When Maeve climbed up the steps to the old Victorian, ash from the volcanic eruption still coated the veranda—like it did most other surfaces in the greater Portland area, as well as large parts of north Oregon and south Washington. It would take weeks, if not months to clean up the mess, the devastation horrifyingly similar to the eruption of Mount St. Helens in 1980.

And yet the human population was still blissfully oblivious to the far-reaching consequences of that blast. Arawn had snared the dragon while they were all huddled on the mountain slope of fire and ash, and he made sure to impress upon the beast to stay hidden from human eyes for now. Arawn’s territory offered more than enough room for the dragon to roam without being seen by humans, and, as with the griffin, he’d also cast a glamour on the ancient beast to further conceal it from non-otherworld creatures, should it venture past his borders.

How long that secrecy would last was anyone’s guess. The eventual discovery by humans of the awakening of the Old Ones loomed as a certainty on the horizon—it was only a matter of when, not if.

For the time being, however, Arawn agreed it would cause catastrophic panics and unpredictable defensive maneuvers among human authorities, as well as the general population, should the knowledge of what was going on spread beyond the otherworld communities. And even in the circles of supernatural beings, word of what exactly was happening had yet to pass through the grapevine.

Had Merle heard news about it? Making sure her sister was up-to-date with developments that would shake up the world was one of the reasons Maeve now stood on the doorstep to their shared childhood home the day after the dragon awoke. She could have simply called, sure, or she could have invited Merle to travel to Arawn’s lair as she recently did.

Some revelations, though, were better delivered in person, and with the added gesture of paying a visit instead of asking someone to come to you.

She told Merle in a quick phone call that she was coming, thanks to Lucía, who’d survived the Velez attack with a few broken bones and scratches that healed quickly due to her demon and shifter natures. She made sure Maeve got a new cell this morning.

After ringing the doorbell, Maeve now threw a glance at the silent shadow of unadulterated power at her back.

Arawn inclined his head, his eyes of evergreen depths searing with an intensity that made her knees wobble. “I will wait outside.”

“Thank you.” She grasped his hand before he turned, gave it a quick squeeze.

A ping of white-hot love along the newly forged bond between them, and then he strolled down the steps to loom in the front yard like darkness given form. And, oh, how she adored that form.

The door opened at that moment, and Maeve’s attention flicked back to—the male demon holding the door for her.

She inhaled sharply. “Rhun. Hi. I’m so glad and relieved you’re back.” Merle had told her on the phone, very briefly, that they’d managed to free Rhun from Juneau’s clutches.

“Maeve. I’m glad you’re still in one piece.” He glanced at the dark presence that was a caress against her back…even though Arawn stood about a yard away.

She sighed inwardly, yet she couldn’t fault Rhun—and the others—for thinking just like she once did…for expecting the worst of Arawn, when the reality of him was a surprise she would never have been able to predict in a million years.

Rhun stepped aside and gestured her in, eyeing the Demon Lord as she walked by. Raising a brow, he asked, “Should I get him some water? In a bowl? He’s not in the habit of digging up stuff, is he?” He closed the door, tilted his head with a long-suffering sigh. “Please tell me he’s at least yard-broken. I just redid the landscaping out front—I’m really not in the mood for more replanting.”

A grin threatened to take over her face. “I get how you make Merle laugh all the time.”

He winked at her just as Merle emerged from the downstairs bathroom.

“Sorry,” her sister said, her face a bit pale. “Morning sickness taking its toll…” She stopped short for a second when she saw Maeve, then pulled her into a crushing hug that lasted several heartbeats.

“It’s so good to see you,” Merle whispered when they finally broke apart.

“You too.” Maeve blinked away her tears while following her sister into the living room where they sat on the couch.

Rhun had apparently disappeared somewhere in the house while they were hugging, leaving them to talk in private.

Merle told her about Rhun’s rescue, how she’d bound Juneau in the Shadows—a fitting punishment, if there ever was one—and how the witch community now scrambled to find its footing in the aftermath. And how—because she didn’t have a choice—Merle had used her magic to tip the scales of the fight, incurring the risk of having to pay back to the Powers That Be soon…and thus jeopardizing her baby.

Maeve swallowed hard, her chest pinching tight. Arawn, she reached out mentally along a pathway he always kept open for her. If a witch pledged allegiance to you, and you granted her access to the layers of the world, you’d be in charge of demanding payback, wouldn’t you?

Yes, came the answer without hesitation.

Would you be able to postpone that payback for a while?

He took a moment to reply this time. That is possible, yes. She was about to turn her attention back to her conversation with Merle when he added, It could be more painful if delayed, but pushing it back by, say, eight to nine months should not be a problem.

She almost smiled at his instant offer, but that would not have been the right reaction to what Merle just said, so she bit it back. She’d have to tell Merle…in a moment. First, there was something else she had to get out in the open. Something that might—or might not—smooth the way to enticing Merle to switch her allegiance.

As it turned out, Merle gave her the perfect opening when she composed herself after revealing the new risk to her pregnancy, and said, with a shaky smile, “Tell me how you’re doing.”

