A shadow fell across her, and the next thing she knew, a dark-winged angel fell from the sky.

Except this one looked more like a demon than an angel, with his black leathery wings and the fierce mask-like markings around his eyes and across his cheeks.

And he didn’t exactly fall, it was more of a deadly, graceful swoop.

Calexa’s mouth fell open. Her hand dropped to her gun, freezing mid-draw as her mind exploded.

The winged one was coming straight for her.

Beside her, Ares growled, his tail tightening possessively around her waist.

Above her, Ares growled.

“W-what the fuck?” she whispered.

There were two of him. Two violet and black aliens, both identical, but with one major difference. One had wings, and the other didn’t, and the winged one was about to collide with…

Oh, holy hell.

A rush of warm air surrounded them.

All hell broke loose.

Ares-from-the-sky landed behind them and yanked other Ares back by his hair, curling a powerful arm around the Vradhu’s neck. He snarled viciously in Vradhu as he tightened his arm, choking his opponent.

Wingless Ares responded with an equal amount of vitriol, releasing his grip on Calexa. He flipped his war-spear and thrust it into the other Vradhu’s chest.

The bone-bladed weapon glanced off Ares’s glittering scaly armor. The demon grunted in pain, but he wasn’t deterred. He maneuvered his leg in that tricky wrestling move—the one he’d used to bring Calexa down—and sent the other Ares toppling to the ground.

This was nuts. Insanity. She was getting confused. Ares versus Ares? Impossible!

But then it was no coincidence that they’d watched the so-called dagger in the sky disappear over the horizon. Shortly afterwards, there had been a loud boom, and a thick plume of smoke and ash had risen into the sky.

The ship had crashed, and then this winged Vradhu had appeared.

“Hey!” Calexa yelled, as the two powerful warriors started grappling on the ground, punching each other in the face and torso. The wingless one grabbed ahold of one of Ares’s wings and snapped.

It all happened so quickly. Too stunned to react, the other Vradhu warriors gaped as Maki ran toward the fighting doppelgängers. They fought viciously, savagely, with hand and tooth and claw. Blinded by rage, their battle was primal and visceral, lacking the deadly grace she’d witnessed from Ares in the past.

Bright crimson blood splattered across the moss-covered ground.

“Hey!” Calexa bellowed, forgetting about the sheer improbability of the situation. She just wanted this stupid fighting to stop.

Locked in their ridiculous, testosterone-fueled death-brawl, the two Vradhu completely ignored her.

That incensed her.

If they were both Ares, then why were they even fucking fighting? That was just stupid.

“Hey!” Calexa pulled out her gun and fired a deafening particle-blast into the air. Several of the Vradhu yelled out in fear and dropped to the ground. In the distance, a flock of bird-like creatures rose into the sky, squawking loudly.

Mai and Zahra came running out of the Medusa with their weapons raised. Calexa held up a hand. Hold.

Predictably, the insane purple ones ignored the shot, their attacks becoming more and more ferocious. They moved so fast they became a blur; a savage, bloody maelstrom of violet and black. She could no longer tell where one Ares ended and the other began.

All this fighting over… her?

Calexa groaned and shook her head as a sneaking suspicion dawned on her. If clone-Ares had been with her the whole time, then other Ares must be…

The one from the Hythra.

The original.

But… how? He was back to his Vradhu form. The only sign that he’d ever been Drakhin were the ominous black wings curving from his upper back.

Whether Vradhu or Drakhin or somewhere in-between, it didn’t matter. He was as fierce as ever.

If they kept going at this rate, they would tear each other apart.

Ugh! This had to be the most blatant display of male stupidity she’d ever come across in her entire life. Calexa didn’t waste time. She ran forward and leapt into the fray, pushing herself right between the two aggressive, warring Vradhu.

Instinctively, she just knew this was the right thing to do, and she wasn’t afraid.

“Stop!” The effect was instantaneous. It was as if the two warriors were a raging torrent, and she was the magical sorceress who could turn it all to ice with a single fucking touch.

Time stopped.

In mid-attack, they froze.

Teeth bared, they froze.

