The floor of the inn they found in the next village was made of clay tiles, not marble. The room lit up only by the faint light of an old chandelier hanging precariously from the ceiling.

Aeltharion raised his cup. "In celebration of my birthday and this new beginning. Let’s toast!"

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

Beastfolks raised their full cups and drank to his toast. As was tradition for birthday toasts, no wine was left in either of their cups.

"Happy birthday, brother," Aenyra pressed a small wooden box into Aeltharion’s palm. "May the heavens bless you with a long life."

"He is a nine-horned dragon. His immortality is assured," Sheana stated what she felt was obvious for everyone around.

Aenyra, Sseraphis, Aeltharion, and Jura grew noticeably tense at her words.

"Why waste your wish on something that he already has?"

Their tension grew deeper. Their body closing up as reality echoed harder in their bones.

It wasn’t assured that they’ll have another birthday gathering for Aeltharion or whether or not Aeltharion will be with them come this time next year.

"Is there a moment, however, beautiful or tragic that you wouldn’t defile with your sharp tongue?" Aenyra’s cold question stung at the fragile spots in Sheana’s heart.

"I appreciate the gift," Aeltharion gave an awkward smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was the least he could do to avoid ruining the mood. It was also his attempt and bringing back the beastfolks’ spirits. "Thank you, Aenyra."

"Most welcome, brother."

Nytherael inched in. He felt guilty as he whispered,"I’m sorry. I didn’t get you any present."

Aeltharion’s face shone bright. He smiled and squeezed his cheek fondly.

"I’d say being here with you and being able to celebrate together after a long time is enough..." he dazed off, his mind occupied with thoughts of their heated passion the previous night.

He turned the clock of his special day in the most memorable way possible. One that brought back beautiful memories of a time when their bond knew peace, trust, and sincere love.

"Last night was present enough," he lowered his voice as he said.

Nytherael’s eyes widened. ’Last night?’ The memories he’d been suppressing with great effort as he feared breaking apart due his misconception of the truth and false realities came rushing back into his brain.

The hungry kisses, the soft caresses, and sweaty skin to skin session of love making that lasted hours and hours as the three of them had the stamina to keep up with time.

His fox ears twitched. The recollection made his skin flush with a warmth he had long forgotten. The knowledge that the night with his husbands wasn’t a figment of his imagination sparked a flame in his heart.

’Sseraphis’s kindness was real?’ His eyes raised to his serpent. ’His touch... his moans... his love..." his heart began to pound loudly.

Sseraphis sensed his eyes on him and tensed. His skin itched as he looked up and caught the look of the youthful love that Nytherael wore on his face.

"I need some air," he made an excuse and left the room. Nytherael followed his every move, feeling like the revelation was a sign from the heavens that they weren’t doomed to be apart forever.

"Just to be clear. When you say last night..."

"I should find, Ssese," Aeltharion stood and followed Sseraphis out.

Nytherael was left behind, staring at the empty seats left behind by his lovers. He breathed out. Hard. Slowly.

With his hope renewed, he was motivated to fight harder to rebuild what he’d lost. Determined to melt through Sseraphis’ venom to get to the sweet core that he saw the previous night.

"What do you want to eat?" Rhysandor initiated a conversation.

"Essence fruits," Nerezza answered, then she lifted her head to inquire about how much money he’d carried with, and it was then that she realized Rhysandor had been talking to Nytherael and not her. "Remind me, Nythe. Why should I be happy that you are back again?"

She clicked her tongue and lowered her head again.

Rhysandor caressed her back. "I’ll get you as many essence fruits as you need," he said.

Nerezza shook off his hand. She didn’t want his second-hand affection.

"I think it’ll be better if you focused on her more than me, my friend," Nytherael advised Rhys.

"You are my friend, and it’s not wrong for me to worry about you."

"It is when your wife despises you doing so. Trust me, you don’t want her growing distant with you," Nytherael advised from personal experience.

His eyes landed heavily on Sseraphis’ and Altherion’s empty chair. He’d made the mistake of passing off his loved ones, and fate took time when their wounds were still fresh, away from him. Now, he could only watch as they distanced themselves from him every chance they got.

"Perhaps, had I rushed to them straight from the beast court... things would’ve turned our differently," he muttered.

"Different doesn’t mean better," Rhysandor replied. "And why dwell on a past you can’t change. I say, focus on the present and the future... that you have the power to alter however you want."

"... with hands like Nytherael’s that know how to break better than they build, that opportunity is rather wasted, don’t you think?" Nerezza commented without raising her head.

"People can change, and is love not the biggest motivation for change?"

Tivnir joined their conversation. His eyes stole brief glances at Yiwa.

"One can learn to be gentle, patient, and most understanding when touched by the power of love," he added like a declaration of his feelings.

Yiwa grabbed his cup tightly and gulped down the wine without a break. His body tensed with nervousness.

"Spoken like someone whose heart has been touched by love. Tell me, War. Whose the lucky beast to have moved a rock like you?" Sheana teased.

Aenyra sneered. "Must you put your nose in other people’s businesses?"

"You’re rather talkative today. Did someone pry your lips open..." Sheana halted her retort when the word ’lips’ slipped out her mouth, and she recalled the kiss she had forced upon the dragoness. "Sseraphis had the right idea. I need some fresh air."

She excused herself and walked away, feeling the weight of Aenyra’s displeasure with her.

"Why the harshness towards Sheana?" Nytherael asked. That had to be the first time that he’s seen his sister-in-law so emotional and engaging with someone else.

Aenyra pressed her lips. She sealed the secret of what transpired between them in the illusion. Her finger touched her lips. For some reason, he felt Sheana’s fiery saliva against them.

"I’ll go find my brother," she avoided the question and everyone entirely by running off.

"Did Sseraphis poison the air? Why is everyone rushing out for fresh air?" Fior gave Ssirel a sideway accusing look that said,’whatever Sseraphis did, I know you helped him’.

Ssirel burst into chuckling fit. He felt extremely proud to be put on an evil pedestal where evert bad deed was naturally assumed to have passed through his hands.

"You honour me, Fior. I am touched."

"That wasn’t a compliment!" Fior argued.

"Then you should’ve said something nice. That would’ve gotten the reaction you were hoping for."

Fior shook his head. "Seeing that Sseraphis is the one who was abandoned by your parents. Why are you the one that’s broken beyond repair?" He felt the need to ask because compared to Sseraphis, Ssirel turned out much worse.

"Maybe I wasn’t love enough," Ssirel joked. "Want to try loving me and fill the empty void in my chest so I can be good, Fior?" He teased.

"Unsavable!"

"That would be applicable if I wanted to be saved, soldier."

Fior averted his focus after seeing the conversation going nowhere and turned to Nytherael. "With how nice sovereign Aeltharion is being with you... have you two patched things up?"

Nytherael, who’d been silently listening in on the banter, looked up when he was suddenly addressed. He was renderer speechless by the heavy question Fior raised.

’Had they patched things up? How was he to know? Aeltharion can’t just forgive him because they made love, right?’