Epilogue
Kavin
I wake up on Christmas morning as sunlight streams through the curtains of our bedroom, and for a moment I simply lie still, absorbing the contentment that is my normal state of being.
Mia sleeps beside me, her long brown hair spread across the pillow, one hand resting on her still-flat stomach where I know our son grows.
She doesn’t know I can already detect the subtle changes and the additional scent trail that confirms the fact that she carries our son.
I suspect she’s waiting to tell me in her own time and make it special, which I am allowing.
Our bedroom, once so sparse with just a bed and two nightstands, now shows evidence of our life together.
Her favorite lotions and lip gloss are on her nightstand along with the framed photo from our courthouse wedding last month.
The closet is filled with both of our clothes as is the bathroom we share in the hallway.
The throw blanket she insisted we needed for “cozy mornings” is draped over the chair in the corner.
I slip carefully out of bed, not wanting to wake her yet. Today is special for more reasons than just today’s human holiday.
Downstairs, our house glows with warm light from the Christmas tree Mia insisted we needed.
“Our first Christmas together has to be perfect,” she’d declared, and I’d watched in amazement as she transformed our home into something magical.
Garland on the staircase, stockings hung on the mantel, twinkling lights everywhere.
I had no idea my bride was so sentimental.
I start the coffee maker and stand at the kitchen window, looking out at our snow-covered yard.
The mature oak trees are bare now; their branches etched against the gray December sky.
In a few months, they’ll be green again, and by then our son will be showing.
The thought makes me smile. I was a solitary orc living in a sterile apartment, focused only on establishing my career as Spokane’s first orc firefighter.
I’d convinced myself that professional success would be enough, that I didn’t need the complications of a mate or family.
How wrong I was.
The work has been everything I hoped for and more.
The crew at Station 19 has fully accepted me as a competent firefighter who happens to be an orc.
Lieutenant Kowalski told me last week that my performance reviews are among the best he’s seen.
I’ve proven myself in situations that required both my orc strength and my training, saving both human and orc lives that might have been lost otherwise.
But the professional satisfaction pales in comparison to the completeness I feel with Mia. She’s integrated well into the orc community. The other males appreciate her bold nature. Talon considers her a sister now. And now, with our child coming, everything feels perfectly aligned.
There’s something else, too. A restlessness I’ve been feeling lately that makes me want to pursue the other reason I came to Spokane.
I’ve always known I have human family somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. My father told me before he died that my mother had mentioned relatives in Washington and Oregon.
For years, I’d pushed that knowledge aside, too hurt and angry to care about connections to the woman who abandoned us.
But lately, especially since learning about our child, I’ve been thinking about family differently.
Our son deserves to know all parts of his heritage.
And I find myself curious about these potential relatives.
Do I have siblings? Cousins? Is my mother still alive?
The family reunification database exists specifically for situations like mine. I’ve avoided it for years, but now, with Mia’s love making me feel unshakeable, I think I’m ready to try.
I check the time. Seven-thirty. Time for the first surprise.
I pad quietly to the laundry room, where a small orange and white kitten waits in the carrier that was delivered late last night while Mia slept.
The kitten mews softly as I lift her out, her coloring exactly what I’d requested, bright orange patches mixed with white, just like the cat named Paprika that Mia had admired in photos from Talon’s friend’s litter.
I’d contacted the breeder months ago, knowing this would be the perfect Christmas gift.
I tie a small red bow carefully around her tiny neck. She’s so small she fits in one of my hands, purring as I stroke her soft fur. “You’re going to make her very happy,” I whisper.
I climb the stairs quietly; the kitten tucked against my chest.
Mia is still sleeping, her face peaceful in the morning light. I settle the kitten gently on the bed near her pillow and wait. The kitten, curious about her new surroundings, begins to explore. She pads across the comforter and sniffs at Mia’s hair.
My bride’s eyes flutter open. For a moment she just blinks, confused. Then she sees the tiny orange and white face inches from her own. “Oh my gosh,” she breathes, sitting up carefully. “Kavin, is this?—”
“Merry Christmas,” I say, unable to keep the grin off my face.
