This would not end happily for him. That much was clear.

“Reverence? Is everything ok?”

Xenon looked up to see his fated mate’s worried face above her bent legs. He’d allowed himself to get lost in the dark thoughts again. Something he wished to avoid doing in her presence.

During this pregnancy, his examinations always ended with him honoring her before pulling her atop him so she could more easily ride his male works in her increasingly large state. But today he’d let his flame go blue with the thoughts of what he must do in a half moon’s time—two weeks, as Fated Mate would call it.

And that thought had turned what should have been a sexy examination into something bittersweet.

“Forgive me, Treasure,” he murmured quietly inside her head. “I ponder the next moon’s feast. The closest bison herd is growing thin. I should begin a search for a new herd with Eos this morn. Then shall I return to help the Far Travelers with the construction of the ground caves.”

Xenon stopped when her flame turned bright yellow, and her chest rippled orange with laughter. “Why flame you thus?” he asked.

“Because for someone who claims not to care about the hunting beasts, you’re sure putting a lot of thought into this next moon’s feast and helping them build cave dwellings.”

For not the first time during the four rotations they’d spent together, he gave thanks his flame was not visible to her. That she could not see the blue tinge when he answered, “I suppose it is fair to say they have grown to my liking.”

“Reverence?” she asked him with a soft smile.

“Yes, Treasure?”

“I know you’re anxious to leave, but do you think we might have a little time to honor each other before you go? I’m getting so big, as you may have noticed. Lord knows how much longer I’m going to be able to honor you in any way until the baby arrives.”

Once more, Xenon’s flame blued at her words. He could no longer trust himself to respond. So instead of giving her words, he gave her his hands upon her waist. It seemed his male works were not as occupied as his mind because both penises stood ready to receive her wet heat as soon as he pulled her above him.

However, rather than embedding each penis in her front and back per usual, he allowed her womanhood to engulf one while pushing the other up against her swollen clit. This was a position he used only rarely because she often came too quickly for their liking.

But this morning was different. Not only did his heart fill with stark relief when she found her honor a short beat later, but he spilled into her soon after. Happy to be done. If not with the act, then at least with the lie.

Xenon looked to the cave entrance. The view had changed from sky to river since their time at the hot spring. Not only because Fated Mate had met his condition of trust, but because he had no wish to restrict her freedoms further. He did not want her to remember him as a jailor…

Another dark thought.

“I will return for the midday meal,” he told her, giving her forehead short press before he rose to his feet.

“Okay, bye,” she answered.

Xenon made a great effort to ignore the dark spots of confusion upon her otherwise yellow flame.

He turned and rapidly made his way to the mouth of their cave.

But instead of going toward to the encampment as he usually did when Golden Son slept apart from his parents, he immediately launched upwards. Unshelling as he sprung from the entrance, crying out for his son to join him in the air.

Golden Son responded to the summons with proper haste. The year had matured the boy in interesting ways. He still did not stand as tall as a drakkon of similar age. And he remained far from adulthood, despite nearly four solar rotations having passed since his birth. But Golden Son was now as tall as a wolf of ten rotations, and though he still had what his mother referred to as an “impish sense of humor,” his pranks were far more carefully orchestrated, often taking days to execute.

However, he did not attempt light conversation with his father as they flew toward the north side of the mountain. To Xenon’s bittersweet surprise, his son had taken to their secret project with the zeal of a maker born. As it would happen, he and his hybrid son were not as different as he had once thought—a discovery that made Xenon both happy, and sad…for reasons he could not yet impart to his son or his mate.

Which is why he reminded Golden Son of his most important duty as they worked together at the site where his Most Revered had hoped to find her Arizona “gate.”

“I will remind you of this again, Golden Son. Though we keep this secret from your mother, you will protect her after I no longer can.”

“Yes, of course, Blue Father. A father’s duty passes to his son when the son leaves the family cave, and when the father leaves the world. You have told me many times. I understand.”

Golden Son’s voice had taken on a somewhat churlish tone as of late. One Fated Mate professed, “not to love.” But in that moment, Xenon already missed his son’s voice, churlishness and all, with a bittersweet longing he doubted would ever cease. Perhaps Fated Mate had been right all along about the value of childhood.

Another dark thought.

“We could make more of these,” Golden Son pointed out.

Xenon once more turned his attention back to his son. “No, I’m afraid we cannot,” he answered.

“Blue Father, I know this is your last one. But I was thinking more on Mama’s story about how hard it was for her father to track down her mother from the one North American gate. You said these mountains are much bigger than the ones on Drakkon. So maybe the system doesn’t have to be as big here. If we gather enough gold and find the right conditions, we could probably break this down to make several dozens more of these if we wanted to.”

“This is not a bad idea,” he said to his son. “More would certainly make it easier for the lupin. I’ve also had an idea to change the encoding, so that one does not have to stand directly in front of a fating portal in order to make use of it…”

Maybe he had grown as fond of the Royal Geneticist’s experiments as Fated Mate claimed this morning. Because for the next few minutes, he and his son hypothesized how the device they were working on might be broken down and multiplied. It was a good conversation. Filled with possibility and ideas.

Yet for the thousands of the years that followed, it would be this conversation he blamed.

It was the only explanation he could give for what came to pass. How he’d failed to keep his project hidden for the two more precious weeks he’d promised himself before doing what he must.

But as it turned out, both he and Golden Son had been so intent on their discussion, neither of them noticed anyone coming up the natural trail that led to this bit of outcropping.

Not until it was too late.

“What are you two doing up here?” a voice suddenly asked behind them, cutting the conversation short. Fated Mate’s voice, he realized, his flame darkening with shame.

And then, before he could turn to her, she said, “Oh, my God. Is that? Is that…the Arizona time gate?”