Anala was enveloped in warmth. Her body thrummed with a soft drone of drawing energy. She floated in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness for what felt like a long time, but she could never be sure. The heat was accompanied by a smell, a warm, piquant fragrance. Like a warm fire. There was a sweet hint to it, and with it a familiar lure that made her burrow into it. The darkness was lightening and she groaned, wanting to stay in that in-between place for a while longer. Anala yawned and blinked sleepily. She lay on Emmett's bare chest, leg draped over his hip. Anala rolled off him and sat up. She slipped off the bed and stretched, pausing as she caught her reflection in the closet mirror. She looked down, touched the marks on her thigh. Anala stepped to the door-length mirror and looked at herself. The twisting, curved characters on her left thigh trailed upwards and underneath the hem of her underwear. They were deep black, a dot or line above or running through some of the inscriptions. Anala pushed off her underwear, letting them fall to the floor, and ran her hand up the inky trail that began at her hip. She pulled off her thin camisole, seeing three vertical rows of markings along the right side of her ribcage. Another on the side of her left arm, a bold symbol with dark lines curling around it and forming a band around her arm.

Anala paused.

This mark wasn't familiar to her. It was set on her chest, between her breasts just above the base of her sternum. The symbol was intricate, with dark flowing lines as if painted by a reedy brush. A thick black circle surrounded it, forming symbols against the lighter tone of her skin. Black lines surrounded it, creating an ornate design around it, smaller cyphers circling between the design and the bordered symbols.

A mark of a Mate.

Emmett's reflection moved, sitting up. He sat for a moment, looking down at himself. Anala stared at herself curiously.

"Did I . . . was I just . . .?"

"You were asleep," she murmured as she pulled her hair over her shoulder, turning her body. Two long rows of calligraphy written in the same ancient language as the ones on her thigh and ribs trailed down her back, going from one end of her spine to the other.

"What?"

"Your body took in a lot of energy last night, you slept while it bonded with your own."

Anala faced herself again and ran her hands over her skin. She had forgotten what they had looked like, what she had looked like. Nostalgia made her heart warm. She felt incomplete however, missing one vital trait, but for the first time in a hundred and sixty odd years Anala felt right. The misplaced feeling she had always felt deep inside when she looked at herself was absent this time. Emmett moved in silence, suddenly standing behind her. The warmth of him was seeping into her back and even though he ran his eyes over her naked reflection, her body responded to the gaze. She turned to him. Emmett scanned his eyes over her. The red was almost gone, a yellow tone blending into the faded ruby. His fingers touched her ribcage, pressing against the Marks there.

"Wow," he murmured. He brushed his fingers over her arm. Emmett knelt, sliding his hand down her hip and running his thumb over her thigh. "What do they mean?"

Anala reached down and slowly guided his fingers up her thigh to her hip. "These are the marks of a Layame. They identify you, which clan you come from."

"Clan?"

"Layame is a class of beings, like Human. Same species but not all the same. There are different kinds, different traits or specific abilities and energies passed down through our Mage ancestors, hence the difference in markings."

"How many are there?" his eyes raised to hers. A low burn was kindled in her belly.

"Seven."

"Which are you?"

She paused. "That would depend on who you asked."

Anala trailed his big warm hand upwards, across her torso. She guided his fingers down her ribs, sighing at the feel of his touch. His other hand pressed to the back of her thigh, just beneath her ass. "These are Scripts of the Goddess. Hisith Rslis."

"Hisith Rslis," he repeated perfectly. The deep, husky tenor of his voice made them sound much more erotic than they were. Emmett stood. "What does that mean?"

"Very roughly translated: Blessed Inscriptions. We all receive these, no matter the clan, but again, none are the same." She looked to his body. "Yours go along your shoulder."

"And the one on your arm?"

"Royal family," she whispered. His hand had moved slowly from the back of her thigh to slide over her ass to rest against the small of her back. His eyes traveled down her chest.

"And this one?" he asked quietly. His fingers pressed against it and she shivered at the rush of power that flowed into her. "Maeku." Her hand pressed to his chest, over his own mark. "Mate."

Emmett smiled as he traced it. "My mate . . . it's beautiful."

After a long pause he traced her spine and she answered the silent question. "Those are specific to me. Element of power, they call it the path of the heavens because when they appear it tells the name of the star you were born under, lunar alignment."

"So instead of going up to you and say 'hey baby, what's your sign?' I can just read it off you?"

Anala laughed. "Not exactly. It's more like a spiritual fingerprint. They show your connection to all life and in turn it to you."

Emmett pulled her against him, hands cupping her ass. He lifted her and she could feel his erection pressing against her through the fabric of his jeans. She held his broad shoulders instinctively to keep from falling though she knew he wouldn't drop her. He grinned and shifted her, rocking her so her sensitive clit rubbed against the steel rod covered in denim. Anala barely restrained her gasp as she tightened her thighs around him.

"Tell me more, oh wise one."

Nolan leaned over the table as he scoured the maps before him. It contained his lands: the Chandael Forests, which surrounded his home. From the Mountains in the north, home to the Ael'z tribes, to the coastal shores of the Thotanah and all in between was passed down through the ages to him. He had already visited the lands of the Neancri, Morrala, and Citaxis to begin establishing trade routes with whatever people that had survived in the areas after the fall of the Crown. His people were so scattered. He would set things right. Nolan looked up at the sound of the door opening. The others were on the lower level of the warehouse and he was alone in the loft. Anala walked across the floor. He smiled as she approached him.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to help you."

