Central Station is perhaps one of the most gorgeous buildings I have ever laid eyes on, and I have traveled to many worlds across the galaxy. The ceiling is a tall dome made of fine marble; pillars covered in vines line the walls and various forms of art from mosaics to murals dot the interior.

It is the beating heart of Earth.

One could get on a train here and be anywhere on the planet within three days. I lead Layla, Quinn, and Gráinne through the station towards our train. It’s on an off day for travel, but even so, there are thousands of people walking about. We take about an hour to get through the various checkpoints within the station and get to our train. It’s an overnight trip so we’ll get our own sleeping compartments—Layla and Quinn plan to share one and Gráinne and I will go to another.

The five of us share a single compartment for now. In ‘travel’ mode, the room has two plush wall-to-wall benches for us to sit on and a collapsible table in the center to take our meals on. When we want to use it as a bedroom, the entire compartment can reconfigure itself into a bedroom.

“Alright,” I say, finally able to relax now that we are settled in. I check the time on my datapad. “About an hour and we’ll be off. Sorry I made us get here so early, but I’m paranoid about getting to places on time. Especially today.” I smile over at Gráinne. “So, what do you think, birthday girl?”

Gráinne leans on me, wrapping her tail around my wrist. For the past week since the augmentation, she has been in almost constant physical contact with me.

“I think you shouldn’t be sorry,” she says. “Rather early than late.” She kisses under my jaw. “Besides that, I am considerably impressed by the train. It’s a perfect birthday.” She smiles, her violet eyes peering up at me.

“Wait until we’re moving. You can see even more of her.” I put an arm around her, kissing an ear. “We’ll get up and walk around, and we can have dinner in the restaurant car. A famous chef runs it.”

Her eyes light up, her smile broadens. “A restaurant? On the train? Is it as wonderful as your cooking?”

I roll my eyes. “Princess, what kind of question is that? I’m not a proper chef.”

“Hmmmm,” she says, chuckling. “I’ll be the judge of that. Either way, my birthday has become considerably more perfect. My friends. My fiancée. A train that travels over the sea.” She sighs wistfully, snuggling up against me tightly. “A month ago, I couldn’t have imagined this was possible. Thank you… all three of you.”

“Of course,” Layla says, “after being your friend for a month, I feel very silly that I was ever scared of you.”

Quinn frowns. “The bodyguard didn’t help,” she says. “But really, it’s the whole of Fomorian society that’s broken.”

“It is,” Gráinne says. “From top to bottom. It was hard to see how broken it was in the moment. I—”

“We’ll build something better once we tear it down,” I say. “That said, right now, in this moment, we’re relaxing and celebrating.” I squeeze Gráinne’s knee, kissing the top of her head. “The road ahead is long, and we may not get many chances to just relax in the days ahead.”

“You’re right,” she says, sitting up straight. “And we will build something better—whatever it takes.”

Despite my own words, it’s difficult to keep my thoughts of the future at bay. The Fomorian Armory is just one of many corporate empires to dismantle. There is also whatever agenda Cleo has, though I am leaving her to my mothers—she is their enemy. Last but not least, there is speaking with Eva, and I’d really rather do war by myself than dredge up that past.

Yet, I need allies in the coming days. Gráinne and her feral tenacity, while exceptional, is not enough to make meaningful and strategic strikes at our enemies. We need a team.

Gráinne, like a cat, seems to sense my growing anxiety and rests her head on my shoulder, wrapping her tail around mine. I take in a deep breath, pushing aside my thoughts for now. There’s nothing I can do to solve any of these problems right now. The next best step is getting the Phantom and Bansidhe up and running. Most importantly, I owe it to Gráinne to be present on her birthday and not thinking of battles.

“I think we’re going to set up our cabin,” Layla says. “And I want to take a nap before the train leaves.”

“A nap sounds good,” Gráinne agrees. “I had an awful nightmare, woke up and then couldn’t get any more sleep.”

“What sort of nightmare?” Quinn furrows her brow.

“That I was back at the palace and had not met any of you,” she says. “I was in a wedding dress, too, and I think my groom was Bres.” She shudders. “Like I said, it was awful.”

“Isn’t that the guy whose ribs I cracked?” I take Gráinne’s hand in mine.

“The very same,” she says. “He was the reigning champion. I learned to pilot and augmented my flesh so that I could defeat him. The way he looked at me—treated me while he was champion. It was vile.”

“I should have cracked several more of his ribs.” I shift in my seat, pulling her to my chest and wrapping my arm around her shoulder.