With their tails curled around her waist, they froze, staring each other down.

“Don’t touch her,” they said in unison. Their voices were eerily identical. “She’s mine.”

Calexa glanced down and saw both their tails looped around her narrow waist. Black velvet shifted and tightened, and the two warriors growled. They both tried to pull her toward them, but despite the ferocity of their glares, they were surprisingly gentle with her. Winged Ares was in front. He placed a large hand on her shoulder.

In response, Young Ares snarled. He was behind her, his bare torso pressing against the contours of her back. After hunting down the kratok, he’d stripped off his hide-armor and disappeared into a small thicket of red trees to have a spring-shower, whatever that was. It occurred to her that the low, rumbling sound she’d thought of as a purr could also be a menacing growl.

Now they were both rumbling, and she was stuck in the middle of her very own hot, angry Vradhu muscle sandwich, complete with tails and wings and growly purring sounds.

Before she’d met Ares, she would never have jumped between two big, angry males. She would have let them beat one another to a pulp, not caring if they killed each other, or she would have pulled out her PX-45 and shot them.

Now she was about to be Calexa the Peacemaker, because she actually cared about Ares—both of them. Ha. Who would have thought? Her heart slammed against her metal-bound ribcage as the Vradhu warriors faced off, neither giving the other any quarter.

They were both so damn close. Heat radiated off their bodies, encircling her in a warm cocoon of intoxicating male musk. Broad chests heaved. Muscular arms flexed. Tails tightened.

And despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Calexa became enthralled all over again.

“I am the eldest,” Winged Ares said, his black eyes flashing. Somehow, all of the Drakhin silver had disappeared from his gaze. “I found her first.” His jaw jutted out at a stubborn angle.

“The human and I are already mated,” Young Ares said smugly.

“What?” Dark wings rose into the air. “Naaga-made whelp! I will fucking kill—” A hand shot out, somehow managing to avoid Calexa altogether. It went straight for Young Ares’s neck.

The other warrior didn’t dodge. After all, he was still stubbornly holding onto Calexa. “H-how are you going to kill me without hurting her?” His voice was a hoarse wheeze. “Are you fucking crazy, old man?” With his foot, he kicked up his war-spear. As it jumped into the air, he snatched it with his free hand, bringing the tip to Winged Ares’s neck. The razor-sharp point hovered just above his pulsating artery.

“Enough!” Calexa snapped, grabbing both their tails and pulling the coils apart. To her surprise, neither Vradhu offered much resistance. “I refuse to let you fools kill each other over me. You’re just going to have to share.”

Silence. Nobody moved, but Winged Ares’s dark eyes widened a fraction as they roamed over her face. She didn’t yet understand how his dual existence was possible, but she couldn’t deny the warm spark of familiarity that rose between them.

Impossibly, his harsh, obsidian-painted features softened.

“Sh-share?” They spoke in unison, their identical voices merging to become one. The effect was truly spooky. She shivered, but not in an unpleasant way.

“It’s obvious that something went wrong…” She paused, her thoughts racing. Being caught between two hard male Vradhu bodies made it terribly difficult to think straight. “Or maybe something went right, and now we’re stuck with two of you. You’re both Ares, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She removed their tails from around her body and stepped out of the Vradhu sandwich before she lost her mind.

Two of them?

One was already a fucking handful, and now she had two big, angry Vradhu males to deal with?

The thought left her somewhere between a swoon and an exasperated sigh.

“Cal…” Zahra spoke through the comm as she waved from the Medusa. “Are you, um, is everything, uh, I mean…” For once, wise-ass Zahra sounded unsure of herself. “What the fuck is going on? Do you want me to shoot someone, or not?”

“Whatever you do, don’t fucking shoot,” she whispered, fearing Vradhu chaos.

At the same time, she couldn’t help but be awed by what she was seeing.

Now the two versions of Ares stood side-by-side, staring at her. The similarities were striking, but at the same time, nobody could confuse the two.

Winged Ares was bleeding from a cut on his cheek, but that didn’t seem to bother him. His wings were neatly tucked behind his back— even though she swore one of them had been broken—and although the silver scales of the Drakhin had disappeared from his skin, he still wore the scaly Drakhin armor from the Hythra.

