Chapter 39

I t took another two days before they roused themselves from their sensual stupor.

‘Home?’ Liana asked, handing him a tender piece of smoked fish by the fire.

It was early morning, and the skies above their love nest were tinged with pink.

‘This is home. Where you are is where I’ll always belong. This place, too, is magical, and I’d stay here forever, sahasí ,’ Kaxim growled.

‘But our Kingdom awaits. Our people need us,’ she chided with a smile.

He shrugged. ‘They can fokkin’ wait. Can we make this a thing? Can we escape often to the wild and lose ourselves in each other as much as possible?’

‘We can.’

Liana sat cross-legged on the floor, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over Kaxim’s face.

She tagged the slight shift in his expression.

His eyes were distant, lost in thought, and she sensed his worry about his Kaldean abilities flitting across their soul bond.

She broke the silence. ‘Kaxim, if you allow me, I want to say that I believe you’ve spent a lifetime trying to restrain your power. But maybe it’s not about control—it’s about balance.’

‘Balance?’ he asked, his gaze sharpening.

She nodded. ‘You’ve been fighting against this force, but what if suppression makes it harder to control? Your power isn’t meant to be locked away. It’s part of you. If you keep caging it, it’ll break free.’

Kaxim frowned. ‘You think I should embrace it? Let it take over?’

‘Not take over. You need to stop treating it like an enemy. Power can be redirected, like a river. If you try to block it, eventually it will burst.’

Kaxim exhaled, his voice low. ‘Sounds simple, but this power wasn’t taught to me. It was handed down, along with my genes, raw, with no guidance—just expectation.’

‘That’s the issue,’ Liana murmured. ‘You weren’t shown how to master it, only control it.’

He sliced his eyes at her, his frustration evident. ‘What do you suggest? Meditation?’

Liana smiled. ‘ Naam , but it’s more than that. From what I learned from my father Kultur, himself a grand sorcerer, the path of a magus is ascetic. It’s about mastering yourself, not just your power. Your mind needs the same discipline you’ve given your body.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘This is a complete shift in how I’ve lived my life.’

‘ Naam ,’ she said. ‘But it’s the only way forward. You’ve fought yourself for too long.’

Kaxim clenched his fists. ‘I’ve never thought of it that way. My discipline has always been physical. This is different.’

She placed her hand on his arm. ‘You have the foundation. Now, you need to apply it to your mind and spirit. True mastery isn’t just control—it’s understanding.’

Kaxim let out a slow breath. ‘I don’t know where to begin.’

‘That’s why I’m here, kadari ,’ Liana said. ‘We’ll start small. Meditation, letting go of the need to control everything, and some exercises I recall my father practicing. The power isn’t the enemy—fear of it is.’

His gaze softened, a rare vulnerability showing. ‘You think I can do this?’

Liana squeezed his arm. ‘I know you can. You’ve fought so many battles, Kaxim. This is just another one, but you’re not alone. We’ll find the balance—together.’

Kaxim felt a shift inside, a new sense of possibility. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Where do we start?’

Liana smiled. ‘With you. With Quiet. With Breath.’

‘With love?’

He reached and cupped her left tit, flicking her tight, hot nipple, and she gasped into his searching, scorching mouth.

The two nights had been bliss; Liana was sore from taking Kaxim’s cock, although even now, thinking of it, her clit pulsed and rushed with wetness.

She’d never get tired of him, of his size, his bulk, his hardness.

Which contrasted his soft, seeking lips and dexterous, thick fingers, which now trailed on her thigh, his eyes glowing with desire.

‘Always with love, but I can’t, kadari ,’ she breathed. ‘My pussy needs a break.’

He chuckled. ‘I have ways of priming you, woman, making it so tender for you. I’ll park the beast for much, much later.’

‘You are a beast. A monster in bed, my beloved,’ she murmured. ‘Which is shocking given how reluctant you were to fokk me at first.’

‘I wasn’t reticent,’ he grumbled. ‘I was unsure you’d be ready for my brand of wild passion.’

She smacked his forearm, but not before their eyes locked, and the soul khamana flared with a need and desire that plumbed so deep she gasped.

It took another two hours for them to rise into the skies again, gliding hand in hand back to Ilkana, a united force.

Their bond solidified by the battle they’d fought and every trial they’d endured.

The weight of their victories and losses forged a stronger devotion than they had imagined.

Back in Ilkana City, they stepped into their respective roles.

Kaxim continued instructing the Ilki warriors.

As a Commander of two armies now, a Djuik consort, and guardian over the queen he adored, he approached his duties with a fierce passion.

On occasion, Kaxim would return to Kos’ sprawling Katánian army camps, now bustling with new kujāas eager to learn from the legendary warrior.

In the rugged hills, his wings outspread, casting long shadows over the workout grounds as he led them in combat drills and flight techniques. His eyes, always watchful, missed nothing, and his pride swelled as the young recruits fought to meet his high standards.

With the security of enduring love, Liana threw herself into her duties as Kwen? of the Ilki.

The rebuilding of the Ilki lands consumed much of her time, but it was work she found rewarding. She oversaw the restoration of villages, the strengthening of defenses, and the rejuvenation of trade routes.

She met widows, orphans, and the wounded, heart-stirring with compassion for the needy.

Ilkana City was flooded with evacuees from the ravaged settlements on the war front.

But now, its urban center felt transformed by conflict. The once vibrant markets filled with the hollow-eyed faces of survivors and refugees, their clothes torn and their expressions vacant.

The devastated hamlets from the battle zone were emptied, and the kingdom’s capital swelled with the displaced, seeking shelter within its walls.

One morning, Liana walked the streets, her heart heavy with the suffering she witnessed. Signs of devastation were present everywhere she turned—families huddled together, mothers clutching their children close. Older men and women who’d lost their farms and homes sat devastated, their eyes dulled by loss.