She hums contentedly. “Not worth it. He learned that I am not to be trifled with, and he stayed away from me. In fact, that day was the first time he so much as looked at me. I think he was jealous.” She makes a gagging sound. “As if he thought I would pick him in the end. Hmm, on second thought, maybe you should have broken more than just his ribs.”

“It was really satisfying to see that,” Quinn says. “Man was a terror to people like us.”

“Him and all his stupid friends,” Layla says. “Gods, I am glad you don’t have to marry that awful man.”

Gráinne sits up and stretches. “Me too. Last night was only a nightmare. I am here now, on Earth, with my heart’s desire and my dear friends. Truly, this is a perfect birthday.” She smiles warmly, wiggling her ears with joy. “And I plan to enjoy it to the fullest. Which, right now, means taking a catnap.”

---

The mag rails below us make the train feel motionless as it races across the continent. The only way to know we’re moving at all would be to look out the window and see the world pass us by. That will have to wait, however, as Gráinne’s catnap has turned into a three-hour sleep from which she hasn’t woken from. Her nightmare truly must have been awful to have ruined her sleep so badly.

I hold her tight in my arms, kissing her forehead as she sleeps. She stirs gently, her eyes fluttering open briefly. It would perhaps be a kindness to wake her so that she can enjoy more of this trip. I pepper her face with more kisses, each one gently rousing her from sleep.

She smiles at me and digs her face into my chest. “Mmm, how long have I been out for?”

“Three hours,” I say. “Shame, you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.”

“Three hours?” She whimpers, digging her fingers into me as if to pull herself even closer. “Well, at least it is a rather long trip. Thank you for staying with me the whole time.”

I kiss the top of her head, my hands idly stroking down her naked back. “Of course,” I whisper.

“Did you nap, too?” She crawls on top of me, resting her head in the crook of my neck.

“No.” The weight of her body on mine is pleasant, her warmth radiating out and into me. I keep stroking her hair, occasionally running my fingers across her ears. “My mind was on our next steps. Stressing that our mechs won’t be ready if the situation takes a turn for the worse suddenly. Worried about what Cleo is up to. Sleep isn’t coming easily to me these days, but that’s okay. I don’t need as much sleep as normal people.”

She kisses under my jaw, her hands cup one of my breasts. “Your mind needs sleep even if your body does not.”

I suck in a breath as her dexterous fingers massage my nipple. “Are you trying to encourage me to sleep, or are you claiming your birthday present?”

Gráinne giggles as she adjusts her body, pressing her thigh right up against my clit. “Well, I know you sleep after I wear you out,” she teases. “So, a bit of both. Gods, I am hungry for you.” Her mouth latches to my nipple, her fingers playing with the other.

My hips roll as I grind my cunt against her thigh; pulses of pleasure race through my body, overwhelming my senses. Groans and moans escape me as she teases, suckles, and toys with me. “W-whatever my birthday girl wants,” I say, struggling to keep a steady voice.

Teeth clamp down on my breast, nails drag down my sides and hips like claws. I arch my back, hissing in painful rapture. Her long, beautiful fingers find my clit, stroking it gently. My eyes roll to the back of my head. The concentrated bundle of nerves instantly becomes overstimulated. I open my mouth to talk, but only a whimper comes out.

“Mmm, you will get used to it,” she says softly. “I will go easy on you, my perfect, pretty wolf.”

“Thanks,” I say hoarsely. “It’s… it’s very new.”

“I know.” She kisses my neck. “Tell me if it is too much, or if it hurts.”

She rubs around the sensitive nub instead, avoiding direct contact. The almost painful amount of pleasure subsides, giving way to ecstasy. I press my hips into her hand, grinding myself against the tips of her fingers. She grins before kissing me firmly, deeply. Her tongue is in my mouth, my breath stolen from my lungs.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tight to my chest as we kiss. She grinds herself needily into my knee, moaning as she edges herself. Gráinne pulls away from me, her violet eyes burning with hunger and passion. She sits up and gets between my thighs, pressing her cunt to mine. 

I bite my lip, reaching out to cup her breast as she rolls her hips against me. Her taut abs flex as she dances against me, her head thrown back. Long black locks tumble down around her face and back, her mouth slightly agape as we fuck.

I match her pace as we press ourselves against one another, both trying to make the other scream out in pleasure. My orgasm comes first, but only just. My toes curl. I grip the bed and bite into the pillow to keep myself from making too much noise. She bites into me when she cums, her whole body shaking with pleasure.

We lie there in bliss for a moment, gathering our bearings.

“Fuck,” I say, my chest heaving up and down. “That was—I wasn’t sure what to expect, but that was amazing.”