Young Ares’s honed body was on proud display. His wild black hair had come loose from its topknot, framing the elegant lines of his face with an unruly tangle of chaos. The dark markings on his cheeks were slightly lighter than Winged Ares’s, and his features were a little bit smoother, with fewer scars and lines.

He was fresh out of the temundra, unmarked by the ravages of life, and yet he’d brought down one of those beasts—a supremely dangerous kratok—with terrifying ease.

As a result of Winged One’s attack, he was bleeding from an ugly gash in his side.

“Share,” Calexa said again, feeling a little more sure of herself this time. “If either of you want me, then you have to understand that I only want Ares, and if you’re both Ares, then I want you both, and I won’t have one without the other.”

She blinked. Fuck. What the hell had she just said?

Ares glanced at Ares. They shared a long, indecipherable look. Blood dripped onto the moss. Fists unclenched. Tails returned to their resting places—around the left leg.

Nobody—not even the rest of the Vradhu, who were standing around them in a ring with expressions of shock and horror on their faces—dared lift a finger.

Tension thickened the air, and suddenly, Calexa found it hard to breathe.

Oblivious to the tense standoff, some hidden alien water-creature emitted a loud sound that was halfway between a bellow and a croak, splitting the silence.

“Makes sense,” they both said. “Very well. I will share.”

Calexa almost melted in relief. Perhaps this was what it was like when two alpha males both wanted someone to themselves.

But this was a little different. “You’re the same person, aren’t you?”

Each Vradhu regarded the other with an inscrutable expression. “We share the same memories. Before we diverged, we were the same being.”

“This barely-blooded youngling needs to learn to respect his elders,” Wings growled.

“I remember each and every one of our kills,” Young Blood retorted. “I am as much khefe as you are, old man.”

“You think you can wear the title just because you have downed a youngling kratok? Let me remind you, whelp, that you are still unbeaded, and your ankhata are lighter than mine.”

“Calexa did not seem to mind,” Young Blood said, giving her a sly wink.

Calexa fought to keep her expression neutral as memories of their heated lovemaking flooded her mind.

Stars, what have I gotten myself into?

Wings bared his teeth.

Calexa became aware of Maki’s presence. The warrior-chief stood a respectful distance from her, his arms folded across his bare chest. He inclined his head, frowning. “By Aethra’s cursed abyss, Ares-rai. Is the Goddess finished with you yet? What is she going to do next? Make you grow two heads?”

The two Areses shrugged in perfect unison.

“The clan elders are going to have a fit.”

“What is the issue? We Vradhu are a race of twins, are we not? They will just have to accept us, the same way we accept our duty as Hunters.” They bared their teeth. “With all their wisdom, they should know not to test us.”

“Change is long overdue,” Maki said cryptically, glancing over his shoulder at the Medusa. “We still have many challenges ahead of us, my brother… uh, brothers.”

As Maki and Ares’s odd conversation flew over her head, a muffled boom reverberated through the air, coming from the direction of the Medusa. Alarm shot through her. She glanced at her warriors, who both gave her a sharp nod.

Go.

Calexa turned toward her ship and ran.

Moments later, smoke billowed from the airlock. Terrified, coughing women ran outside, guided by S, Zahra, and Mai.

“What the hell?” Calexa shouted as she reached the boarding ramp.

“I could say that a thousand times over and not get a satisfactory answer,” Mai yelled, competing with the sounds of disorder.

A familiar shadow emerged through the grey smoke.

Monroe.

Despite his size, Monroe moved with silent grace—a dead giveaway for his Primean ancestry. Where Raphael was elegant and lean, Monroe was just damn intimidating; a study in thick, sculpted muscle. The various pockets and extensions on his cabin-suit failed to hide the power lurking in his big frame, and his proud features were accentuated by the fact that he wore his hair shaved close to his scalp.

He reminded Calexa of a character from some ancient mythical Earth tale; a burnished god from the desert sands of North Africa.

Or something like that.

