Chapter 29 Precious to Us
Seri
Beta Emerson of the Five Fangs pack was unmistakable, well over six feet tall with a broad-shouldered build that almost made Koa look slim by comparison.
With him was his mate, Angelo della Morte.
I’d met them briefly after my wedding. Angelo had come at my husbands’ request to help heal my injuries, and Zane had said they trusted no one else.
They had been kind to me then, Angelo’s stern face softening as his magic knit my battered body back together, but it wasn’t their presence that made my breath catch in my throat.
In Emerson’s boulder arms, cradled with improbable tenderness, was a chubby little girl with thick black hair held back by a fancy white headband. She wore a frilly dress, and her little fingers clutched Emerson’s shirt front as she looked around with curiosity.
Gray eyes. She had gray eyes, exactly like the ones I saw every time I looked in the mirror.
Our Papa’s eyes.
“Josslyn?” I breathed, hardly daring to believe it.
Tremors began in my fingers and spread until my whole body felt like it might shake apart at the seams. The room tilted and narrowed, everything beyond that tiny face fading into insignificance. I took an unconscious step forward, then another.
Casimir’s warm hand stayed in the small of my back, steadying me, and Koa loomed beside me, intercepting my champagne glass before I could drop it.
“Are you all right, beloved?”
But I couldn’t answer. All I could see was my sister, so much bigger now, healthy and thriving. She gurgled happily, secure in the arms of who could only be her adoptive father.
“We felt it best if no one knew who gave up the child or who adopted her.” Queen Lilah’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “For her safety and yours. With Arabesque still at large, information was dangerous.”
“Only we and the MacGregors knew the full story,” King Julian added. “Well, and Foster, too, in case he needed to redirect Arabesque’s attention or warn Angelo and Emerson of an impending attack.”
“You knew all this time and never said anything?” Casimir whirled on Foster.
“He couldn’t even if he wanted to. He was under a royal alpha command,” King Julian was saying, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
She was safe. She was loved. And she was right here in front of me, after months of wondering and hoping and forcing myself not to ask questions that might put her at risk.
“Is that— Is she—” Zane danced around me in agitation. “I’m getting mixed signals here, bunny. Should I be dismembering someone right now, or is this a happy reunion?”
The question broke through my shock, pulling a watery chuckle from my throat.
“It’s happy. Very happy.”
Emerson moved closer, and the baby in his arms babbled and waved her free hand with a gummy smile.
“She’s healthy and happy,” Angelo said, his gray-green eyes watchful. “We’ve taken good care of her.”
“I can see that.”
Emerson studied me for a long moment before he seemed to come to a decision.
“Would you like to hold her?”
“Please,” I whispered, the word cracking. “Oh, please.”
And then she was in my arms, a warm, wiggling weight that healed the last broken piece in my heart. She blinked up at me, her tiny eyebrows drawing together, and I couldn’t hold back the sobby little laugh that bubbled out of me.
“Hi, baby,” I cooed. “Look how big you’ve gotten! Look how perfect you are!”
Her cheeks were rosy and her belly round, so different from the fragile bundle I’d carried into this palace.
Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips to her forehead, just breathing in her and the scent of baby lotion.
She grabbed my hair with a curious hand, and I didn’t even care that it pulled.
When a sob escaped me, however, Angelo dove in, his scarred, callused fingers ever so gently working her tiny fist out of my curls.
“Sorry about the hold of death,” Emerson chuckled. “She does that to my little brother Thoreau all the time.”
“Is it hurting that much, blossom?” Zane asked as three handkerchiefs appeared in front of me. “Seems to be a baby target tonight.”
“No,” I choked, accepting Koa’s since he was closest. “I just… never thought… I’d see her… again.”
“She was always safe,” Queen Lilah assured me. “We made sure of it.”
I nodded, unable to speak as I cuddled my sister.
She had no idea who I was, of course. She didn’t know that we shared blood, that I’d sacrificed everything to protect her.
On the positive side, that also meant she didn’t remember Arabesque or Eluned or Amabel.
She didn’t remember the rogues or being hungry or scared.
And yet my heart wanted to believe she felt the connection between us, sister to sister.
“She’s beautiful.” Casimir peered over my shoulder. “She has your eyes, beloved.”
“She’s a fierce little warrior.” Koa, my gentle, terrifying Koko, brushed a finger against Josslyn’s cheek. “Just like her sister.”
“Has your strong will, too,” Emerson said with unexpected warmth. “She’s very determined.”
“We Bell women don’t give up easily.” Pride swelled in my chest, ridiculous and powerful.
“Don’t we know it?” Zane moved to where Josslyn could see him and made a funny face at her, drawing a delighted gurgle.
When Josslyn reached out toward my hair again, Casimir intercepted her little hand, which looked even smaller swallowed in his broad fist, and Emerson cleared his throat.
“We’re very bonded to her.”
Behind the words, I heard a father’s fear that I might want to reclaim what was once mine. That same protective instinct was what had driven me to agree to a marriage with an unknown vampire.
“She is precious to us.” Angelo had that intense look only a battle-hardened warrior could pull off: Arms folded, weight forward, eyes narrowed. He wasn’t trying to be intimidating. He just was. “We have waited years for her, our farfallina.”
“Thank you for giving her a wonderful home and loving her. That’s all I ever wanted for her.” I smiled in spite of the bittersweet pang in my heart.
