Viviana orders us to get into a line. Sif falls in on the far left, Layla and Quinn next to her. Dia stands next to me on one side, Eva on the other. The red-haired woman is slightly shorter than I am, but her bulk and untamed mass of hair makes her appear far larger than she is. The problem, of course, is that being between the two of them fills my mind with thoughts I have no business having while Viviana relays important information. Eva looks over at me, winking at me and flashing a grin. My cheeks flush as I turn away.

Dia notices me, and the way Eva is looking at me and furrows her brow. “Oi,” she hisses. “Don’t do that to her, Eva.”

“She’s just fun to tease.” Eva chuckles, looking past me and at Dia rather. “Her face is cute when it gets red.”

 I glare at her. “Is teasing me just a game to you?” I ask. “Because if so, I would rather you not.”

“And what if it’s not a game, Princess?” She tilts her head, her ears standing upright, and her tail curled up behind her. “What then?”

Irritation bubbles up in my chest, my tail twitching behind me. Eva’s laugh becomes louder, her smirk broader. Without a word, I grab her by the hair, pulling her head back slightly and smashing my mouth against hers. She squeaks, yelps even, as I kiss her. She kisses me back, her hands gripping and twisting at my blouse.

Our lips are locked only for a moment before I pull away from her, releasing her hair and leaving her face a ruby shade.

“That is what, Evangeline,” I tell her firmly. “Only keep pushing my buttons if you know what you are getting yourself into.”

She presses her fingers to her lips. “Damn, Princess,” she says, recovering quite quickly. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her smirk returns in full force, taunting me.

“Good,” I say, looking away from her—she’s unbearable to look at for the moment. My gaze instead goes to my fiancée, who is smiling warmly as she looks between Eva and me. “What?” I ask.

“Impressed,” she says. “You got her to shut up and blush.”

It is my turn to smirk now. I do not look to see what Eva’s reaction might be, or anyone else’s for that matter; instead, I refocus on what Viviana has to say to us.

“Right, if we’re done messing about,” she says. “Before any testing of your mechs happens, I need the six of you to swallow these.” She walks down the line, handing each of us a capsule.

Sif is the one who looks most distrustful, her brows furrowed deeply. “What is it?”

“Nanomachines,” Viviana says. “They will disseminate into your body over the next hour, push their way up to the surface of your skin and function as a flightsuit when called upon, or automatically if the situation requires it. For those of you with cybernetics they will seamlessly integrate with your systems. You will not even know they are there.”

My brow quirks up. “This seems a bit excessive, Viviana,” I say. “For what purpose?”

She casts her gaze on me, a sly smirk on her face. “Well, some of you have decided to get animal ears and tails, and these will be better at protecting you from a vacuum. The real purpose is that they will protect you briefly in Slip Space should the ship’s shielding fail—long enough to return to normal space and avoid death.”

I nod curtly, rolling the capsule in my hand before swallowing it. It goes down easily enough, and the expected discomfort doesn’t manifest. My fellow pilots are the first to swallow. Layla and Quinn, however, show hesitation.

“What if we want to remove them?” Quinn asks, her tone hesitant and suspicious. “Once the mission is over, I mean.”

“I’ll teach you how to set up voice commands,” Viviana replies. “When you want to remove them, you’ll speak the codephrase, and they will pass out of your body over the course of a week in your urine. They are as temporary or permanent as you desire.”

Quinn’s face visibly relaxes. “Oh, that’s fine then,” she says, swallowing the capsule.

Layla does as well, similarly looking relieved, though a bit more eager. Of the two, I think she’s the one who would seek ways to alter her body. For me, this is yet another augmentation to my flesh. I find some measure of comfort that I am yet again doing something that pushes me beyond my limits. For my friends, who have never sought such things, I can understand their hesitation and am glad for them that this is not an irreversible choice.

“Now, for the next step,” Maeve says, stepping in front of the line. “You’re leaving in two days, and in that time, it’s essential that the six of you are in sync with one another. Layla and Quinn, your role will be vital in the field.”

She casts her gaze towards the pair of engineers. “The ship is equipped with a mass-printer, but it takes considerable resources to reprint a mech, so only do that if you have absolutely no choice. It will come down to you two to know each of your pilot’s machines intimately—to know exactly what they need for field repairs.”

