Epilogue

Iblow a hair out of my eyes, concentrating on the lump of dough in front of me. The kitchen's hot, uncomfortably so, despite the open windows. Yeast and butter scent the air, along with rosemary and lavender in the loaves we've already made today.

Half the Starbound guardians are camped nearby, ready to deploy in case of vampire incursion or if the harbingers attack us. I knead the dough, frowning at it. It's not right. I pull my hands away, and the dough sticks to my fingers, tearing it apart. Frustrated, I sigh, wiping the back of my forehead with my wrist.

Dabin's arms wrap around me. "You need more flour, my love."

My frustration melts away, and I lean back into him, craving his touch. "I thought I might," I admit. I turn my head, smiling up at him, and he presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.

"You have the extra flour on your face already, I think."

I snort a laugh. "Yeah, I'm not sure I'm improving."

He makes a sound of disbelief. "With me as your teacher? Impossible." He keeps his arms around me, scooping some more flour from the nearby canister and dumping it on the lumpy ball of too-wet dough.

"Here," he holds my hands, helping me work it into the dough. My heart gives a little squeeze, and I rub my cheek against him. "This is why you are having trouble learning, my love. You are too distracted by your handsome mate."

"Hmmm," I say, watching as the ball gains shape, smooth and flecked with bright yellow lemon zest.

"What is this ‘hmmm,' hmm? You and I both know you cannot keep your hands off me," he whispers, lips brushing against my ear. A smile curves my lips, an eyebrow quirking as I hold in a laugh.

"Oh, is that so?" I half-turn, my eyes wide and innocent. "That must explain why I can't help myself from doing this." I press my filthy, floured hands all over his beard, and his eyes widen in mock outrage.

"Oh, that was very naughty, my mate," Dabin says seriously, then swoops me into his big arms as I giggle.

He dips his head, pressing soft kisses against my cheeks, my lips, then rubs his floury beard on my own nose as I squeal and bat him away.

"Dabin, I hate to interrupt you and Danielle, but it is urgent." Madena, one of the guardians, stands in the kitchen door, an uncertain look on her face.

My stomach drops. Dabin places me back on the floor.

"What is it?" Dabin asks, all humor gone from his expression. I hastily wipe the evidence from his beard and my hands, following them out the door.

Tents pepper the wildflower fields flanking our home, protected by the wards of Idiene Fieldhouse. The Alsewood, the forest Dabin ran me through my first day here, looms in the distance.

"Someone we thought long gone has arrived," Madena says.

"Who is it?" I ask, worry cascading through me. Better than harbingers or vampires, but Madena's tone is hollow, shocked. I swallow my fear, following Dabin down the path to where something moves in the distance. People look to me differently now, their eyes full of something I never saw on Earth. With respect, and hope, and I can't let them down; I must be strong.

Guardians throng in front of our home, watching. As we approach, the conversation dies down, the men and women who protect our people shooting us nervous looks. Though some seem excited, there's no doubt everyone is on edge. They're a chatty crowd, laughing and joking, but now? There's a quiet, electrical thrum to the air.

The crowd parts, and Dabin and I walk to the front of the group.

In the distance, a massive, prehistoric-sized lion approaches.

"My god," I whisper. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I put a hand at my brow, squinting into the afternoon sun. "That can't be real."

"Stars above and below," swears Dabin. "Ras Elasad. He's alive."

The guardians around us shift, talking in low voices amongst themselves.

"Protect my mate if he attacks," Dabin says suddenly, pushing me behind him.

"For crying out loud, Dabin, I can just torch him." I mean, my powers aren't perfect, but I've gotten pretty good at burning bread to a crisp. I peek around my mate's torso at the monster lion pacing towards us.

"He's not alone," Madena says. "Look."

Sure enough, there's someone astride him. How the heck they stay on the wide expanse of his back, I haven't a clue. Whoever it is must have buns of steel.

Then the rider sits up, and I gasp.

"It's a woman." My hand covers my mouth. Her hair shimmers gold in the sunlight, long, brushing past her shoulders. But that's not what has my full attention. I look down at my own laced up tunic and lightweight leggings, clothes that have become my uniform.

The woman riding the lion's back? She's wearing shorts, and a bra I recognize, one I used to have. One I bought at Target.

She's from Earth.