Nolan straightened. "With what?"

She rested a hand on her hip. Her presence was soothing, her power filling the space and his own reacted to the familiarity of his twin. Her brow raised. "They are my people too Nolan. I will make sure they are taken care of."

"That's my job."

"And mine is to help you." She sat. "Now, what am I looking at?"

Anala gave him an expectant look and Nolan began explaining his plans. The trade routes were still in progress, not yet ready to begin anything until order was restored. He had visited every encampment and community that was on this plane in the past year, there were thirty of them, each containing anywhere from two hundred to five thousand people, numbers that pained him at the evidence of how close their race had come to extinction due to such a horror placed upon his people at the hand of Nolan's own flesh and blood. They had been forced to enter the human realm, but this was not Home, even to those born here they could sense the call, the urge to return to a place they never knew. He explained the challenges of crop and gaining trust of the Vai'aro, who bordered his homeland. They were uncertain, but they were one of the strongest race of Layame, born warriors and could help reinforce the lands. He wasn't expecting attacks but there was no harm in using caution and Nolan didn't want his people rived. They had been so for too long. Anala listened attentively, intelligent eyes glowing as he spoke.

Then she said something Nolan hadn't even thought of since her return.

"Why don't I go?"

Nolan you fucking idiot.

Anala was the Oracle. A symbol of peace and strength and the guiding hand of the Goddess herself. Anala had served as council even for other beings. He had witnessed her bring two realms on the brink of war to peaceful terms in a day and a night. She was respected, esteemed not only for her royal blood but for veneration with their people, her birthright. It made so much sense. But the protective brother in him worried for her safety. Arguing with her would be pointless so Nolan compromised. "Alright, but only after you've transitioned completely, and I get to decide if you're ready."

Anala rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine." She picked up a pen and wrote down a series of runes on a slip of paper. "Try these for the land. Carve them into stone and place them evenly around the areas you are trying to grow on. They should help the land restore itself naturally."

She stood and he kissed her cheeks. "Where would I be without you?"

"In some kind of trouble no doubt. I could make a list."

"And Emmett?"

She paused. "Oh crap, right."

He laughed. "How about I handle him and you take Zain and Kadaus with you when the time comes."

"No, I'll take him with me. I want to share our land with him. As for Zain and Kadaus, I'll only need Rowan."

"Then they'll keep you company." He wasn't going to compromise. Not on this.

Anala bowed mockingly. "As you wish my Ahrahn."

Katewatched Emmett as he swore at the television. She mentally shook her head at his fixation with sport. She understood it but the vampire was obsessed and Jasper was right there with him, laughing at his agitation. Men. Emmett leaned forward as he watched a man sprinting his way across a field, football tucked under his arm, and leaned his elbows on his knees. His arms bulged beneath the material of his black shirt. He was truly a perfect specimen of their kind. Tall and powerfully built like the illustrious gladiators of the ancient Roman arenas. She had seen him hunt on several occasions, she knew of the raw, untamed power that resided in his flawless form. Emmett was a striking beast beneath his laid-back character. She looked up at the sound of the front door opening, accompanied by a steady heartbeat and an odd, fragrant scent. A few moments later Anala entered the room, pulling off her grey jacket.

Anala smiled at her in greeting and Kate returned it, observing her critically. She was gorgeous, Kate could admit. Her long sable hair was pinned up in an effortless style, tendrils of her long bangs sliding into her face. The curiously intense green of her eyes glowed against her warm caramel skin and the dark of her hair, and her full lips were an attractive dark red. Somehow the simple skinny jeans and loose long-sleeved crop top almost seemed enviable. Anala touched Emmett's hair and the game he had been so engrossed in was suddenly forgotten. Why was it that his effortless smile seemed different when it was aimed at her? Why did his hands, hands Kate had seen grind boulders to dust and be used as the deadliest of weapons, hold her so tenderly? Why did that strange look fill his eyes as he looked at her? Kate had never received such a look, not even in their best of moments did Emmett give her a look that compared to the one she witnessed now.

That should've been her.

In years passed Kate had brought many men to their knees before her but she herself had fallen to only one. She had brought Emmett close and could've made him love her if it weren't for the sudden appearance of this . . . this woman Kate couldn't even dislike. Beautiful and kind and mysterious—it sickened her. He was supposed to be hers. Though despite everything she felt, Kate could see what Anala meant to him, what a different man he was with her than without. He loved her, and there would be nothing she could do to change it. Emmett leaned down to kiss Anala and took her jacket, tossing it onto the couch. Her hands reached up to touch the curls at the back of his head, causing the hem of her shirt to rise and expose a bit more skin and the sight of his hand on her lower back. The moment between them ended, no more than half a minute but felt like so much longer. Emmett leaned against the back of the couch and placed a hand on her waist as Anala greeted Jasper warmly.

"Nolan isn't here," he told her as he smiled at her.

"I know Jazz, I was with him."

Rosalie entered and hugged Anala from behind. It was no secret Rosalie and Anala were close, they were often found at each other's sides. "Finally! I thought you'd never get here. Come on. You have to see what I found for you."

"Hey!" Emmett protested.

"Shut up and watch your game. It's my turn to play with her."

"But she's mine!"

"I'm not a toy," Anala muttered as she was pulled from the room. Rosalie turned to her and kissed her lips lightly.

"No, you aren't. You're better."

Emmett was smiling, chuckling as he shook his head.

What makes her so special to you Em?