Tears immediately spring to her eyes as she gently scoops up the kitten. “You got me a cat. You got me a cat.”
“Her name is Paprika,” I explain. “Like the spice. And like the kitten you said was so cute in those photos.”
Mia cradles the kitten against her chest, and I can see her trying not to cry. “I can’t believe you remembered that I’ve always wanted a pet. I mentioned it once, months ago.”
“I remember everything you tell me.”
She looks up at me with such love in her blue eyes that my chest tightens. “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”
“I love you too, Mia. Both of you,” I add, gesturing to the kitten who’s now purring loudly.
“Give me a few minutes so I can get ready,” my bride says as she hands over the cat and runs into the bathroom and then into the closet to change. Soon, she’s back, looking fresh and ready, wearing her favorite clothing I’ve learned she calls “loungewear.”
“Come on,” Mia says, with Paprika back in her arms. “Let’s go downstairs and introduce her to her new home properly.”
We make our way to the living room, where the Christmas tree lights create a warm glow. Mia settles on the couch with the kitten while I finish making our coffee. Paprika immediately begins exploring, her tiny paws silent on the hardwood floors.
“She’s perfect,” Mia says, watching the kitten sniff around and investigate the base of the Christmas tree. “Absolutely perfect.”
I hand my bride a mug of coffee and settle beside her on the couch with my own steaming mug. This is everything I never knew I wanted, quiet morning moments with my mate, watching our new pet explore the home we’ve built together.
“I have a surprise for you too,” Mia says after we’ve sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. She reaches under the tree and retrieves a small, wrapped package, no bigger than my palm.
“What is it?” I ask, noting her nervous energy.
“Open it and see.”
I carefully unwrap the small box, aware that whatever’s inside has Mia unusually anxious. When I lift the lid, I stare for a moment before the significance hits me.
A pregnancy test. With two clear lines. This is when I need to pretend that I had no idea, so I can let her have her moment.
My eyes snap to hers. “Mia?”
“Surprise,” she whispers, her voice catching. “We’re going to have a baby.”
I set the box aside and pull her into my arms, careful not to disturb Paprika who’s now batting at a low-hanging ornament.
For a moment I can’t speak, because even though I’ve known, I’m surprisingly overwhelmed by the magnitude of this moment, happy that we can now freely speak of our growing offspring.
“When did you know?” I ask when I find my voice.
“I suspected for a few days, but I took the test yesterday morning while you were at work. I wanted to be sure before I told you.”
I place my hand gently on her stomach. “Our son.”
“Our son,” she agrees. “We can’t tell anyone else yet, though. I’m only one month in and it’s a tradition amongst humans to not say anything to anyone until you’re past the first trimester. I want to wait that long, then we can tell everyone.”
I nod, deciding to not comment that all orcs who she has previously come in contact with, and any she will meet up with prior to her three-month deadline, will all secretly scent my son in her womb. But I will do my best to help her follow this human custom.
She leans into me, and we sit quietly for a moment, watching Paprika explore while absorbing the reality of our expanding family.
“He’s going to grow up in this house,” Mia says softly. “This makes me happy.”
I nod in agreement. The contrast to my own childhood isn’t lost on me.
Our child will have everything I missed.
He’ll never know the abandonment and loss that shaped my early years.
“I want to tell you something,” I say, the moment feeling right for the conversation I’ve been building toward. “About why I really came to Spokane.”
Mia shifts to look at me fully. “I thought it was for the firefighter position and the orc-friendly community.”
“That was part of it. But there was another reason.” I take a breath, gathering my thoughts.
“I moved across the country because I’ve always known I have human family somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. My father told me before he died that my mother had mentioned relatives in Washington and Oregon. ”
Her eyebrows raise. “You have family here?”
“Potentially. I don’t know specifics. But there’s a family reunification database for situations like mine. I’ve been thinking about our son, about him knowing both sides of his heritage. And I feel ready now to do a real search.”
“Kavin, that’s a wonderful idea.” Her response is immediate and enthusiastic. “Of course we should look for them. What if you have siblings? Cousins? What if—” She pauses. “What if your mother is still alive?”