Epilogue I

The deep darkness begins to subside.

I can’t remember anything—not who I am, what I am, or what happened. I only know that I feel exhausted yet lighter—empty, even. Something doesn’t feel right. As my eyes peel open to find a familiar spotlight on the pristine white ceiling, it’s as if my brain suddenly switches back on.

Thousands of moments come flooding back in, and I can barely breathe as I live through an entire life in the span of a few seconds.

My earliest memory as a kid is giggling on my daddy’s shoulders. His face slowly fading away. My mom’s, too. It’s been so long since I’ve seen either of them, my family, my friends, my planet.

Umok’s grin comes into focus. The starship. The strange fluid he made us take unlocked our brains’ ability to understand their language. The disaster we crash-landed into. The civil war on Sunna. The plague and the horrible death it inflicted upon its victims. The turmoil. The fear.

The fighting. Oh, the endless fighting.

And Yossul. Fadai. The looks on their faces when they first saw us, human women, foreigners in their land. Creatures from outer space. They were stunned but not scared. Curious but not greedy. They weren’t heathens like Umok and his men. They took care of us. They sheltered us. Me. They loved me, and I grew to love them.

My heart starts racing.

“Wait,” I mumble. “My water broke.”

I remember that now: the pregnancy, the peace that followed the war, the Sky Tribe’s last starship exploding, Shaytan Hull breathing his last breath.

I look around, a sense of alarm coming over me. Blood turns to ice in my veins as I glance down and see my wrist punctured with an IV drip. My belly is flatter than I remember it. My legs feel soft, like boiled spaghetti. My lips dry.

“My babies,” I manage, my voice barely audible.

The door opens. Cynthia comes in, wearing a white robe. Relief washes over me at the sight of her. My anchor. My doctor. My best friend. She smiles softly as she rushes to my bedside.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Jewel,” she says. “You’re okay. You’re awake.”

“What happened? My water broke.”

I was in the middle of a briefing. Yossul and Fadai had arranged for Sunna’s highest-ranking generals to meet us in the dining room of our house one morning since I was too heavy to travel even across the street at that point.

I remember the generals” stunned looks when they realized what was happening. Yossul and Fadai, too, were wide-eyed and paralyzed for the first few seconds.

“Yes, it did,” Cynthia says, gently caressing my cheek. “There were some complications, honey. I had to put you under so I could perform a c-section.”

“My babies,” I reply, panic gripping me by the throat.

“They’re okay, Jewel. Three healthy baby girls, each the size of a torpedo,” she says, half-joking. “You wouldn’t have been able to deliver them naturally. I had to cut you open.”

“Where are they?”

“I’ll have them brought in,” she says. “But you need to be aware…” Her humor fades as she stares at me for a moment too long.

“What? What is it?”

“You gave us quite the scare. It’s been three weeks since the girls were born. I gave you a mild anesthetic, but you reacted poorly to it. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for so long.”

It’s as if the whole sky of Sunna has just dropped on my head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure what happened, but you were in a deep coma. Your vitals were slow, way too slow. I pumped you full of Sunna’s inner fire, as well, and nothing,” Cynthia replies. “For a minute there, I wasn’t sure you were going to pull through.”

My worst fear would’ve come true, then. I would’ve died, and I never would’ve had a chance to be with my babies and my men, to watch my daughters grow into beautiful, fierce hybrid women. I would’ve missed out on so much on everything, and I wouldn’t have been the wiser, either.

It’s funny how death can put things into such a clear and striking perspective. And all I did was brush right past it.

Cynthia measures my vitals again, her eyes darting curiously across the screen. “I’ll take some blood samples and run some tests, but you’re looking good now,” she says. I’m just glad you’re back—so glad.”

“Yeah, me, too,” I sigh deeply, trying to understand a near-death experience I can’t remember. “Yossul, Fadai?”

