him.”

  Ayla caught the flicker anyway, lips curving with a mix of fondness and certainty. “You’re terrible at hiding jealousy.”

  “I am not,” Paola protested weakly. “I’m being very mature about it.”

  Ayla didn’t call her on it. She just reached out and took Paola’s hand, fingers warm, steady, grounding. The simple contact did more than any reassurance could have.

  “I’m trying to make sense of it,” Ayla said after a moment. “Not to justify anything. Just… to understand where everyone stands.” She watched the horizon instead of Paola. “You and I met fast. In chaos. In blood and fire and things that don’t leave room for hesitation. Cassian and I…” She exhaled. “We grew up together. Trained together. Survived the same battles long before any of this.”

  Paola nodded, jaw tight. She tried to keep her tone light. “Yeah. Shared trauma. Childhood bonding. Very classic.”

  Ayla’s lips twitched, but her thumb brushed slowly over Paola’s knuckles, feeling the tension there. “He’s confused,” she said. “Not maliciously. He’s always believed commitment looks one way. Singular. Linear. And suddenly I’m not following that shape anymore.”

  Paola glanced down at their joined hands, then back up. “And I’m… new,” she said quietly. “I dropped into this world less than a year ago and rearranged your life by existing.”

  “That’s not fair to you,” Ayla said immediately.

  “I know,” Paola replied. “But it’s still true. You have history I don’t. Roots I wasn’t there for.” Her ears flicked despite herself. “Doesn’t mean I like thinking about him wanting your hand.”

  Ayla turned then, fully, expression serious but soft. “I’m not leaving you,” she said. “I’m not drifting toward him. Cassian is… complicated. He always has been. But my choices are mine. And I’m not doubting us.”

  Paola searched her face, the way she always did when things mattered. “You’re sure?”

  Ayla squeezed her hand. “I’m sure about what I want,” she said. “I’m still figuring out how to carry the past without letting it decide my future.”

  The words settled between them, not entirely comfortable, but honest.

  Paola nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said. “I can live with that. Even if it makes my stomach twist a little.”

  Ayla laughed.

  Not sharply. Not dismissively. A warm, genuine laugh that carried in the wind between them.

  “Oh, Paola,” she said, amusement softening her voice. “You’re really terrible at pretending you’re not jealous.”

  Paola opened her mouth to protest, but Ayla was already stepping closer. She lifted both hands and gently cupped Paola’s face, thumbs resting just beneath her cheekbones. The touch was grounding. Certain.

  “My feelings for you,” Ayla said, quieter now, “are not confused.”

  She paused, then chuckled again, just a little. “Well… not in the way you’re worried about.”

  Paola blinked up at her.

  Ayla’s smile turned playful. “You do realize you have two girlfriends already, right? Yasmin and Poca. Who are you to complain about divided affection?”

  Paola’s face went hot instantly. Her tail flicked in a sharp, betrayed motion, and her ears drooped despite her best efforts.

  “Hey— that’s different,” she mumbled weakly.

  Ayla grinned wider. “Is it?”

  Paola groaned softly. “I hate these stupid ears. And this stupid tail. I can’t hide anything. And you’re right”

  Ayla laughed again, forehead resting briefly against Paola’s. “I found you naked,” she reminded her fondly, “passed out after fighting off a swarm of zombies, wearing pink fluffy bunny slippers.”

  Paola’s eyes widened. “I was fresh out of a crater.”

  “Literal Fallen Star,” Ayla agreed. “Very intimidating.”

  Paola snorted despite herself.

  “And since then,” Ayla continued lightly, “you’ve been in—what—two city-scale fights? One involving a double agent, another involving a woman who thought she could own the world.”

  Her tone stayed easy. No shadows crossed her face. No weight dragged the words down.

  Just fact. Just memory.

  “And after all of that,” Ayla said softly, her thumbs brushing Paola’s cheeks again, “I’m still here. Choosing you.”

  Paola’s chest tightened in the good way this time.

  Ayla leaned back just enough to meet her eyes. “Choosing you,” she repeated. “And—” she glanced sideways as a familiar voice approached “—apparently choosing the rest of the chaos too.”

  “HEY,” Yasmin’s voice cut in cheerfully. “Why do I feel like are talking in secret about me?”

  Ayla chuckled, releasing Paola’s face but keeping one hand loosely in hers. “See?” she said. “Including Yasmin. And Poca.”

  Paola smiled, tail swaying again—this time, unashamed.

  Whatever waited for them in Helios, at least this much was still solid.