“Understood,” Layla says. “We look forward to it.”

Maeve grins. “Good,” she says. “For you lot.” She taps her metallic arm to her chin, her jaw clenched. “You’re going to need to learn teamwork. Dia, you’re used to being a lone wolf. Gráinne, you’ve never been in a proper battle. Eva, as much as I love watching you fight in the arena, it’s not the same as war. Sif, your sniping abilities are incredible; the best I have ever seen. Your sister would have been proud of you.”

Sif looks down at her feet. “I don’t know if I would go that far,” she says. “I still haven’t broken Alexandria’s record for longest shot.”

“You’ll get that chance,” Maeve says. “Of the four pilots here, you’re the one who needs the most support, so you get first pick. Today you spar, tonight you rest, tomorrow you go to battle.”

“Rules of engagement?” Eva asks. “How hard can we go?”

“Hard as you want,” Maeve says. “The designs for all your mechs are in the printer, and we have ample resources. I trust you not to kill one another.” She smirks then, her eyes scanning over us. “Sif, go ahead and pick your partner.”

She grins, rubbing her hands together gleefully. “Well,” she says, “I have worked with these two monsters before, so I’d like to see what the princess has got.”

I lift my chin, my ears twitching. “Very well then,” I say. “A rematch with Dia, and I can finally see what you’re capable of, Evangeline. I cannot think of a better outcome.”

Maeve claps her hands together. “Wonderful! Oh, and just one more thing. This is a teamwork exercise. It’s not about just winning, but also watching out for your partner.” She looks over to Dia, then to Eva, her gaze deliberately lingering on the pair. “The first team to lose a member loses the match; you don’t get to avenge them on your own.”

---

Slipping into the cockpit of the Bansidhe is like putting my skin back on, like being wrapped tightly in my lover’s embrace. She is home—she is me. I am taken into her, my mind joining with chrome and metal, my flesh abandoned.

I rise, taking the field of battle once more. My eyes are fixed on my wolf; the Phantom Queen is as breathtaking as Dia is—powerful, sleek, and altogether deadly. It’s difficult not to be distracted by the obsidian frame’s sharp angular face and white-hot eyes. The creeping flush that washes over my skin is all that reminds me that I have a body as all.

The Morningstar is another stunning frame to behold—crimson and black with magnificent angelic wings. A golden crown floats atop her head—by what means, I know not. Strength is what defines her; thick shoulders and powerful arms that could crush the Bansidhe in an instant. She rests a battleaxe of ludicrous size on one of her shoulders, her hand resting on the haft of her weapon.

I can feel Evangeline’s smug smirk as her eyes flash green.

Sif, in the Valkyrie, is taking position before the spar officially begins. Unlike the other frames, the Valkyrie has no set color palette. She can camouflage to match the environment completely, not that there is much for her to use on this literal field except for sparse trees forty meters behind us. The frame is slighter of build than the rest of us, designed for agility and evading her enemies entirely. Her true strength is the massive anti-material rifle she wields—the Gungnir. If I can protect her well enough, she is the most dangerous combatant on the field.

“Ready?” Maeve says over the comms.

“Yes,” we all say, the tension in our voices thick and palpable.

“You will be out if you lose your head, just remember that,” she says. “Three… two… one. Begin!”

Thrusters at my back launch me forward. My best chance for victory is to engage with both of them, preventing them from reaching Sif at all. There is a risk that they could easily overpower me and take my head—I will just have to trust my partner.

The ‘feathers’ of the Morningstar’s wings detach, turning into swarm-bits that fire at me from all directions. I wave between the deadly light, approaching her with my sword drawn. The Phantom Queen appears in the corner of my eye, a foot smashing into my side. I tumble and roll across the ground, tearing up chunks of earth.

My wolf doesn’t hesitate to strike, aiming her lance at my head. A shot from the Valkyrie, perfectly aimed, nearly takes her head. The bits form a barrier around the Phantom, keeping her safe. It’s enough time for me to get to my feet and boost away to put distance between us.

“Don’t take them on at once,” Sif says to me, “I don’t care how good you are. The two of them know one another’s movements like the back of their own hands. Doesn’t matter if they are exes—once they are in the cockpit, they never lose focus.”