In truth, aside from the fact that she’d hidden Raphael and Monroe from the Primean authorities after they’d broken out of their prison transport—which had mysteriously developed a catastrophic engine breakdown—she knew very little about the twins.

Not that it mattered. They’d proven their worth time and time again.

“Powerbank’s fucked,” he grunted. Monroe was a man of few words.

“What do you mean, it’s fucked?”

Monroe fixed her with an unblinking stare, his emerald eyes glowing through the faint haze of smoke. “The odds of us ever getting off this planet are slim.”

“You mean… we’re stranded?” Somehow, the news didn’t disturb her as much as it should have.

“Better here than out there.” Monroe nodded toward the heavens as he turned to go back inside. “If you hadn’t made the call to land, we would have been drifting out in space. I’ve put out a distress signal, but…” With a shrug of his broad shoulders, he disappeared back into the shadowy corridors of the ship, his voice becoming a faint echo. “Powerbanks would have gone offline sooner or later, anyway…”

Calexa shuddered as Monroe confirmed her suspicions. They’d come so close to certain death, only to be saved by an unlikely alliance.

Human and Vradhu.

Could it work? As Calexa turned and headed out of the airlock, an icy wind whipped up out of nowhere, clearing the stifling chemical-tinged smoke. Dark clouds appeared above them, blotting out the cerulean sky.

Shit. That was sudden. Was the weather on Khira always this unpredictable?

Hard white balls of ice dropped out of the sky with unexpected ferocity. Some were the size of her thumbnail, while others were the size of her fist. In the moss-covered clearing below, the women from S’s retinue cowered down, covering their heads with their arms.

They yelled out in fright and pain as the brutal torrent of hard ice pummeled them from above. Calexa glanced back at the Medusa. They couldn’t go back in there. Smoke was still pouring out of the airlock. She didn’t know how the twins were tolerating the conditions inside, but they had superior Primean genetics on their side.

Calexa winced as a particularly large ice-ball hit her in the back.

Suddenly, the Vradhu surrounded the women, shielding them with their armored bodies. Maki pointed at a thicket of crimson trees, and they ran.

Zahra and Mai followed. “Gonna make a run for it, Cal. I’ve heard it happens on Earth, but I’ve never seen fucking ice falling out of the sky before.”

A leathery black wing curved over her head, and suddenly Ares was there, shielding her. “The Shadowring is gone.” His low, velvety voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. “The Balance has been disrupted. The weather is changing. Everything is changing.” Even though his left wing was obviously broken, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he pulled her against him, his muscular arms curving around her waist.

Surrounded by her powerful male, Calexa became boneless, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. She just wanted him to pick her up in his arms and take her somewhere quiet… somewhere they could be alone.

“Where’s—” Your other half? Oh, this was going to be interesting. Already, she could sense the slight differences in the two Vradhu. Winged One appeared older—she supposed the human equivalent would be a man in his thirties—and he was a little bit rough around the edges; a little more tarnished by the ravages of life. Young Blood was impulsive and proud, and on the surface, he seemed easier to read.

But they were both Ares, and therefore she had no choice but to love them both.

“My counterpart was more badly injured than he let on,” Ares murmured. “He has gone to tend to his wounds.” He shifted his good wing as a fresh torrent of ice rained down upon them.

“Is he okay? You’re hurt too, aren’t you?”

“Minor wounds.” Even though the cut across his cheek was still fresh, Ares dismissed her concerns. “He is fine. I am fine, and we have come to an agreement.” He pressed his lips against her ear, caressing her earlobe with his mouth. As ice-bombs crashed all around them, he gently sucked on that tender nub of skin. “We will share you, cherish you, and protect you, because he and I are one and the same, and nothing is more important to us than you.”

Calexa became oblivious to the bizarre weather outside. Ares’s body itself was a shield; a warm cocoon of safety that she never wanted to leave.

How incredible it was that these proud Vradhu could turn her from a fierce warrior-woman to a hapless, besotted lover in a heartbeat.

Into the kind of person she never thought she’d become.

Only Ares could have done it. It had taken someone as fucking batshit crazy as she was to crack open her messed up exterior and remind her that she had once been a woman with needs and desires.