Maeve cleared her throat. Where to start, where to start…? She’d been racking her brain for the best way to break any one of the overwhelming news items to Merle, the most benign of which—her relationship with Arawn—might already be enough to give her sister a heart attack. She had to be smart about phrasing it and—

“I’m in love with Arawn, and we’re bonded. Like mates.”

Or she could simply blurt it out. Awesome.

Merle blinked, her body gone motionless. “Come again?”

Anxiety fired along Maeve’s nerves, made her fidget and shift her weight. “We’re together. In a relationship. He loves me, I love him, and we share a…mating bond. Kind of.”

A hollow sadness filled her chest in anticipation of Merle’s reaction. Oh, Maeve’s unparalleled ability to overthink everything and anything had made sure a merry variety of possible scenarios buzzed in her brain, and she’d already pulled up defensive walls around her heart for the worst one imaginable.

If Merle now accused Arawn of manipulating Maeve into falling in love with him, or worse, compelling her to be with him through the magical custody bond he used to have over her, Maeve wouldn’t even flinch. Much. She braced herself for the impact, reminding herself that however hurtful that kind of reaction might be, it came from a place of love and protectiveness from her sister.

A sister who currently stared at her out of sky-blue eyes gone wide, her mouth hanging open. Maeve tried to think of a moment when she’d seen Merle as blankly shocked as she seemed now. Failed. Nope, this was the most gobsmacked Merle had ever been in Maeve’s presence.

Maeve was beginning to think she’d broken something essential in her sister’s mind with her revelation when Merle blinked again, closed her mouth, shook her head as if to clear it and whispered, “You’re happy.”

Maeve’s breath hitched, her eyes prickling hot. “Yes. I am.”

Tears shimmered in Merle’s eyes as she reached out and touched Maeve’s face with a trembling hand. “Is he… He’s…” She frowned, shook her head again. “He’s good for you.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, but even so, it sounded more like an astonished realization that perfectly mirrored the confusion in Merle’s expression.

“You’re glowing,” Merle added in a whisper.

Maeve raised a hand to her own face, to that scar that was still so prominent—now maybe even more so because of the way it shone as if lit from within. “Oh. Yes. That. Um, I’ll explain it in a bit.”

Merle shook her head again. “No. I mean, yes, I do need you to…explain that. But I meant that—you’re radiant. As in, you’re happy like you haven’t been since…” Her brows drew together. “No, scratch that. I have never seen you this happy.”

Maeve gave in to the smile that wanted to steal across her face, and lowered her eyes. “He really is good to me, you know. I understand it might be hard for you to imagine, because you haven’t seen that side of him. But he’s…the best thing that could have happened to me.”

Merle’s jaw slowly dropped again as she regarded her for a moment. “I may not know that side of him,” she said carefully, “but I know to trust my senses. And everything I see and sense in you tells me you’re thriving. There’s just no way to fake that kind of thing. Which means it’s true.” She blinked, sat back against the couch. “You’re truly happily mated to Arawn.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t resist grinning.

Merle’s forehead wrinkled. “Does he still own you?”

“No.” Maeve stopped short, considered. “Actually, yes, but…not in the same way as before. Or rather, I belong to him like he now belongs to me. We’re bound to each other mutually.”

“Like a true mating bond,” Merle muttered, and Maeve nodded. Merle turned her head and stared at the wall. “My baby sister is mated to the Demon Lord.”

Maeve wanted to say something when Merle flinched and sat up straight. “Wait. Oh, my gods. That makes me… That means he’s my…”

“Brother-by-mating?” Maeve supplied helpfully.

With a high-pitched groan that sounded suspiciously like a wail, Merle covered her face with both hands.

Maeve bit her lip. If this was Merle’s reaction to learning she was now related by mating to the Demon Lord, she didn’t want to imagine her response to that tiny tidbit of extra knowledge that Arawn was actually a god.

“Everything okay in here?” Rhun poked his head into the room. “No one getting skewered, I hope? Are you in need of my manly protection?”

“Rhun!” Merle whined. “You won’t believe this.”

“You threw something and actually hit the mark?”

Merle narrowed her eyes and threw a pillow at him—which missed him by three feet.

“Apparently not,” Rhun said with a smirk.

Merle’s expression turned wicked. Mischief glinted in her eyes, and she gave him a small, gloating smile. “Guess what, honey.”

At that endearment, Rhun stiffened, and his expression grew wary.

“You just got a new brother-by-mating,” Merle said, her tone ominous.

Rhun crossed his arms and frowned. “By mating? But who—” His attention flicked to Maeve, and his face lit up. “For real? You got hitched? To who?”

Merle’s grin was all sorts of evil. “I believe he’s standing outside looking menacing and scaring our neighbors.”

Rhun snorted. “Yeah, right. Like he’d get past Ar—” He broke off, glancing from Merle to Maeve and back again a few times. “No.”

“Yes.” Merle sent him a sweetly acidic smile.

Rhun turned incredulous eyes to Maeve. “Tell me my lovely mate’s pulling my leg.”

Maeve grimaced and shrugged apologetically.

Rhun whipped his head around to stare out the window into the front yard, then whirled back to stare at Maeve, repeated the moves a couple of times until he clutched his chest and sank into the nearest chair.