“Right.”

My sword collides with the Phantom’s, sending a shockwave reverberating through my body. I step to the side, twisting my body to use my tail to slice at her arm. Only at the last moment do I see her yellow spear thrusting towards it. I jump upwards, coiling my tail towards my body to prevent it from being struck. I recall all too well what that fiendish weapon did to me the last time we dueled.

The Morningstar is soaring, her wings creating bursts of wind as she flies across the field. She is heading straight towards the Valkyrie. I pursue from behind—the Morningstar is fast, but I am faster still. We collide in the air, our frames shuddering from the impact. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I spin midair, hurtling her to the ground with a crash that sends chunks of rock and dirt into the air.

“Keep her right there!” Sif says. “I’ll line up a shot.”

I do as she says, my left hand igniting into plasma claws. My claws rake across the Morningstar, ripping through her metal flesh. She kicks me away before I can do serious damage. With claws, blade, and tail, I press my attack relentlessly, not giving her a moment to gather her wits. Still, she parries or dodges my blows with frustrating deftness.

A piercing shot tears through the Morningstar’s wing, severing it from her body. “Damn,” Sif says. “That’ll slow her down, at least.”

There’s no time to respond. I keep up my assault, bringing my sword down on my enemy. The Phantom is there in front of me once again. Our blades smash into one another. The swarm of bits surrounds me, beams of light attempt to cut me down. It takes all my focus to avoid the barrage of attacks, everything I have not to get sliced to pieces. She pauses her attack to form a barrier again, deflecting another shot from the Valkyrie.

It’s clear that between my two opponents, the Phantom is the one with more control over the swam-bits. Her awareness is uncanny—monstrous even. I am unsure if the Valkyrie’s rifle will ever strike true so long as it is just me to occupy the Phantom’s attention. She suddenly leaps away, tracking the shot back to my partner; the Morningstar slams into me in the same moment, knocking me off my feet. Their movements are in near perfect synch with one another.

Frustration and rage boil up, my core pumping superheated plasma throughout my body. Without realizing, I am sprinting towards the Morningstar on all fours. I leap into the air, twisting my body forward, using my extended claws like a whip. She creates a barrier with the bits, but I smash through it, slicing through several of them. It was a sacrifice for her to reposition, her speed and reflexes sharp as any blade.

I dodge a slash from her sword, spinning around to cleave at her arm with my tail. She catches it and lifts me high into the air, only to smash back down against the ground. Her foot comes crashing down onto my chest, pinning me. She raises her massive battleaxe above her head, meaning to bring it down upon me. In a frenzy, I wiggle just enough to get use of my tail, the bladed tip slicing through the haft of her axe as she swings. The collision between tail and axe pushes her back a step, just enough for me to get free out from under her foot.

Leaping through the air, I catch her with my claws, digging them into her shoulders. She falls back, slamming into the ground—it’s now my turn to be on top. I press my advantage without hesitation, my tail aimed like a spear at her head.

“Winner!” Maeve shouts into the comms, “Morningstar and Phantom Queen.”

The blade stops just short of slicing through her head; the battle is over. I look over to the Valkyrie and see that the Phantom has claimed her head. Biting back my bitterness is difficult, if only I had a moment more—if only I had protected Sif better.

“Hell of a fight, Princess,” Eva says to me. “No one has given me a thrashing like that since your girl over there.”

Her praise is genuine, I can tell by the softness of her tone. It does somewhat soothe the pain of defeat. “Thank you,” I say. “I have much to learn still.”

“We all do,” she replies. “Let’s go get a drink to unwind from that. It’s our last night planet side for a while.”

Indeed, as the passion from battle wanes, I can feel that my body is coming down from the high of piloting. It was not as intense as a proper fight would have been, but a drink would not be unwelcome. “Gladly. I would like to get to know you better anyhow.”

She chuckles over the line.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

“I’m just thinking it’s funny that you kissed and pinned me down first, you know?” She speaks through a smile, a broad one by the inflection of her voice. “Usually, that happens on a second or third date.”

