​The rhythm was slow, majestic, and entirely overwhelming. Every deliberate thrust felt like a wave of pure creation crashing into my soul, violently burning away the gray, invisible memory of my pathetic life as Stephanie. The dismissive glances of my parents, the shadow I was as I walked the hallway of my college, the incompetent me, the clanking of the aluminum crutches, the lonely nights spent staring at a blank screen—all of it was being ground into dust beneath the weight of his claim.

I let out a shaky, breathless cry, my legs wrapping around his waist by pure instinct, and my hands moving up to tangle in his long hair as my body entirely surrendered to the rhythm.

The pleasure was alien, heavy, and majestic, sending waves of electricity spinning down my spine. The golden slits of his eyes glowed brighter in the dim room, reflecting the absolute completion of the contract.

​When the final, shattering wave of pleasure ripped through my pussy, my very first and last orgasm as Stephanie, I clung to him like a drowning woman, my vision exploding into a brilliant, blinding white light.

​The Dragon God let out a low, victorious growl, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he poured his ancient essence into the vessel, sealing the deal and opening the portal for my soul once and for all.

He breathed into my neck, and as my vision began to fade, he whispered,

"I wish you a happy ever after, little bird."

Then, the world faded, replaced by the heavy, intoxicating scent of woodsmoke, fresh mint, and the familiar, deep rumble of a roaring indoor furnace.

The stiff silk sheets beneath my back were gone, replaced by the familiar, plush texture of heavy sheep-fur blankets.

I gasped, my eyes snapping open.

This... I looked around. I was back in the Sovereign Wing, and I was staring at the ceiling that I had woken up to ever since we moved into the castle. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"Ari...?"

​Damar’s voice cracked completely as he called out. Before the syllable could even fully leave his lips, he lunged forward, crashing into the side of the bed.

His arms wrapped around me with a desperate, suffocating tightness, burying his face into the crook of my neck. He was trembling so hard I could feel the rhythmic, frantic clicking of his tensed jaw against my skin.

​"You’re back... you’re breathing... Ari," he choked out, his silver locks tangling around my face as he squeezed me like he was trying to fuse our bodies together.

​"Damar, honey, you’re crushing my ribs here," I wheezed, but my arms instinctively locked around his back, my fingers digging into his broad shoulders.

The sheer, overwhelming reality of his skin, his cool river-water musk, and the hard muscle beneath my hands sent a wave of pure, bone-deep relief through my chest.

​In an instant, the rest of the room erupted. Noah’s heavy, large hands were suddenly framing my face, his dark eyes brimming with thick, silent tears as he pressed his forehead against mine.

Fenric dropped to his knees on the other side of the mattress, his ruby eyes wild with a mixture of raw agony and profound disbelief, while Thalor gripped my hand, his thumb frantically tracing the pulsing blue coral anchor on my wrist as if checking a fading pulse.

​"Where were you?" Noah rumbled, his voice thick, his chest heaving against the bedframe. "Your heart... it was beating so slow, Arinya. Your scent completely vanished from the palace. We couldn’t wake you. Why were you asleep for so long?"

​"We thought the delivery took your soul," Fenric rasped, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his composure and failed miserably. "We all sat here, waiting."

​I opened my mouth to answer, to tell them about how I went back to my world and realized I had broken a leg, and the bizarre paperback book of our lives on a dusty shelf. I wanted to tell them about the person who had pulled me out of that concrete hell.

​But as I tried to pull the image of his face into my mind, my thoughts stalled out.

​I blinked, a sudden, heavy fog rolling over that specific part of my brain. I remembered the basement lounge. I remembered the overwhelming pressure that had made the room feel tight. I remembered a sharp, charcoal-gray coat and a voice that slid through the air like smooth silk. But his face? His features? The name Sky-Wolf?

​It was completely gone.

​I remembered the taste of a hot latte, the brilliant orange of a maple tree, and a hug. He had given me a beautiful afternoon—a first experience the invisible girl would have never gotten in her life. He had treated me like a masterpiece.

​I couldn’t remember anything else, though. How I got here, how he brought me back, none of it, but there was a lingering taste at the tip of my soul.

Still, I swallowed hard, a profound, quiet wave of gratitude washing over my chest. I didn’t remember his name, and I didn’t remember how the portal had opened, but I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that someone out there had looked at my miserable human self and handed me my paradise.

​Thank you, I breathed silently into the space behind my eyelids. Thank you for sending me home.

​"Ari?" Damar pulled back slightly, his emerald eyes searching my face with an intense, worried scrutiny. "What’s wrong? What do you remember?"

​I let out a soft, genuine chuckle, a tired but triumphant smirk finally settling back onto my lips as I reached up and wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

​"Nothing that matters now," I said, my voice returning to that clear, commanding tiger authority they all relied on. "Let’s just say... I had a very long, very exhausting dream. But what’s important is that I’m back, right?"

​I looked at my four husbands, my heart swelling until it felt tight behind my ribs.

"Now, enough with the long faces. Where are my babies? Where is little Nadir? I missed them so much. And more importantly, how long have I been gone?"

​Noah let out a broken laugh, kissing my lips quickly before jumping up to sprint toward the nursery wing.

The palace was suddenly alive again, the heavy, suffocating silence of the winter completely shattered by the return of the Queen.

I was home.

...

​Across the boundaries of space and time, back within the dim, quiet confines of a private human apartment, the freezing autumn drizzle tapped rhythmically against the glass windows.

​The room was silent, save for the soft, distinct sound of a book page being turned.

​A long, elegant hand rested on the cover of The Ugly Duckling That Makes The World Better. On the very last page, the ink was still fresh, sealing the final lines of the text:

​...And as the Queen returned to her body and reunited with her family, the shadows of the past finally dissolved. Surrounded by the winter fire and the devotion of her four pillars, she went on to make the kingdom of the West Way greater than any realm before it. She birthed more children, ruled with unmatched wit, and lived happily ever after.

​The Dragon God shut the book completely, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he put the book into a shelf.

​"Another happily ever after," he murmured, his voice echoing softly against the empty walls.

​He stood up, his tall frame moving with a terrifyingly smooth grace as he walked over to the desk.

He picked up the glossy, vintage photograph he had snapped beneath the orange maple tree—the image of a startled, beautiful girl named Stephanie, smiling genuinely for the first time in twenty-one years.

​Slowly, reverently, he brought the photo to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against her printed cheek.

​"And another lifetime where you couldn’t be mine," he whispered.

​Then, he walked over to a massive, dark wooden board hanging on the far wall and carefully pinned the new picture into place.

​The board was already covered in photographs. But they weren’t new. Some were faded and gray, taken in the early nineties. Some were sepia-toned, capturing a girl in historical, vintage dresses from different eras. Some had her laughing, some had her sketching in the dirt, but every single one of them featured the exact same face.

​Stephanie. In different lifetimes. In different eras. Always the wallflower. Always the bird with no wings. And always his muse.

​He was her guardian angel—the ancient, forgotten force that watched her fall, time and time again, just to lift her up time and time again, and ensure that she finally got the happily ever after she deserved... Even if it was never with him.

​He slid his dark sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose, completely hiding the brilliant, golden vertical slits of his eyes, and stepped back into the shadows.

​The book was shelved. The portal was closed. And the masterpiece was complete.

Now, the applause can commence.

​THIS IS THE END OF ’THE UGLY DUCKLING OF THE TIGER TRIBE.’