“Um,” Maeve started, but Rhun held up a hand.

His eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose and whispered, “Shh. I’m processing.”

“This might take a while,” Merle murmured, and patted Maeve’s knee.

Maeve cleared her throat. “Right. Okay.”

“While we’re letting that sink in,” Merle said, “why don’t you do that explaining thing you promised.” She waved at Maeve’s face—at the glowing scar.

“Oh.” Maeve rubbed her nose. “Yeah. So.” How do I even…? Maybe bluntness served best here, too. “I’ve got an ancient phoenix in my core, and when she came out and shapeshifted back into me, she thought it was a nice idea to turn my scars into kintsugi.”

Silence.

Maeve dared a look at Merle. Her sister eyed her with the same expression one might see on the faces of people confronted with adults who still wrote letters to Santa.

“You lost me at phoenix,” Merle said. “I need you to elaborate on that.”

So she did. Told Merle—and a quietly horrified Rhun—all about the ancient beasts, how they’d been forced to sleep, how one had fused its essence with the MacKenna magic and reincarnated in Maeve, how the beasts were now waking up…and how there were, on top of that, a bunch of fallen, misanthropic gods who were also regaining their power, while the protectors of humankind—the Powers That Be—were gradually losing theirs.

And she delivered the cherry on top of the heap of bizarre and overwhelming news when she finished with, “And Arawn is one of the fallen.”

Merle just stared at her. Rhun looked like he might have been shocked out of his body. A minute ticked by. Maeve fidgeted, curling the seam of her cardigan.

“I can’t have alcohol anymore, can I?” Merle finally asked weakly.

Maeve shook her head.

“Damn. I really need a drink right now.”

Maeve glanced at Rhun. “Still processing?”

He shuddered. “Yes.”

Maeve pressed her lips together and nodded.

“If Arawn is one of those who opposed keeping humans safe,” Merle said after another moment, “what is his attitude regarding humans now?”

“While he doesn’t much care about them,” Maeve said quietly, “he promised to keep them from being eaten or overrun within his territory and beyond, as much as he’s able.”

Merle studied her with the kind of discernment Maeve had always admired in her. “For you.”

Maeve swallowed. “For me.”

Taking a deep breath, Merle rubbed her face with both hands.

“There’s more,” Maeve ventured.

Merle groaned behind her hands. “Oh, gods.”

“Yeah. About that.”

Peering at her from between her fingers, Merle raised a brow.

“Since the Powers That Be are getting weaker, witches will lose some of their power, too. Soon you won’t be able to tap into the magic that is worked into the world anymore. That ability is tied to the Powers That Be, and with their authority fading…”

Merle closed her eyes, massaged her temples. “We’re fucked.”

Maeve cleared her throat yet again, shifted on the couch. “Well…not if you switch your allegiance to Arawn.”

Merle let her hands fall into her lap, tilted her head forward and stared at Maeve. “I beg your pardon?”

“You could pledge your allegiance to him, and he could grant you access to the layers of the world and its magic. He’s a god, and he’s gaining power.”

Merle huffed out a dry laugh. “This really takes the cake. I can’t believe you’re suggesting I—”

“He’d be able to postpone the payback until after your baby is born.”

Growing utterly still, Merle stared at her. “I’ll do it.”

Her eyes slid to Rhun, and Maeve glanced at him as well.

Rhun’s expression was a mask of vicious determination. “Yes,” was all he said.

Arawn, Maeve said mentally, if Merle were to pledge her allegiance to you—

I would not ask her to do my bidding, came his response before she even finished her question. She is your family.

A smile bloomed in her heart. Yours too, now.

A considering silence. And how does she feel about that?

Let’s…give it some time.

His chuckle echoed in her mind.

Focusing back on Merle, she said, “There are no strings attached. You’ll be as free as you are now.”

Merle regarded her silently for a long while. “He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

Maeve just nodded with a smile, her eyes lowered to her hands in her lap.

“I can’t promise I’ll ever grow to like him,” Merle said softly. “But I’ll make an effort to…accept him. For you.”

Maeve swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I appreciate it.”

Rhun cleared his throat.

Maeve looked at him. “Done processing?”

He waved that away. “Sure, sure. I’m just…going through the implications of having a god in our family. I mean, that’s even better than marrying into royalty, right?”

“Rhun.” Merle rubbed her forehead with one hand.

“No, no. Think about it. All that power by proxy. The glory rubbing off on us.”

“Rhun.”

“We’re like…the divine family.”

Merle sent him her patented glare. “You cannot say that sort of BS in front of him.”

Rhun looked offended. “Of course not. Just in front of all our friends.” He shrugged, his smirk making his eyes flash. “And everybody else who needs to have the fear of that particular god put into them.”

Maeve couldn’t help it. She giggled. Merle glanced at her, surprise written in every line of her face, before she joined Maeve in her laughter, her expression so full of love and light in spite of everything looming on the horizon, and in that moment, Maeve knew.

Whatever challenges the future would throw at her, she’d be okay. Because she’d face it all with her family—including Arawn—by her side.