Heat rushes through me; I am thankful that my chrome body obfuscates my reaction. “Ah. Yes,” I say, trying to gather my composure. “Is this a subtle way of suggesting we go out on a date, Eva?”

“I’m suggesting we should go on a second date.”

“Oh,” I say, my blush deepening.

---

Hot water cascades down my skin. I stand there for a moment, letting the heat relieve the tension and aches from my muscles. Piloting is hard on the body, especially when you have a feral princess who won’t relent. If Dia hadn’t taken Sif’s head when she did, that would have been it for me. It was exhilarating—how long has it been since I was that thrilled in a fight? Not since Dia, not really; even my life in the arena pales in comparison. I had forgotten what an actual battle is like.

There is a knock on the bathroom door. My ears swivel towards the sound. “Come in,” I say.

The door behind me hisses open. Dia stands there, looking at me with those icy eyes of hers. I never could cope when she glared at me just right.

“Just going to watch?” I ask, turning so that she can get a good view of my back. “I don’t mind, but I didn’t know you developed a voyeur kink.”

To my surprise, she disrobes and steps into the shower with me, her arms wrapping around me. “Shut up,” she says, her fangs sinking into my shoulder.

I lean into the embrace and moan. “Okay, fuck.” From my toes to my tail, everything feels alive and on fire, my cock hardening in an instant. “Where is this coming from?”

“I missed you, brat,” she says. “Fighting with you made me feel like no time passed at all—I remember what we used to do after a fight.”

“Yeah,” I say, turning around to wrap my arms around her neck. Our bodies press up against one another in blissful comfort. “Fuck, I missed you, too.” I put my head on her shoulder, squeezing her tight to me. “I don’t know what I want right now, but this is nice. Just stay here with me.”

“Alright,” she says, her fingers gliding up and down my back. “Eva, for what it’s worth, I never got over you. Not for one minute.”

Stupid, irrational tears form in my eyes—at least we’re in the shower and the evidence will be washed away. “I know,” I say. “What does your cat princess have to say about you showering with a lion, hm?”

“Well, she doesn’t know I’m showering with you, but she knows I’m here. Given that she kissed you, I’m going to assume she’ll be okay with this.” Dia pets my hair for a moment more, pressing her lips to my forehead softly. “She says ‘yes’ to a date, just by the way.”

That brings a smile to my face, and more relief to my heart. I cling to her, my lips peppering her collar bone with lingering kisses. “Did it make you a little jealous she kissed me?”

“No,” she says. “It made me happy; made me think that there’s a way forward for all of us. I came here to talk about that.”

“Instead, you found me naked in the shower.” I grin, looking up at her. “And just couldn’t help yourself to a mouthful, eh?”

She squeezes my ass, lifting me up to kiss me. I crumble under the weight of her passion—like I always have, like I always will. My nails dig into her back as I return the kiss. She pushes me back against the wall, pinning me under the stream of hot water. I grin.

“Mmm.” My hand slides down her body, in between her legs. “Oh… oh!” I grin wider. “This is new,” I say, rubbing her clit.

She gasps, resting an arm above my head as I touch her. “Still getting used to it.”

“Would it be cruel of me to make you wait before I let you fuck me?” I ask, smirking up at her as I keep teasing the sensitive nub. I slip a finger inside, gleefully watching her struggle to maintain her poise. “Because, as much as I want to do this, I want to want to ask your fiancée to be my girlfriend first. That feels more proper—she is a princess, after all.”

Her hand grips my wrist, lifting it until my fingers are in my mouth. I suck eagerly, cleaning up her arousal, groaning at the taste.

“It wouldn’t be cruel,” she says. “I think she would like that.”

I take a deep breath to calm myself from my aroused high. “Okay,” I say. “But more seriously, I just want to sit with this for a while, you know? Post battle-drop isn’t the time to make a life-changing decision. Dinner. Tonight. A date for the three of us. I’ll ask her then if I feel it’s right for me—for all of us.”

Dia brushes her fingers over my face. “Perfect,” she says through a smile. “Now, turn around—I’m going to wash your hair.”