Josslyn might be my blood, but she was their daughter in all the ways that mattered. They’d been there for her first smile, her first laugh, all the midnight feedings and diaper changes and tiny discoveries that made up a baby’s life.
“I’m not going to ask to take her back,” I told them. “Just to see her every now and then. To know she’s okay.”
Relief flickered across Emerson’s face, although Angelo continued to watch me closely.
Yes, in another life, I might have raised her myself, but that life had disappeared the moment Arabesque killed Papa. I’d had to make an impossible choice, and seeing how Emerson and Angelo looked at Josslyn now, I knew I’d made the right one.
“She was very small when we got her,” Emerson said hesitantly, as if wary of asking, but desperate to know.
“Arabesque didn’t feed her often enough.” I trembled a little as the terrible memories flooded back. “I couldn’t stand to hear her cry and know she was hungry, so I made a deal. My breakfast rations for powdered formula.”
Casimir stiffened behind me, and I knew he was remembering how I’d admitted to giving my dinner rations to Brumous to keep him alive. He was probably calculating down to the gram how little I’d been eating each day.
“You saved her life.” Angelo’s stance eased a little.
“And you’ve given her a life. A good one. I can see that. She’s lucky to have you.”
“We’re the lucky ones.” Emerson’s eyes grew glossy.
“We’ll arrange visits and video calls,” Angelo said gruffly. “She should know her sorella.”
“Yes!” The word burst out of me before he finished, and I cleared my throat. “I mean, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”
Right then, Brummy, who’d been playing with Prince Augustus and Callum, wandered over.
He squeezed between Casimir and Koa, nudging my elbow with his cold nose just to check in.
His blue eyes fixed on Josslyn, and he sniffed all over her, her little shoes, then her hands, and finally her face.
Josslyn kicked her feet and giggled, a sound that made my heart ache.
A low growl built in Emerson’s throat, the instinctive response of a werewolf seeing a dire wolf, even one he’d already met, so close to his pup. I understood it. Logically, he knew Brummy was no threat, but instinct ran deeper than logic, especially for shifters.
And naturally, my husband responded in kind, three sets of fangs sliding down with nearly silent schlicks.
Casimir shifted in front of me like a glacier in motion, his body a wall between me and Emerson.
Koa loomed close at my side, and the temperature in our little circle seemed to drop several degrees as two sets of overprotective men squared off, neither willing to back down, all of them forgetting that the ones they were ‘protecting’ were perfectly safe.
Zane, being my ridiculous Zoodle, chose that moment to crack his knuckles.
“Again with the mixed signals! Are we fighting or is this a group hug thing? I could go either way, but fair warning: I’m a biter.”
Sebastian snorted champagne out of his nose. King Julian and Papa exchanged a look that said neither of them planned to intervene. Queen Lilah met Kaori’s eyes, and both of them hid their smiles behind their hands.
“Our baby! Hana!” Zane translated for Brummy, and everyone froze as they stared at the dire.
“Hana? Her name’s Josslyn—”
“He knows that.” I smiled at Emerson. “He’s trying to say ‘ohana. His family. His pack.”
Deciding Emerson looked in need of affection, Brummy stretched up and licked the man’s face from chin to temple with one giant, slobbery swipe of his tongue.
Papa, at his ‘nothing fazes me’ best, said, “Yes, he does that sometimes.”
“Brumster, no!” Zane spewed champagne all over Foster, pretending to be mortified. “There’s no tonguing in diplomacy! We talked about this! Alpha Toast’s teaching you bad habits!”
“Me? Pretty sure the wolf’s got better manners than you, dickwad,” Foster shot back, wiping champagne droplets from his suit.
“I knew we shouldn’t have adopted you.” Casimir heaved a sigh. “But somebody had to name you.”
“Alpha Toast! He hana now!” Brumous, utterly unrepentant, puffed up his chest with pride as Zane shared his thoughts with us.
Sebastian snorted into his sleeve while Koa’s shoulders shook with silent laughter, and Casimir pinched the bridge of his nose.
Angelo, meanwhile, had produced a handkerchief from somewhere in his suit and was dabbing at his mate’s face with surprising tenderness, muttering something in Italian.
Emerson, to his credit, seemed more resigned than angry as he submitted to being cleaned up.
Josslyn chose that moment to grab Casimir’s hair.
She yanked him down to her level with surprising strength and began gumming his earlobe.
We all held our breath as he blinked, then, to everyone’s shock, took her from my arms as if he were disarming a bomb, his stern face softening as she babbled at him in what sounded like serious baby negotiations.
“You appear to be an acceptable company,” he said at last.
As chuckles and music swelled around us, golden and warm as honey, Brummy herded Prince Augustus and Callum toward the dessert table, and Foster reappeared with a tray of champagne flutes, distributing them with a sardonic bow.
Even Papa Lucian looked content, his arm around Kaori, as they chatted with Queen Lilah.
King Julian, who had been watching the scene unfold with the patience of a ruler long accustomed to supernatural dramatics, raised his glass with impeccable timing.
“To unlikely alliances.” His blue eyes glinted with amusement as they looked at his queen. “And to the ones who make monsters into men.”
“Hear, hear!” Zane clinked his glass against Sebastian’s. “Although I’d argue they make us into better monsters.”
And I laughed. Not the timid, careful laugh I’d hidden behind for years under Arabesque’s roof, but something wild and free and joyful. Because somehow, this was my life now.
It was ridiculous. It was messy and loud. It was perfect.
And it was mine.