Epilogue #2
Zola handed our son to her mate, and Shaw softened. “Rhea and Talon will be thrilled that their pack of little monsters will have someone who can keep up with them.”
“Right?” I laughed. “How many are they at now? Two girls and a boy?”
“With one more on the way,” Shaw added.
When the dust settled after Minaeve fell, I worked with Talon and Adohan to conjure the eternal flame with my healing magic, and I was able to overturn the shadow rot, saving Talon.
He and Rhea decided to remain in Solace after the battle, along with a pack of shifters and High Fae who sought a new life for themselves.
The birth of their first daughter, Kaiti, came later that year, with Rhea insisting they have more.
Caitlyn came next, followed by their son, Dylan.
The announcement of their fourth pregnancy last month was no surprise to any of us.
“I plan on teleporting to Solace next week to bring them here to meet him,” Daxton said. “No one was planning on you being in labor for another month, Spitfire.”
“Thank you, Daxton,” I said, placing my hand in his. “It lines up perfectly with our monthly get-togethers. I can’t wait to surprise them with the news.”
“But,” he said, lifting my hand to his lips, “I believe there is someone I need to bring in now… or else we’ll never hear the end of it.”
I narrowed my eyes in confusion before straightening. “Oh, gods!” I exclaimed. “Yes, yes, go! Oh, she’s going to kill me for not telling her sooner.”
Daxton smiled sweetly. “I believe our son will help soften that blow. Be right back, Spitfire.”
He kissed my brow and then stepped back to teleport away.
I leaned back on the pillows, my stomach rumbling so loud it echoed across the walls. “Oh, gods—”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it,” Gunnar said, marching toward the door. “Any special request?”
“Anything. Everything you can carry.” I was starving. I didn’t think I had ever been this hungry before in my entire life, and that was saying something.
“At your command, my queen.”
“I’ll jump to Crimson City and tell Adohan and Idris the news,” Zola said, stepping to the corner draped in shadows. “Ember will be overjoyed to learn she has a new playmate.” And then she jumped away.
“I can’t wait to see them again,” I said to Shaw.
Idris and Adohan visited Silver Meadows last month with Ember in tow, now six years old and full of wonder and magic. She could also talk your ear off about pegasi and had a keen imagination, creating stories that sometimes made more sense to her than anyone else.
Footsteps sounded near the doorway as Shaw carefully handed my son back to me. My baby didn’t even stir. He slept as if the chaos of the world could never touch him.
The door swung open with a loud thud.
“Finally,” Castor announced, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought that thing was going to tear you in two, and I’d have to drag Daxton back from the brink of death. Again.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really, Castor? Do you have to be so loud?”
“Always.” He smirked.
“Did you send word to—”
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving me off. “I sent two letters. One to Princess Réalta and another to Gilen and Alistar. Both replied that they will come to visit within the month. And offer their congratulations.”
Peace in Valdor was no longer a dream, but a reality.
Fallen disappeared with Minaeve’s magic, along with the harpies and garmr. The hunters were given a choice to allow Isolde and the other human healers blessed with magic to strip them of their abilities or die by my flames. To mine and Réalta’s disappointment, many chose the latter.
I healed Gilen on the battlefield, and he chose to remain in Solace.
He earned the title of a sub-alpha, overseeing our people on the mainland with his father, Alistar, close by his side.
Réalta, my cousin, lived up to her promise and granted peace with the humans.
Gilen and the princess worked well together after the war, signing treaties and, with my approval, granting freedom to all to live within the lands.
There were no more shifter or human territories.
Everyone had the freedom to live where they wished.
I had a sneaky suspicion that there was something more than court politics between them, but to this day, they refused to stake a claim to any such bond.
Lame. I was really hoping for something there.
Nyssa appeared beside Castor, her expression full of amusement as her fingers moved gracefully. “Did you really expect anything different?”
“Alright.” Castor clapped his hands together. “Where is—”
“He,” I cut in. “He is right here.” I moved upright, easing my son so the light touched his face, giving Castor a clear view of his nephew.
Castor stilled. And for once, the High Fae, known for his silver tongue and a complete lack of a verbal filter, said nothing.
I watched as his breath caught, his dark stare never leaving my son’s face.
“Castor?” Nyssa signed gently, stepping closer. “My love?”
Silently, Castor moved toward me. He reached out, hovering his hand above the tiny blanket-wrapped bundle, as if afraid the slightest contact might shatter something sacred. The show from before fell away from him piece by piece, leaving only raw, stunned awe in its place.
“Gods,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “He’s… he’s so small.”
Nyssa’s hand slipped onto his shoulder as she smiled down at my child.
“Small?” I chuckled. “He’s nearly ten pounds, Castor. And he sure didn’t feel small coming out.”
Castor swallowed hard, blinking fast. His eyes were glowing with something deeper. Something unguarded. “He’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice cracking on the last word.