“Mmm, quite,” she replies, stifling a laugh. “I read about how to do that, and it was much better in practice.”

I kiss her neck and face, my hands idly stroking both her tail and her ears. She shudders and whines. “You’re adorable for doing that. Is there anything else my princess wants to try on her birthday?” My tone is light and teasing. “Your wish is my command.”

She clings tightly to me, pressing her face to my ear. “Sit on my face and use me, Dia. Gods, I have been thinking about that for days. I want us to consume one another until we can’t walk.”

Wordlessly, I flip us over. Gráinne yelps and giggles as I straddle her. She looks up at me, her tongue dragging across her lips. I pin her down on the bed with and tease her by keeping my cunt just out of reach. She whines, her eyes pleading with me to release her. I grab her by the hair, taking a fistful of her raven locks between my fingers. I stuff her face between my thighs and rock my hips back and forth.

Her moans and whimpers are muffled as she digs her tongue inside me. I toss my head back as I ride her face. She eagerly laps me up, drinking her fill of me like she is stranded in the desert. With her arms pinned under my knees, she lies there helplessly as I grind myself into her, reveling in the primal urge to rut.

I cum but do not stop my hips, my body now used to the overwhelming pleasure. A gush of warm fluid squirts into her mouth and on her face, only making my lover moan and cry out. I edge myself on the precipice of another orgasm, panting and touching my own breasts as I enjoy myself on my princesses’ mouth.

But I am hungry, too. Reluctantly, I lift myself from her so that I can turn around and mount her again—this time burying my face in her pussy. She is soaked, leaking nectar down her thighs and onto the bed. I take long licks, raking my tongue across her folds, drinking my fill of her. She grabs my ass, spreading me wide as she devours me. I lose track of how many times we scream, how many orgasms rip through our bodies and even how long we are like this. Our feral passion eventually gives way to a desire to simply be close to one another. To kiss and to swap our taste between our mouths as we lavish one another.

The door to our room bursts open as we kiss. I yank myself away, looking up to see the barrel of a rifle pointed down at me, a soldier dressed in all black with a featureless helmet. The muzzle flashes, there is a deafening crack as the bullet rips across the compartment.

Pain.

Blood pours down over my eyes.

“Dia!”

---

Snow white hair runs crimson as my wolf’s very life flows out of her.

I snarl, leaping off the bed towards her attacker, crossing the compartment in an instant. The soldier reacts slow, barely able to register that I am now about to kill him. I take the rifle from them just as another shot goes off; the bullet ricocheting off the wall. I smash my fist into them, shattering their body armor.

They crumple to the floor as I take the butt of the rifle and slam into their helmet again and again, shattering the tinted glass. The man’s face becomes visible, his nose bloody and broken. I discard the gun, tearing the helmet off the soldier and wrapping my hand around his throat. He tries to fight me off, but it is no use. It takes only a second to rip his throat out. Spurts of blood gush as he falls lifelessly to the floor.

I stand there panting, my fingers hand covered in blood. I turn back towards Dia, who is slowly getting up.

“Fuck, that hurts,” she growls, a bullet lodged in her forehead. With a grunt, she yanks it out and tosses the metal lump to the to the ground with a thump—her skin already beginning to heal over the wound.

I rush over to her, throwing my arms around her waist. “Thank the gods you are okay.”

“Yeah, of course,” she says. “Takes a lot more than that to get through my skull. Just stunned me for a moment.”

“Okay,” I say, taking only a moment to feel relief before I go to our luggage. I take out fresh clothes; something easy to move around in. Trousers, a crop top, and a cropped jacket for Dia. Shorts and a draping tank top for me.

We silently don our clothes; our very bodies will have to be our armor. After getting dressed, Dia takes the rifle and throws me the dead soldier’s sidearm. “We need to check on Layla and Quinn, then find out who the fuck these people are.”

I flip the pistol’s safety off and ready it. “I know who they are,” I tell her. “They belong to the same group as the pilots you killed.”

“Ah, so Cleo’s people.” She grits her teeth. “Well, they are going to pay for shooting me in the head and ruining your birthday.”

“The day is still young,” I say. “So long as our friends are alive at the end of it, this will still be my best birthday.”

“Princess,” Dia says, her voice soft and slightly amused, “that is absolutely tragic.”

We make our way down the train. No other soldiers are in sight. Layla and Quinn’s compartment is adjacent to ours, so we need not walk far. We find them hiding behind their bed. Thank the gods.

“We heard shooting,” Quinn says, her voice quivering. “Dia, holy shit your hair.”