I do as she says. It’s hard not to when she uses that gentle and commanding voice on me. The shampoo is fragrant and delightful. Her fingers knead my scalp firmly. I try very hard to hold back a moan, lest I be tempted to change my mind about letting her fuck me. She saturates my hair, ensuring that she cleans every strand. It’s a bit of a process to wash my hair, a process I normally loathe to do. Dia doing it for me, however, is bliss.

We go through the motions of tending to one another. I wash and condition her hair, too, running my fingers through her silvery locks. It feels normal, like time has unfrozen and can finally move forward. Finding the recent scars on her body is a stark reminder that time has always been marching onward—for her. I am the one who has been stuck.

Fuck me; I don’t want to be stuck anymore.

 She kisses me tenderly, her hand cupping my chin as she does so. “It scared me to talk with you again,” she tells me, her brows furrowed. “Caught up in more anxiety than I’d like to admit. Gráinne helped me through that, and I’m glad she did.” Her expression is pained, her eyes watering at the edges. “I was going to leave the past in the past, to respect your wishes and never speak to you again. Fuck, I am glad that circumstances threw us together again. Really, I am.”

All I can do to not burst into tears is bury my face in her chest. It’s like it used to be, the way she holds me. She was always my rock when I lost control of my emotions, which was often. I have always been a sensitive creature, prone to irrational outbursts and hysterics.

She squeezes her arms around my shoulders and back, kissing the top of my head, stroking my hair and ears. I lean into her touch, nearly collapsing in her arms. When she was gone, I had to be my own rock—I didn’t trust anyone else to hold me like this. That time with myself made me better. It strengthened me. I was just so incredibly lonely, desperate for touch, yet too afraid to seek it out.

For once, it’s nice to have a little breakdown under scalding hot water while being held.

“Me too,” I say, my voice coming on in a choked whisper. “I was fine, I really was. You know, I was doing what I loved—fighting and having a lot of fun. I was fine, but I was never good, Dia. You were always the one who made life good. I won’t lose sight of how important that is again.”

Dia lifts my chin, pressing her lips to mine. “If you do, I’ll drag you along by force this time. Deal?”

Laughter bursts forth, cutting through the building tension in my chest. “Hmm.” I smirk, putting my hand on her face. I stare into her eyes, drinking in the sight of her. She’s so damn tall. I stand on my tiptoes, kissing her again, my lips lingering, my tongue tasting hers. “Not a deal—a promise.”

---

My last night on earth and I am on a date with two women. Truly, I am blessed. Impending battle aside, I intended to enjoy tonight to its fullest. The only thought that dampers my spirits is facing my mother tomorrow. I knew, of course, that she would see me as I am now eventually, but not this soon. Will she accept me? It is a thought that weighs heavily on my mind and one I do my utmost to shove down. If I do not, the anxiety threatens to overwhelm me; my night will not be robbed of joy. I remind myself to focus on where I am, and where I am is with my fiancée and—well, I don’t know what Eva is to me yet.

Dia has cooked for us a simple meal of garlic roasted potatoes, steak, and a medley of sauteed vegetables. Everything is cooked and seasoned to perfection, the vegetables are appropriately crunchy; the meat falls apart in my mouth and the potatoes excite my taste buds in heretofore unheard-of ways.

It is quite amusing to watch the two of them eat. Dia is so refined it would put even the highest rungs of Fomorian society to shame. Every movement is intentional—controlled. Eva, on the other hand, is like a ravenous lion, tearing into her meat with indifferent savagery. I am most certain she would give mother a heart attack should the two of them ever have dinner in the same room.

“What are you smirking at, Princess?” Eva asks, her brow arched.

I chuckle fondly. “You,” I say. “Do not mind me. I am lost in my own thoughts this evening.”

“Good thoughts?” Dia asks, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

“Yes,” I say. “I am thinking of the two of you, and those are very good thoughts.”

Eva tilts her head, her ears folding back as a grin spreads across her face. “Maybe now is a good time to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” I quirk a brow. “And what might that be?”

She leans back, spreading her legs and folds her hands behind her head; a bold, feral way of sitting. I can’t take my eyes off her and blush involuntarily.

“I want to date the both of you,” she says. “Not to put pressure on the situation, but considering the imminent danger we’re about to rush off to, I wanted to say something tonight.”