“I have waited so long for this,” he whispered, his warm breath sending pleasant ripples over her scalp and down her neck. “When I was infected with the ilverium, I was so tempted to take you into my arms and absorb every last drop of your vir, but I knew that it would kill you, so I held back, contenting myself with your nearness. I have never known another like you, Calexa-from-another-world. I truly believe that fate brought you here, and that we were made for one another.” He kissed her on the cheek with molten lips. “It appears I have already claimed you, but you have not yet tasted this body of mine, my sweet, sweet makivari.”

“No, I haven’t.” I want to. Desire shot through her, potent and unfettered. Memories of the past—of her unspeakable torment at the hands of the Khral—had no hold on her now.

Ares was the antidote.

The Khral slavers had no power here.

The authorities of Dashki-5 had no power here.

On Khira, she was truly free.

“Believe me, this body is better,” Ares growled.

“Oh?” Calexa raised a sly eyebrow. “Believe me, I’m quite impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You both have your charms.”

“Since you are talking about my body, I will take that as a compliment.” Calexa gasped as Ares swept her into his arms and carried her across the clearing. The hailstorm eased; instead of fist-sized balls of ice, they were now being pelted with rain. Well, at least Ares was—his wings formed a watertight umbrella that kept her safe and dry.

“What about the others?” Escorted by the Vradhu warriors, the human women had disappeared into a stand of crimson-leaved trees. Concern for her passengers sliced through the blissful haze of her arousal. The humans didn’t speak Vradhu, and the Vradhu didn’t speak Earthian.

The potential for disaster sent a chill through her.

“Do not worry. They will be well looked after.”

“You sure about that?” She trusted Ares implicitly, but these other Vradhu were an unknown quantity. From what she’d observed, they answered to Maki.

Ares didn’t answer to anyone. He worked alone.

“Maki tells me the skilled healers amongst your clan tended their wounds without hesitation, without discrimination.”

“T-they did?”

“Healers are sacred to us, but if that is not enough to reassure you, remember that I made a vow. Your people are under my protection. Believe me, they are safe with the pack.” His arms tightened around her as they shot past the grove of trees. Smooth white rocks appeared on the moss-and-ice covered ground, becoming larger and more abundant as they formed the borders of a glowing blue stream. Water cascaded over the rocks as they coalesced into a sculptural formation; a tower of egg-shaped boulders that was twice her height. Sprays of color emerged between the rocks in the form of fern-like plants with colorful foliage— shades of red, pink, purple, and green illustrated the landscape like dashes from an artist’s brush. All around the stream, the hail-ice was melting. Steam rose off the surface of the water, ephemeral and enticing.

Calexa had visited many planets in the Fiveways, but she’d never come across anything as spectacular as this.

“Khira is beautiful, is it not?” A hint of pride entered Ares’s voice.

The hailstorm had stopped. He lowered his wings, allowing a sudden shaft of brilliant sunlight to caress her face.

It had been such a long time since she’d felt the warmth of a real sun on her face.

How glorious.

Ares carried her with ease, nimbly stepping around the large boulders, never missing a beat as he crossed the flowing stream, and carrying her through a warm haze of mist. They reached a stone path bordered on both sides by boggy marsh. The muddy ground bristled with purple reeds, and tiny star-shaped yellow flowers opened and closed as they passed, as if responding to Ares’s swift movement.

Everything about Khira was novel and fascinating. It was a completely new world.

They crossed the small patch of marsh. The mist cleared.

“Here we are.” Ares gently set her on her feet. As she glanced around, a gentle breeze tickled her face. Water surrounded them. They were at the farthest tip of the island, on a narrow peninsula that emerged into the endless water.

At the very end of the peninsula, a sleek structure jutted out from the land, propped up by narrow stilts. It was the color of Earthian beach-sand, and with its pitched roof and intricately carved details, it reminded her of an ancient Earth house. At each end of the roof, a leaf-shaped statue curled elegantly into the sky, as if beckoning the gods.

Long, narrow boats gently bobbed up-and-down in the water beneath the longhouse.

Wow.

