Epilogue
Iwoke to Sendra's hungry cries and Vorak already rising to get her.
"I've got her," he said, lifting our daughter from her cradle with infinite care. "Go back to sleep."
"Bring her here. She needs to nurse."
He brought Sendra to bed, helped position her at my breast. She latched immediately, tiny hand kneading as she fed. Vorak curved around us both.
"Remember when you thought you'd hurt her just by touching her?" I teased.
"She seemed so fragile."
"Still does," I said, touching Sendra's tiny, pointed ear. She'd inherited Vorak's ears along with my stubborn streak.
"But she's strong. Like her mother."
After Sendra finished nursing and fell back asleep, Vorak returned her to the cradle he'd built himself in his garden. Then he came back to bed with intent in his eyes.
"She'll sleep for at least an hour," he said, hand sliding up my thigh.
"You've been timing her naps for this, haven't you?"
"Absolutely." He captured my mouth. "Do you object?"
"Never."
Three months postpartum and my body had mostly recovered. We'd already discussed having another child, though I planned to take the herbs to prevent conception until the healer agreed it would be safe.
Vorak took his time, reacquainting himself with my changed body. Fuller breasts from nursing, softer belly, new curves. He worshipped every inch.
"Beautiful," he whispered against my skin. "My wife. Mother of my child. Mine."
"Yours," I agreed, then gasped as his mouth found my nipple, careful since I was still nursing.
We made love slowly at first, mindful of Sendra sleeping nearby. But passion overtook us as always, and soon he was taking me from behind while I bit a pillow to muffle my cries.
His knot swelled, something that had been happening more frequently lately as my body healed.
After, we lay, legs tangled, his hand on my belly.
"She'll have siblings someday," he said, hand stroking my belly where it was still soft from carrying Sendra. "When you're ready."
"Not for a while," I said firmly. "The healer said six months at least, though better a year. Human bodies need time to recover, even with orcish healing."
"Whatever you need." He pulled me closer. "I have you. I have Sendra. That's more than I ever dreamed possible."
"No protests? No talk of keeping me 'claimed inside and out'?"
"Oh, I'll keep you claimed," he growled, nipping at my neck. "My mark on your skin, my scent on you always, my name on your lips when you come. There are many ways to possess you without putting another child in you immediately."
"Possessive beast."
"Your possessive beast."
Sendra stirred, making small noises. Vorak checked on her, humming an orcish lullaby as he cradled her.
"She's fine," I said. "Just dreaming."
"What do you think she dreams of?" Vorak asked.
"Milk and warmth."
"Simple dreams."
"The best kind."
"I love you," I told Vorak as he settled back beside me. "For understanding. For not pushing. For being more than I ever expected."
"And I love you," he replied. "My bride. My mate. My heart. Mother of my child and whatever children we have when the time is right. But mostly, just you. Just Kaela."
Outside, the world was changing. The war was a memory.
All because a spy and a general chose love over duty.
Sometimes the best rebellions are the quiet ones. The ones where you refuse to be what others made you, and choose to become yourself instead.
I was no longer Kaela Ryn, spy. I was Kaela Dregan, wife, mother, bridge between worlds.
And I was finally, irrevocably happy.
The End