My brow furrows. I knew this was coming, as Dia had told me what had happened between the two of them in the shower. It’s even an exciting prospect, to be entangled with these two as we carry on with our life. Yet, like with Dia, there is a part of me still that has gnawing doubt, an unsafety that gives me pause.

She is lovely to gaze upon, with sharp features and musculature that begs for my fingers to touch, for my lips to kiss. Her wild, untamed nature is a delight even though, or perhaps because, she enjoys getting under my skin. The thought of a life with these two, to drown in them, makes my pulse race. Yet, I cannot bring myself to take the leap. 

“Why, Eva?” I frown, crossing one leg over the other as I lean forward to look her directly in the eyes. “Tell me the reason, or I will have to politely decline.” I look at Dia, then back at Eva, smiling warmly. “If the two of you wish to reignite your passions, I will support you both. Why involve me at all?”

Her bravado falters, her sly smirk giving way to a somber expression. “Because you enchant me,” she says. “I am here at all because you earnestly asked for help—it sure as shit wasn’t for Dia’s sake.” Eva adjusts herself, leans forward and takes my hands in hers. “I’m asking to be your girlfriend apart from, but also alongside with Dia. I’m greedy, and I want you both for wildly different reasons.”

Her touch is welcome. We intertwine our fingers and gaze into each other’s eyes. The fluttering of my heart comes back, the unease in my stomach relaxes. I sense no deception from her. Her intensity dispels my doubts. In that, Eva very much has the same effect on me as my wolf—her muscles, too. Gods, I have a type.  

“Okay,” I say, breaking through the silence. “My fear is that you see me as a trophy or an addendum to Dia. If you hope to be with me, for me, then I accept.” I smirk then, taking one hand to place on her face, stroking my thumb across her cheek. “I am also quite greedy.”

Eva’s face darkens considerably. She leans into my touch. “I want you for you,” she says softly. “I’m a simple girl, with simple tastes. All I want is for my partner to be able to kick my ass a little, and um… yeah, you sure did.”

“Well, you annoyed me,” I say, smirking. “But I like the way you annoy me.”

She preens, her face wearing a smug smile. “I look forward to annoying you for a long time.”

I chuckle softly, lifting my hand to stroke through her hair. We kiss deeply, our lips pressed against one another with tender passion. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dia watching us, a smile on her face. I reach over and grab her, pulling her towards us.

She lets out a surprised, but very cute, yelp. Quickly, I find myself alternating between them—my lion, and my wolf—tongues, lips, and hands becoming a tangled mess of desire. A hand touches my breast, I don’t know whose, and I moan. My fingers grab at hair and clothes, pulling these two towards me so tightly I fear we might fuse into a singular being of pure ecstasy.

I pull away from them, breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. “Dia, our bed had better be able to fit three.”

The bed can very much fit three. In a flurry of crazed activity, the three of us are laid bare, mouths and hands all over one another. My lips latch to Eva’s breasts; a hand on her cock, stroking her until she moans my name. Dia’s tongue laps at my cunt. Every neuron fires intensely, my body overwhelmed from touching and being touched. Fingers dig deep inside me until my wolf is fist deep in me, my insides squeezing and pulsing until I cum again and again.

Dia mounts my face, grinding her hips as I desperately lick her and drink as much of her as I can. Above me, I see Eva’s cock buried in my wolf’s mouth. Guttural moans fill the room, my lovers saying one another’s names. I would join the chorus if not for my mouth being occupied by my dripping fiancée.

Eva is thrown to the bed, Dia mounting her and grinding herself against Eva’s swollen cock. She teases as she grinds, frottribing until our lion cums over her stomach and chest. Only then does she take her inside herself, hands on Eva’s breasts as she grinds her hips back and forth. I straddle Eva’s head, squeezing my thighs around her face. Dia’s mouth is on mine as we use our lover’s body until we’re satisfied. Tongues dance with one another, our hands touching and kneading each other’s breasts.

Before long, I’m on my back, Eva deep inside me, her hips driving her cock inside me so hard the bed shakes. I see Dia wearing the strap, glowing red lines igniting along the shaft as it connects to her brain. She thrusts herself into Eva, fucking her as she fucks me. We form a rhythmic waltz of sex and bliss; I scream and moan into my lion’s mouth. This goes on, this simultaneous chain of rutting, until Eva’s cum pours inside me, her seed driven deeper and deeper as she rolls her hips.