“Here,” I said, placing my baby in his uncle’s arms.
His brows raised with surprise as the baby cooed softly, opening his eyes and staring at Castor for the first time. My son made a babbling sound, but he didn’t cry. He only reached for his uncle, curling his finger around Castor’s pinky.
Nyssa leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the baby’s head. “He already loves you, Castor.”
Castor huffed a quiet, shaky laugh. “Yeah, well… he’d better. I plan on spoiling him rotten.” He glanced beside me as Daxton teleported back into the room with company in tow. “My brother will have to try and stop me.”
But when he looked back at my son, the swagger slipped again, replaced by an admiration so rare in him it made my throat tighten.
“Sky!” Neera had barely taken two steps toward my bed before her expression shifted, the softness I’d known the last twenty-eight years tightening into something sharper.
Her eyes narrowed. “Skylar,” she said, her voice still gentle but with an edge of hurt, “you went into labor… and you didn’t summon me?”
Her gown, a deep moss green, faded to black at the hem, rustled around her bare feet. Silver threads wove through the fabric in swirling patterns of roots and stars. Her dark midnight hair cascaded in long, loose waves.
Daxton inhaled quietly while Castor snorted in amusement, and Seamus chuckled softly, shaking his head. He placed his hand on the small of Neera’s back. A subtle gesture, but enough to say he was already preparing to mediate if needed.
I sighed. “Neera—”
“No!” She crossed her arms, her midnight waves swaying along her hips. “No, I am your cousin. Your sister. I should have been here the second the first contraction started.”
“Neera,” Seamus murmured in warning, moving his hand to her arm.
She shook him off, although her expression softened for a fraction of a second as she looked toward him. “Six hours of pushing, Skylar. Six!”
“Yes, I know. I was the one doing the pushing,” I teased.
Neera stared me down. “And I had to hear it from Daxton after the fact? Do you know how worried I—”
A tiny, gentle sound broke the tension.
All heads snapped toward Castor, who was holding my son against his chest.
The baby cooed again, and that was the end of Neera’s resentment.
Her whole body seemed to melt. Her anger dissolved the instant her attention turned toward our son, replaced by awe so pure it nearly glowed. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and tears immediately filled her lashes.
“Oh, oh gods—” she choked, already rushing across the room. “Give him to me. Castor, give him, please. I need to hold him.”
Castor held the baby a little closer to his chest. “Hold on, now, I just got him settled—”
“Castor.” Neera’s voice was the closest to a growl I’d ever heard. “Hand. Him. Over.”
“I wouldn’t push her,” Seamus said with a hint of a smile in his tone.
Castor sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine, relax. Just be gentle, okay? He’s small, and I like him. And… if you drop him, Daxton’s going—”
“Oh, gods, I’m not going to drop him.” Neera was already sliding her arms under the tiny bundle, lifting my son with the kind of gentle touch I’d seen her give to her gardens in Solace. The instant our son settled against Neera, her entire body softened.
“Oh, Skylar…” she whispered, voice breaking as tears pooled in her eyes. “He’s perfect. He’s perfect.”
Seamus stood behind her, expression warm and bright, not just for the baby, but for Neera.
He reached out and rested a steadying hand on her shoulder as she cradled the infant, whispering something too quiet and tender for anyone else to hear.
He was dressed in similar attire to his mate, no… excuse me, his wife.
When Seamus fell in the fight against Minaeve, it was Neera who truly saved him. Before he took his final breath, Neera made the mating mark on the battlefield and claimed Seamus, sharing her magic and life force with him. It saved him, letting him hang on long enough for me to heal him.
It took time for Seamus to earn his seat in Aelius once the battle was over, but he did it with Neera at his side. Together, they now ruled over Aelius, with Rhett as their second, uniting their people once more and restoring the land and kingdom to its former glory.
Neera rocked my son gently, bouncing instinctively on her feet. “Look at him,” she whispered, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “He’s so warm. So tiny. I… Oh, gods, I love him already.”
Castor folded his arms with a dramatic huff. “He liked me first.”
“Shut up,” Neera answered, smiling, not even bothering to look up.
Our son cooed again, settling in his aunt’s arms perfectly, like he’d been waiting for her all along.
“So,” Seamus began, “does he have a name?”
Daxton stepped forward and took our son from Neera, bringing him back into my arms as a peaceful moment settled in the room.
“You tell them, Spitfire. I think you’ve earned this honor.”
I smiled at my mate, my husband, sending a wave of love through our bond that glowed brighter than the sun.
“His name…” I paused, staring down at the greatest joy in my life. “His name is Elvin.”
In that moment, something settled in the room—a quiet promise that this little boy would never lack protection. That he would be loved and cared for by all our family.
And that is the greatest hope anyone could ever ask for.
The End of the Valdor Series