“They’ve been here nonstop.” She groans and rolls her eyes, feigning frustration. “I had to clear a private reserve for them to sleep in. They’ve been taking turns watching over you and looking after the girls, too. I never imagined I’d see that soft side of theirs… too sweet, even for my taste.”

I can’t help but laugh lightly.

Moments later, Yossul and Fadai burst through the door, all starry-eyed and relieved. Without a single word, they shower me with love and affection and a flurry of kisses, whispering everything they’ve been dying to tell me.

“You’d better not do this again,” Yossul warns, his brow furrowed. “The scare you gave us, baby…”

“It’s not like I planned it,” I shoot back with an innocent shrug.

“Hey, cut her some slack,” Fadai tells his brother. “She’s okay, she’s awake. Let’s put the whole thing behind us, huh?” He turns to smile at me. “Welcome back, my love. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you how she’s holding up,” Cynthia says as she reenters the room. I didn’t even notice her leave, but my heart expands at the sight of her pushing a big cart. My babies are neatly swaddled in the finest white fabric and sleeping soundly on top of it. “She’s been dying to see these three little miracles, so move out of the way. Coming through,” she adds in a softer voice.

“Oh, my God...” I burst into tears, suddenly overwhelmed with so much love that it might make my heart explode altogether. You’re so right; they’re perfect.”

Three pink-skinned angels with bright red eyes and tufts of curly black hair. They’re definitely bigger than a human baby, which leaves me speechless since I carried them in my womb for seven whole months. No wonder I was so sluggish and tired all the time. But they’re so beautiful; I feel their life emanating within me, their little heartbeats echoing mine. Their tiny fists balled as they rest in sweet silence, their chests rising with each breath.

I see my nose on each of them. Bits and pieces of me and their fathers settling like a perfectly designed puzzle. They’re the best of both worlds, and I know they’re going to make us so happy and so proud.

Their strength resounds through every fiber of my body. I only hope they get more of Fadai’s warm nature, more of Yossul’s stoicism, and all of my spunk.

“Oh, they’re going to be such adorable handfuls,” I laugh and cry at the same time.

Fadai, Yossul, and Cynthia gingerly pick each of them up so I can hold them. It’s hard to do this with three babies, but my men stay close to make sure our angels rest comfortably in my arms and on my chest. My breasts feel tender, filled with mother’s milk. I can’t wait to feed them, watch them grow and see them go on to live the most incredible lives.

“You were incredible,” Yossul tells me. “You carried them with such strength and grace.”

“We’ll be okay,” Fadai says. “The hardest part’s over. You’re all right, baby. We’re all right.”

“We are, aren’t we? We did it,” I manage, tears of sheer joy rolling down my cheeks.

Cynthia can’t help but laugh. “Until they start walking. Then you’re all screwed.”

We burst into laughter just as the door opens again. Suddenly, the room is flooded with familiar faces. Our families have gathered for this momentous occasion, each of them carrying flowers and gifts for us, each of them so genuinely happy to see me awake.

Amber with Izzo and Binzen. Kai and Maur. Alicia with Helios and Kharo. Their kids are all gleeful and chatty, cooing and babbling, while Valen, the poor sport, tries to keep the older ones in check.

It’s hard and messy and loud. My girls wake up because of the noise, but I don’t mind it one bit because now they get to see me, to meet me, their mom. Time flows differently now that they’re born.

“What are their names?” Alicia asks.

“Oh, that’s easy!” I am beaming with excitement, unable to take my eyes off my daughters as I officially introduce them to the world. “This here is Emm. And this is Ket. And Essa.”

Yossul smiles broadly. “Our precious moons.”

One minute, you’re skinny-dipping in the Atlantic Ocean after a night out with the girls, and the next, you’re zapped onto a starship and carted off to another planet. I wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Every minute has counted. Every minute has changed my life and my character for the better.

And every minute that comes after this… well, it’s the most precious minute I will have ever lived through.