“It’ll wash out,” she says. “You two just stay here. Gráinne and are going to see if it was just the one or if there are more. It’s unlikely they were working alone.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Layla asks, trying to sound far braver than she must be feeling.

“No,” I tell her. “Things may get even bloodier than they already have. Stay here and stay safe. We will manage this.”

They nod at us and go back to taking cover. Dia and I exit their compartment, sealing it shut behind us. It dawns on me only now that I have taken my first life. It was a rather trivial task in the end—their flesh tore so easily.

Movement in the corner of my eye. I duck. A bullet buzzes overhead. Three more soldiers came from the train car in front of us, another four from the car behind. Dia takes aim at the group coming from our rear us, squeezing off several rounds. I rush forward towards the group of three. The cacophony of gunfire is deafening. I use my arms to cover my vitals as I approach, their bullets tear into my skin, ripping flesh from bone. Adrenaline and neural implants blunt the searing pain. Flesh will heal, my augmented body more durable than any armor.

I strike a soldier with an elbow, shattering their helmet in a single blow. One grabs me, I kick off the wall, smashing him into the side of the train. Like me, they are most likely cybernetically enhanced and conventional methods of killing won’t work, but there are still weaknesses to the human body that can be exploited—soft tissue, organs, and arteries.

My hand becomes the edge of a sword, slashing through a soldier’s throat. Blood gushes in spurts as my fingers slice through the sinew. I do not stop to admire my wet work, though the shade of red is beautiful in its own way. The soldiers have realized that their guns are not nearly as effective against me as they would have hoped. They draw knives. One thrusts their blade, aiming for my stomach. I parry, the knife slicing through my forearm instead. More pain to be ignored as I shove my knee into the soldier’s side. There is a loud crack as bones break.

I take the knife from them, thrusting it in between their ribs. I twist the blade, widening the gap between their bones and drag the knife along their body, slicing through vital organs. Two are dead. The third, whom I stunned just a moment ago, has now recovered. They are undaunted, unnaturally so. One would think seeing your friends dead would give you pause, but they attack with me the ferocity and fearlessness of someone who knows they are already dead.

They lash out at me, each strike aimed at with a precision that could easily kill me. I parry and block with my arms, taking care to protect my weak points. Being the last one alive, they attack desperately—recklessly. They step a hair too far forward as they try to grab me, their balance only slightly thrown off. It’s all I need. I throw them to the ground and press my knee to their carotid. They feebly try to throw me off, but already the lack of blood to their brain makes them impotent. I hold firm, choking the life from them. They gurgle a death rattle, fingers scratching at my leg fall limp.

I whip around, looking behind me, and see that Dia has killed three of the four assailants. She looks no worse for the wear as she tosses the rifle to the ground.

Dia steps on the last soldier, the heel of her boot right on his neck. “Are you going to talk?” she asks him.

“Fuck you,” he spits. “Just kill me.”

“But if I kill you, then I don’t get an answer, and I really, really want an answer,” she says, digging her heel into his neck. “And your boss’ trick isn’t going to work this time. I scrambled all your external communications. You’re cut off.”

The soldier’s eyes widen with panic. He opens his mouth and tries to bite down, but before he can, Dia’s fingers are in his mouth, her movements a blur. She grunts in pain and curses under her breath.

“Ow,” she says, ripping her fingers out from between his teeth, a molar in hand. “Damn, that’s old school, but very thorough.” She tosses the tooth to the ground nearby. “Now, be a good boy and talk. Maybe I can put in a good word for you and when I turn you over to Central Authorities, they’ll give you a new life. Must be better than working for a psychopathic bitch that’ll pop your brain if you fail.”

“I’m already dead,” he says. “There is nothing you can do for me. I’m dead. Her arm is longer than you can imagine. Please, just kill me.”

Dia tilts her head, her brows furrowing. “You are really afraid,” she remarks. “Any more of you on the train?”

He shakes his head. “No, it was just the eight of us.”

“Mission?”

The soldier hesitates a moment. “You,” he says. “The mission was to bring you in. The boss is obsessed with the idea of studying you.”

“At least she has taste,” Dia says, the sardonic edge to her tone as sharp as any blade. She sits down on her haunches, holding the man down with an outstretched hand. “Here’s the score, friend. I don’t really want to kill you unless I have no choice. Now, I’m not really all that afraid of Cleo—Cleopatra, whatever she wants to call herself. Sure, sure, she has a long reach but see, she’s made the big mistake of pissing me off. There’s not a place in this universe or the next that she can hide from me.” Dia grimaces. “But that’s between me and her. Right now, I’d like to let you live. Are you going to let me, or do I need to put you down like a dog?”

