Beast Gacha System: All Mine

Chapter 288: The Beginning of a Goodbye

The beachside villa was a sprawl of white stone and terracotta, its wide windows thrown open to catch the sea breeze and its courtyard shaded by palms that swayed in the fading light.

Cecilia had been pacing the veranda for the past ten minutes, her eyes fixed on the path that wound from the road to the sea.

When the carriages appeared, she was already moving.

Arkai stepped out first, tall and dark against the golden light, his coat unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled, his hair catching the wind.

He barely had time to turn before she was in his arms, launching herself at him with the unselfconscious joy of a woman who had not seen her husband in—what, a day? A few hours? It felt like years.

He caught her. Of course he caught her. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off her feet, and she was laughing, her face buried in his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips, her whole body pressed against his like she could crawl inside his skin and stay there.

"Cece—" He was laughing too, a bit surprised and helpless.

When she saw Eastiel jump off from his carriage, she squealed.

She kissed Eastiel from over Arkai’s shoulder.

Her arm snaked out, caught his collar, pulled him in, and her lips met his while she was still wrapped around Arkai, while her legs were still locked around his waist, while her hair spilled over both of them like a golden wave.

Eastiel made a sound of surprise and pleasure. It was tinged with something that might have been a laugh, and his hand came up to cradle her jaw, holding her there, keeping her for the space of a breath that stretched into something neither of them wanted to end.

She pulled back, grinning. "How did you guys arrive together?"

Arkai’s arms tightened around her, not letting her down. "We saw each other at the teleportation gate."

Eastiel’s thumb traced her cheek absently. "The time difference is crazy." He was looking at the sky, at the sun settling into the sea, at the colors bleeding across the horizon. "It’s only afternoon at my place. It’s already sunset here."

"Feels like I’m skipping the whole day." Arkai shifted her weight, settled her more comfortably against his chest. "It was morning up north."

Cecilia hummed, content, her head resting against Arkai’s shoulder, her fingers tangled in Eastiel’s collar.

"How’s the trip?"

Oathran appeared behind them, his footsteps silent on the stone, his smile already forming. He caught Eastiel in a casual hug, one-armed and easy, and then reached for Arkai, pulling them both into his orbit.

"Not bad," Arkai answered, his voice muffled against Oathran’s shoulder.

The four of them stood there, tangled together in the fading light. But on the path, three people watched.

Eliam Edengold had stepped out of his carriage, his expression resigned, watching his son fall hopelessly in love. Well, there was nothing to be done about it.

August Dawnoro stood beside him, his face doing something complicated. His eyes fixed on his son wrapped around a woman who was kissing another man over his shoulder while a third man held them all together.

What? As if they were the only thing keeping each other from flying apart?

Roarke was behind them, pretending to adjust the luggage, and had not seen anything. Rather than watching, he chose to calculate how much more his salary would need to increase to cover the things he was going to have to unsee.

Eliam caught August’s eye. "Well," he said, his voice dry, "at least they’re happy."

August’s jaw worked. His hands, folded behind his back, tightened. "They’re..." He stopped. Started again. "This is not—"

"Proper?" Eliam’s eyebrow rose. "I don’t care, man. It looks okay to me."

"You still have a second son. I only have one son," August narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, are you implying I can throw one away because I have two?" Eliam snarked. "You had two and had to throw one away too."

"Did you teach my son something?" August grumbled, noticing how everyone and his son could find words to jab at him.

Years of leading the most prominent magic estate in the north, and this was what he got for it.

"Where’s Professor Baswara?" Eastiel asked casually, curious. He had noticed the absence and was not quite sure why it bothered him. The old man kinda grew on him, perhaps.

Oathran chuckled. "He had things to do." His hand found Eastiel’s shoulder, squeezed once. "It’s fine. I’ll introduce you to him in the real world later."

The three of them turned to him, their faces brightening, their eyes going wide, excited like young men who had been promised something they had only dreamed of. "Ooooh," Eastiel breathed. "The real one?"

"The real one," Oathran confirmed.

Arkai’s grin was sharp, eager. "The sea dragon. The legend..."

"The one who taught you to learn about everything?"

"Yep. Everything. Even the things he doesn’t know."

"The one who—"

"The one who raised me," Oathran said quietly. "Yes."

Cecilia watched them, her hand still in Eastiel’s, her shoulder still pressed against Arkai’s. Well, it was alright. They still had chances to meet Baswara later.

Now, her heart was full of hope. But also the particular grief of knowing that some of the people they loved in this world would not, could not, follow them home.

"Right," she said softly. "The most important thing now." She looked across the courtyard, to the men standing by the carriages, waiting. "Is for everyone to meet Eliam and August. And introduce Roarke."

Because in the real world, in the world that was waiting for them to come home... Eliam Edengold had been dead for years. August Dawnoro had been dead for longer.

And Roarke Raul had been a man who had done terrible things, and had terrible things done to him, and had never, in either world, been given the chance to be the man he could have been.

But here, at this moment, they were all alive. All good. All having that second chance.

Cecilia took a breath. Let it out. Smiled.

"Let’s go say hello."