The Vradhu were surprisingly un-technological. There wasn’t a single machine or transport or synth-dwelling to be seen. If she hadn’t known anything about them, she might have called them primitive.

But now that she knew Ares, she couldn’t think any less of him.

He followed her gaze, his expression noble and fierce and utterly entrancing. “This is just one of our many hunting lodges, where we store rations and moor the longboats. It is a place of healing and rest, and this particular lodge was built by me. You are most welcome under my roof, Calexa-from-Fiveways.”

Ba-bump. Her heart skipped a beat. As if reading her thoughts, Ares chuckled. “We are alone now.” His fingers twined with hers.

The wind stirred the surface of the water, causing the longboats to gently knock together in a rhythmic fashion. Melting ice glistened on the ground. Overhead, a winged creature soared, and the tall reeds at the water’s edge rustled and swayed.

Silence.

Punctuated only by the sounds of nature.

Peace.

That’s what she’d stumbled upon.

Calexa closed her eyes and inhaled the clean, fragrant air.

For the first time in her life, there was stillness in her soul.

They stood like that for a while, enjoying the quiet. Then a door in the side of the lodge slid open, and Ares walked outside.

Ares.

There.

Here.

Young One’s black eyes burned with delicious desire. He wore nothing but a pair of dark trousers that were slung low on his hips. Despite the grey bandages crisscrossing his waist, he moved with his usual fluid grace.

As he reached them, he came dangerously close to her, his tail reflexively uncoiling from around his left leg.

Winged One didn’t move from her side as Young One planted a slow, lingering kiss on her lips.

His sinuous, velvety tail slid up-and-down her body, marking her. “You are mine,” he whispered.

Expecting a fight, Calexa stiffened, but Winged One just ran his long fingers across the back of her neck, massaging her biometal spine.

Her pain receptors might have been dulled, but her ability to feel pleasure was still intact. Caught between these two fierce aliens, all she could do was take a deep breath and shudder.

The winds of her strange fate blew around her, pulling her in the most unexpected direction, and for once in her life, she didn’t resist.

She let out a slow, shuddering sigh and allowed the Vradhu to do their thing, forgetting about the chaos they’d left behind. “Wh-what’s changed? Not too long ago, you were both ready to kill each other over me.”

“The sight of you with another set my blood on fire,” Winged One admitted. “I was blinded by rage. All I knew was that I wanted to kill him.”

“He started it,” Young One murmured. “All I knew was that he was trying to take you from me, and I wanted to kill him.”

“There isn’t really room for two of us,” Wings locked eyes with his other, and some silent communication passed between them. “But if we continued to fight, one of us would certainly die, and then the Two Clans would lose a khefe.”

“Khefe means…?”

“He Who Hunts Alone. In the Two Clans, only I hold this right.”

“Because you’re such a bad-ass?”

“Indeed.” As usual, Ares had no concept of humility. “The world is on the cusp of change, my makivari. It would be selfish of me to deprive my people of a khefe, and it would be brutish of me to put you through the loss of a mate.”

“We could not do it,” Young One added. The way their conversation flowed—naturally, seamlessly, as if a single person were talking—was uncanny. “After we came so close to losing everything, we could not deprive you of what is yours. Therefore, you will have both of us—if you so choose.”

Both Vradhu went still as they held her, expectantly awaiting her answer. Winged One held the back of her neck, and Young One embraced her with his dangerous tail.

“Idiots. The moment I stepped between your warring asses was the moment I accepted the situation for what it is.” The words that tumbled from her mouth were imbued with a disbelieving kind of glee. “Maybe you Vradhu are rubbing off on me.” The way they just went with the flow—as if life itself were one great torrent and they were canny fish, darting through the slipstream—was so very Vradhu.

“You have the soul of a Hunter,” Winged One whispered. He exerted gentle pressure on the back of her neck, pushing her forward. Young One released her and stepped aside.

They walked toward the hunting lodge.

“Come,” Ares said, their voices melding into one.

As if in a trance, Calexa moved, the melting ice crunching beneath her slipper-clad feet.

“My turn,” Ares whispered, encircling her waist with his devilish tail.