The soldier reaches for his sidearm in a flash of motion, but Dia is faster still. She takes hold of his gun, twists it out of his hand and presses the barrel to his eye before shooting thrice. She stands up, tossing the gun aside.

“Like a dog it is.”

---

Naturally, with eight people dead, Dia and I were questioned by the staff of the train. Security footage was reviewed, and we gave the details of where we would be staying once we disembarked. The train’s conductor told us that Central Authorities would contact us within the week, but for now, the footage on the cameras gave them no cause to hold us. Dia, being an officer of Central’s navy, helped our case considerably. Though that information is news to me—I make a mental note to ask her about that later.

We were given a new compartment; our luggage was moved there for us by the train’s staff. Layla and Quinn are shaken by the fighting, but otherwise unharmed. My wounds have healed already, as have Dia’s. Almost everything is as it was, except for one undeniable truth: there is a new danger in our path, and it can strike at us, even in places we think are safe. I mull that over in my mind as Dia and I sit, looking out the window as the train passes over the ocean below.

“I haven’t wanted to ask what you know about these people,” Dia says after a long silence. “I wanted to give you a chance to just enjoy Earth. Now, I really need to know.”

I take her hand in mine, putting it in my lap. “I’ve only seen them a few times. A private military company I don’t even know the name of. As far as I was aware, they worked directly for my father. They were his personal shadow ops.”

Dia frowns then. “I see,” she says. “Well, I have a feeling that may not be the case.” She runs her fingers through her still bloodied hair. “Despite Central’s open nature, it’s not a simple place to infiltrate—Earth, especially. The people who protect Central are incredibly dedicated and highly trained to make sure things like this don’t happen.”

“Who is Cleo?” I ask. “I’ve never seen or even heard of her before, but she controls these soldiers, and she seems to have a history with your mothers.”

She casts her gaze out the window for a moment, collecting her thoughts and perhaps even her composure. “Cleo,” she says, taking in a deep breath, “betrayed my mother twenty-five years ago. She is the reason the Cerberus Incident happened at all.” Dia looks back at me, her gaze somewhat distant. “As far as I’m aware, they were lovers at one point. My mother trusted her the same way she trusts mom—implicitly. Cleo, for whatever reason, turned on everyone she knew for reasons no one understands. My mothers have been hunting her down ever since, and as far as I’ve been concerned, she is their prey.”

My grip around her hand tightens as I lean on her shoulder. “But now she’s set her sights on you.”

“Right.” Dia shifts to lean back on me. “It’s just a problem I wasn’t anticipating. My focus has been on the Fomorian Armory and the other galactic states. I wasn’t expecting Cleo to have amassed an army of indeterminate size with the ability to hit me on Earth. Sooner or later, she’s going to have to be dealt with.”

“I won’t let her take you.” My fingers interlace with Dia’s as I lift her hand to my lips. “And we will deal with what comes together, as have everything else thus far.”

She smiles then, her free hand ruffling the top of my head. “I know,” she says. “I’ve never doubted that.”

“Good,” I tell her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she says. “What do you want to know?”

I take a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter, really, but I am wondering why you never told me that you were formally part of Central’s Navy.”

She chuckles. “Oh, that.” She rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “Truth be told, I just forgot. I’ve been on extended leave since I left Central space and it’s not something I think about very often.”

Her red cheeks cause a giggle to escape from my lips. “My perfect, pretty wolf. You really are just a creature who lives entirely in the moment. I love that about you.”

Dia smirks at me, the smirk that makes my knees weak and my heart skip several beats. “What can I say, Princess?” she asks, leaning in close. “I am who I am.”

Our lips meet, my arms wrapping around her neck, pulling her tight against me. I know now that my wolf was never in any danger, but I can still vividly recall that void filled rage I felt when I thought they had killed her. I kiss her furiously, as if I may never kiss her again. It doesn’t take long for me to end up in her lap, straddling her and running my fingers along her back. Her tail wags behind her as we kiss.

“Mm,” she says, pulling away to take a breath. “What was that for?”

My cheeks flush, my heart pounds in my chest. “Because you’re still here with me.” I kiss her again before she can talk, my fingers digging into her skin.

Even when my lips are swollen and chafed raw, I don’t stop kissing her. She kisses me back, pulling me so close I feel I might become part of her. There are no more words for me to say, only affection and desire to show her. This foolish, foolish woman barged into my life and tore it apart with her gravity, and so I cling to her now, like a moon orbiting a star. I pour my very being into my touch, into my kiss.

She is my reason—my purpose. I will protect her unto the end of time.