Spent, exhausted, and well fucked, we collapse into a tangled mess on the bed. I grapple an arm to my chest; a leg covers me. I fall asleep entwined with them, lovingly in the middle. My last thought as I drift into peaceful slumber is that being between the two of them—my lion and my wolf—was far better in reality than anything I could have imagined.

---

There are few things better than waking up with the women you love in various positions over and under one another. Gráinne and Eva are still asleep when I’m roused; I watch them fondly until I feel forced to gently wake them. If not for our regenerative capabilities, none of us would be able to move after last night. It’s tragic that we can’t linger in this mass cuddle as I am wont to do. Too many things to take care of—to prepare for war. Reluctantly, the three of us get up, exchange kisses, and hurry through our morning.

The ship is ready; supplies are being packed, and the mechs are loaded. The morning sky is clear, always a good sign on the day one sets out on a journey, or so they say. All that remains is to say goodbyes. Gráinne isn’t quite ready to face her mother, who arrived just a few moments ago with Brigid in toe. Aoife is staying at the hospital; her condition is critical.

“Dia,” she says to me, her tone barely above a whisper. “Will my mother hate me, do you think?”

I wrap my arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tight. “No,” I say. “I think becoming a catgirl might take her by surprise to be sure, but no, she won’t hate you.”

She nods into my chest. I hold her for a moment longer as she steadies herself. When she’s ready, she pulls away and marches out of the room, a look of sheer determination on her face. I follow wordlessly behind, supporting her as best I can with my presence.

Almost everyone is in the hangar, doing final preparations on the ship before we set off. Layla and Quinn are missing, most likely inside doing system checks. It’s a scramble of activity all around except for my mother and Ceridwen, who are talking on the catwalk overlooking the hangar itself.

At our approach, Ceridwen turns to look at us, her eyes immediately drawn to her daughter. She rushes towards Gráinne and embraces her tightly.

“You look well,” she says finally, pulling away to get a good look at her. “You look happy.”

Gráinne smiles faintly. “I am,” she says. “I am very happy, and most glad that you are hale and whole. Will… will Aoife make it?”

Ceridwen grimaces. “I believe so,” she says, “but it will be quite the recovery. She saved our lives—Saoirse too, but…”

“I see,” Gráinne says, turning to look at me. “Saoirse was the one who tried to kill you.”

My heart goes out to both of them, though I didn’t know the woman besides the aforementioned attempted murder. “I see. We’ll add her to the list of people who deserve justice.”

Gráinne sets her jaw tightly, nodding at me. “Yes.” She turns to look back at her mother. “Would that I could, I would wait for Aoife to wake up, but we need to leave as soon as possible—to save as many as we still can.”

Ceridwen stiffens her lip and raises her chin. A thousand distressed emotions cross over her eyes, but she keeps control over all of them in a way only an empress could. “Then go with my blessing, and my love. Viviana has been kind enough to let me know what you plan to do.” She turns to look at my mother, wearing something of a fond expression. “Promise you will come back, Gráinne.”

“We will, but I need something from you.” She steps away from her mother, her gaze passing over each of us. “I am going to kill father.” Her voice is filled with icy rage, like a blizzard in the mountains. “The heads of the noble houses will have one chance to surrender the entire Fomorian Armory to me—any who live will face severe tribunals.”

“Did you know about this?” Mother asks me, her brows furrowed.

“Of course,” I tell her, smirking. “I am her champion, after all.”

Mother rolls her eyes. “Right, well, I don’t expect either of you to reign as empress and consort. So, what happens after?”

“On the warpath, we will meet with the union leaders who are already rising against the Armory,” Gráinne says. “When it’s over, I will dissolve the empire completely and give it to them. Under the condition that whatever rises from the ashes adopts the values of empathy and egalitarianism—no exceptions.”

Ceridwen sighs, her face relaxing into a soft expression. “I see. You have never wanted the throne. Now you’ll take it only to destroy it. I am proud of you.” She takes her daughter’s hands in hers, closing her eyes. When she opens them next, her eyes emit a green hue, data passing between her and her heiress. It takes only a moment, the light fading as her eyes return to their normal hazel. “You are now Empress of the Fomorian Armory, Gráinne MacAirt—all my authority is now with you.”