But one child in particular stopped her in her tracks.

A boy, no older than five, hovered at the edge of the crowd, so thin and fragile that he seemed on the verge of collapse. Rags wrapped his tiny body, the fabric hanging loosely around his skeletal frame.

His cheeks sunken, his arms little more than bones beneath his skin, and his eyes, immense in his little face and haunting, held a depth of sorrow far beyond his years.

He stood with a group of villagers from the south, all of whom bore the marks of war. It became clear that no parents existed to hold him close, no family to offer comfort. His eyes stared at the ground, too weary to cry, too tired to hope.

Liana’s heart shattered.

Without a word, she stepped forward and knelt before the child. With a gentle clasp, she reached out and took him into her arms.

He weighed next to nothing, his tiny body trembling with exhaustion and hunger. As she cradled him, the crowd around them seemed to blur, their voices fading into the background.

All that mattered at that moment was comforting and nurturing his lost soul.

Liana held him close, pressing his thin frame against her chest. She whispered words of solace that she wasn’t sure he understood, but it didn’t matter. He needed to know someone cared for him and that he was worthy of love.

She reached for a piece of bread from her pouch and tore it into small pieces, feeding him with care as she clutched him.

His tiny mouth opened, hesitating at first, but then, with the desperate hunger of a starving child, he began to eat. His frail hands clutched her cloak as he leaned into her warmth.

Tears stung her eyes as she gazed at him, and for the briefest moment, Liana carried all the anguish of the war in her spirit.

Her gaze flickered to the group of neighbors who’d brought him to safety, their faces lined with exhaustion and grief.

They had done what they could, but the fighting ravaged more than their village—it had stolen their ability to care for the weakest among them.

After feeding him, Liana stood, still cradling the boy, and turned to her attendant, Ja’Kan, who waited silently at her side—his solemn expression expressing the gravity of their experience.

‘Ja’Kan,’ she said, her voice quiet but firm, ‘make sure he’s tended to at the palace. He’ll need food, rest, and a healer’s care. And when he’s stronger, find him a place to sleep and learn with the children in the Ilkanisa.’

Ja’Kan nodded, stepping forward to take the youngster from her arms.

The child whimpered at the loss of her warmth, and Liana’s heart twisted as she handed him over.

She brushed a strand of hair from his face before Ja’Kan carried him away, disappearing into the crowds of displaced persons.

Liana stood for a long moment, her eyes following them even after they’d disappeared.

The faces of the exiles blurred again, but the image of the boy remained burned into her mind—his tiny, broken form, his hollow eyes.

She spent the rest of the day haunted by him, her thoughts turning to the war’s consequences.

Not just in terms of land and power but in the lives it destroyed.

She thought of how easily the child would have been lost to the war, just another nameless casualty.

The war had torn families apart, but she’d saved at least this one soul and offered him a new life, even if it was just a tiny act amid the chaos.

But even as she resumed her duties, listening to the pleas of her people, reviewing battle plans, and working to rebuild her kingdom, the boy’s face stayed with her.

At dinner with Kaxim that night, her thoughts lingered on the youngster.

‘I have to do more!’ she declared.

Kaxim jolted at her sudden outburst, forehead furrowed. ‘I’ll need context to work with, woman,’ he growled.

‘Today, I encountered families devastated by this senseless war. I even met a small child, broken, starving, all alone in the world. Fokk, I want to adopt him and all the guiltless hurting as a result.’

He arched a brow. ‘I hear you, kavisi .’

Her face became even more fierce. ‘My rule will be marked by the rebuilding of Ilkan and the lives I help heal in the aftermath. I won’t be just a warrior queen but a protector of the innocent.’

He shot her an enigmatic look. ‘You’re the Kwen? . You can do whatever the fokk you want.’

She mulled on his words as her neverending, back-breaking work continued.

Her people, once weary and worn, thrived under her leadership. Every decision she made was for them, and her heart was forever tied to the kingdom she’d bled for.

Working alongside Killen, the Kíríga of Katánē helped.

With their trade agreements assured, their alliance grew more robust.

The cracks that had threatened to break them apart began to heal, filled with mutual respect and trust.

Killen’s wife, Sana’a, quickly became one of Liana’s dearest confidantes.

When the Katánian King and his First organized to meet, the two women took the chance to visit each other, laughing over tea and whispering about the challenges of ruling kingdoms.

Sana’a’s three children brought a new light to Liana’s life. Their laughter echoed through the halls, their playful energy a welcome reminder that joy was a significant cornerstone of life, even in times of utter sadness.

Kione, Kaxim’s ever-loyal and acerbic friend, never missed an opportunity to spend time with the couple.

His sharp humor was always in good fun, but beneath it, Liana sensed the weight of his own heart.

He longed quietly for a particular golden songbird, his unspoken affection lingering like a shadow.

Killen and Kaxim would nudge him, grinning and with smirks.

‘When will you finally make her yours, Kione?’ they asked.

His face flushed with embarrassment before he grumbled a halfhearted, unintelligible reply.

‘Who’d a thought the flamboyant Kione is shy?’ Kaxim once growled,

‘Fokk off, cloaca,’ came his best mate’s response.

The tic on Kione’s jaw and his flare in lodestone signaled he didn’t want to discuss the matter further.

Life in Ilkana settled into a rhythm of prosperity and happiness as time passed.

Despite the battles and challenges, Liana and Kaxim found their way as rulers and partners.

They flew together, their wings cutting through the skies, keeping watch over Ilkan.

Below, their people would look up in awe at the sight of their Kwen? and her warrior Djuik soaring high. Above the kingdom they’d fought so hard to protect, their love forged in the fires of war, growing stronger daily.