The Stormrider drifted through a sky painted with gold and violet, the last rays of sunset casting long shadows across the deck.
The wind was soft tonight no howling gusts or sudden squalls just a steady, comforting breeze that pushed the skyship gently along the cloudline.
For once, there was peace.
Not just in the sky.
But in the hearts of those aboard.
Alistair Von Wolfenstein stood at the helm.
His coat hung loose over his broad frame, the edges of his shirt unbuttoned a far cry from the roguish captain who had once fought sky pirates, dodged rival fleets, and weathered every storm both in the air and within his own heart.
Now, he didn't stand alone.
Because beside him
Was them.
Seraphina Blackthorn and Isolde Greaves.
The storm and the frost.
The fire and the blade.
The women who had once threatened to tear him and each other apart.
But now, there was no distance between them.
No battle lines drawn.
No weapons at the ready.
Just them.
Together.
Seraphina, ever the storm.
She leaned against the ship's railing, her dagger flicking effortlessly between her fingers a habit she would never break but tonight, there was no anger in the movement.
Just a quiet rhythm.
Her dark hair was a little looser than usual, the streaks of copper catching the last light of the day.
And when her gaze slid over to Isolde, there wasn't the usual heat the biting edge of a rivalry long fought.
There was something else.
Something warmer.
"Bet you ten gold I hit the mast from here," Seraphina said, flipping her dagger playfully.
Isolde, standing just a few feet away, arched a pale brow.
"Make it fifteen," Isolde replied smoothly, the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.
Alistair chuckled under his breath. "Careful, Seraphina. She's a better shot than you."
Seraphina gasped in mock outrage. "Captain, you wound me!"
Isolde's lips almost formed a smile. "Don't tempt me."
But there was no venom in her words.
No frost in her voice.
Just a quiet, familiar tease a game they both seemed to enjoy far more than they'd ever admit.
Isolde, sharp as ever but softened.
She stood with her arms crossed, the hilt of her rapier resting lightly against her hip.
Her long silver hair usually pinned and perfect now had a few stray strands slipping loose, a rare sight for the woman who once held herself like an unyielding blade.
But tonight, her posture wasn't stiff.
It was… easy.
Relaxed.
And when Alistair's hand found the small of her back a simple, unspoken gesture Isolde didn't pull away.
If anything, she leaned into him, just a fraction.
A silent confirmation of the bond they had forged not through war, but through choice.
The Calm After the Storm.
The sky darkened, and the first stars flickered to life above them.
The crew below deck sang softly some old sea shanty about lost loves and long voyages but their voices were light, not weighed down by fear or tension.
Because the war was over.
Not just between Alistair, Seraphina, and Isolde
But within themselves.
They weren't running anymore.
Not from each other.
Not from what they felt.
And as the Stormrider sailed into the night, Alistair finally spoke his voice rough, but warm.
"You know," he said softly, "I used to think we were bound to tear each other apart."
Seraphina tilted her head, her smile lazy but genuine. "We still might."
Isolde's gaze flickered between them but this time, there was no ice.
"Or," Isolde murmured, "we might just surprise ourselves."
Alistair's chest ached but not with the weight of uncertainty.
With relief.
With love.
Because these two women fire and frost, chaos and control weren't just his rivals anymore.
They were his family.
And they had chosen each other not to destroy, but to endure.
Together.
Under the Stars.
As the night deepened, Alistair wrapped an arm around each of them Seraphina laughing softly as she leaned into his side, Isolde resting her head against his shoulder with a quiet sigh.
The three of them once a storm of clashing hearts now stood beneath the same sky.
No longer rivals.
No longer enemies.
Just… them.
Bound not by battle
But by love.
And as the Stormrider sailed on, Alistair Von Wolfenstein realized something simple.
The storm had broken.
And in its place
Was peace.