Last goodbyes are said between them. I excuse myself for the time being to go help with the preparations. I find Eva speaking with Brigid and Sif near the ship’s open cargo ramp. Helper drones are loading even more supplies onto the ship, enough to last a year. It’s an over precaution, but it’s always better to have more than you need when traveling in space.

“Nice to see you again, Miss Mirren,” Brigid says, bowing her head formally. She notes my ears and tail, a small smirk on her lips. “You always struck me as rather wolfish. Are all worlds in Central as eccentric as Earth?”

“Yes,” I say. “I encourage you to see as much of Earth as possible. It’s early summer in the Northern Hemisphere.”

She blinks several times, shaking her head. “Oh, no. I’m coming with you, of course.”

“Your choice,” I say, furrowing my brow. “I didn’t think you would want to throw yourself into danger so soon after the attack on Fianna. Tell me about your skills.”

Her lips curl up into an easy-going smile as she brushes her pink braids back over her shoulder. “It was my fate to take over House Áine’s fleet—moot now that the emperor seized it. I will be your tactician, your overwatch, while you and the other pilots engage directly with our foes.”

Sif clears her throat. “I need a spotter, too,” she says. “You and the others can’t really help with that, and there’s certain things she’d be able to help me do. Long-range shots that would be impossible otherwise, for example.”

Brigid looks over at Sif, her eyes looking the sniper up and down; her gaze lingering overlong. “Marvelous. I look forward to it.”

“Welcome to the team,” I tell her. “I’m glad that we’re firmly on the same side now.”

She chuckles, grinning widely as she crosses her arms over her chest. “As am I, Miss Mirren.”

“Dia,” I say. “We’re on the same team. No need to be formal.”

“Very well.” Brigid smirks, her eyes going back to gaze upon Sif.

Eva claps her hands together. “Fuck yes,” she says. “I am so ready to kick some ass, but there is one thing that we have to do before we set out or everything’s fucked.”

It feels good to see Eva so enthused about this. I can’t help but draw the comparison to the day we tore ourselves apart; the tears, the anger, the bitterness we both felt. “What do we have to do?” I ask, smirking at her.

“You gotta name her, Dia,” she says, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder at the ship. “It’s her maiden voyage and so she needs a name! It’s bad luck otherwise. You wouldn’t want us to die because of a stupid engine malfunction or something, would you?”

It’s also good to see that she’s back to her old self, the way she was with me before. It’s almost like our breakup didn’t happen—almost. “I know that, brat,” I say, rolling my eyes. “There’s a name I have in mind for her. I just want everyone here. Her name isn’t my choice alone.”

Without a word, Eva dashes off to gather everyone with all the grace and speed of an actual lion. It only takes her a few moments to bring everyone around me. Their eyes are on me, mine on them. What started off as a crusade I was fully prepared to go alone has now grown beyond my wildest expectations.

“Hi,” I say, somewhat awkwardly. I’m not used to this many people bearing down on me. I much prefer to act unseen or unheard. “Suppose I should give something of a speech, shouldn’t I?”

“For good luck!” Eva flashes me a shit-eating grin. She’s enjoying my discomfort.

Gráinne smiles softly at me, her head slightly tilted to the side. “I would hear what my champion has to say, yes,” she says, exchanging a glance with Eva.

They are both enjoying my discomfort—fuck me.

“When I look at all of you, I think that we’ve already achieved the impossible. The Fomorian Armory is on the cusp of cannibalizing itself. The most advanced ship in human history is ready to carry us to victory. All we have to do is finish the job.” I look up at the ship, at our ship. “The name I had in mind for her is the Banféinní.”

“That’s a perfect name,” Gráinne says. “I second it.”

“Me three,” Layla adds. “A pretty, powerful name for an incredible ship.”

The others offer their agreement, sounding off one by one. Despite what our mission entails, the mood is upbeat and optimistic. I look outside; the skies are still clear. The sun hangs high in the sky, blanketing the surface with gentle warmth.

It’s a good day to set out on a journey.