Chapter 40
Chapter forty
Dyfri
Riding in a car for long distances is going to take getting used to, but I think I’m going to like it. It’s giving me time to think, to prepare and to brace myself. It gives me time to just sit next to my husband and hold his hand.
All in all, it’s not such a bad thing that ever since the magical upheaval settled, portals haven’t worked on Earth.
The countryside rolls past the windows in waves of winter green and gold.
Hedgerows and stone walls marking boundaries that have existed for centuries.
There’s something soothing about the steady rhythm of the engine, the way the landscape unfolds slowly rather than appearing in sudden bursts like portal travel. It feels more real. More grounded.
I continue to gaze out of the window at all the green whizzing past. Rolling hills dotted with sheep, ancient oak trees standing sentinel in fields that stretch to the horizon.
It’s going to be awhile before we arrive, and anxiety is swirling in my guts like storm clouds gathering.
Was the invitation sincere? Are they going to be happy to see me?
They are tolerating Selwyn’s presence, but will they accept another fey?
My people drove them into hiding, and while they have created something wonderful, they were forced into it. Surely they are going to bear grudges?
“Are you sure about this?” I ask for probably the thousandth time since we left London.
Jack smiles and lifts our joined hands to his lips to brush a kiss across my knuckles. The gesture is so tender, so instinctive, that it makes my chest tight with emotion. “I’m sure. We can stay for a few months, and if we don’t like it, we can leave.”
The simple certainty in his voice should be comforting, but doubt continues to gnaw at me. I sigh, turning away from the window to study his profile. “But the humans all love you. They want you to be the next prime minister. Leaving now is terrible for your climb to power.”
“They love you too,” Jack says, squeezing my hand.
I roll my eyes at the absurdity of that statement.
The polls might show approval ratings, but I know what people really think when they look at me.
I’m the useful traitor, the exotic prize that their golden boy claimed.
“I still don’t understand why your father’s press people included me in their story. ”
Jack grins, that boyish smile that never fails to make my heart skip. “Because it makes me sound awesome. I’m so amazing, I got a fey prince to fall in love with me and betray his people, and that’s how I drove all the fey out.”
I snort and shake my head, but I can’t quite suppress my own smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
Jack’s smile grows even wider, clearly pleased with himself. “And yet you married me anyway.”
“Twice,” I remind him, thinking of our quiet second ceremony in a stone circle last week. No political arrangements this time, just the two of us choosing each other in front of Silas and the dragon riders.
“You should capitalise on the people’s devotion before it wears off,” I say, returning to my earlier point. “Public opinion is fickle. Strike while the iron is hot.”
Jack shakes his head, his expression growing more serious. “I never planned to be prime minister. I don’t think I want it. Even with you by my side. But anyway, a couple of months of peace will help me decide.”
I sigh, studying the determined set of his jaw. It is very sensible. As well as very deserved. A couple of months of peace after everything Jack has been through is the very least he should be rewarded with. Still, the political strategist in me winces at the missed opportunity.
“Besides,” Jack continues, glancing over at me with warm eyes, “I want to see you somewhere peaceful, so you can be the real you, not the careful political version.”
The thought sends another flutter of nerves through my stomach.
Selwyn has never seen me happy before. Has never seen me in love.
I’m not sure I know how to be those things around him.
Nevermind all the people he lives with. An eclectic mix of paranormal beings that I’ve only met once before, on that golden afternoon.
“What if the community hates me?” I whisper, voicing my deepest fear.
Jack’s hand tightens around mine. “Then they’re fools, and we’ll come home and build our own family.”
The simple conviction in his voice nearly undoes me.
The car turns down a narrow lane lined with ancient stone walls. In the distance, I can see the house rising from the landscape. All golden stone and climbing ivy, set in gardens that seem to merge seamlessly with the surrounding countryside.
My heart begins to pound as we draw closer. Through the windows, I can see figures moving about, preparing for our arrival. This is it. This is the moment that will determine whether I’ve gained a new family or simply lost the one I was born into.
The car pulls to a stop in front of the house, gravel crunching under the tires. Jack squeezes my hand one more time before we get out, and I draw strength from his steady presence beside me.
Selwyn and Laurie emerge from the front door first, their faces bright with genuine welcome.
Selwyn looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, his usual worried expression replaced by something approaching contentment.
Laurie moves with an easy grace that speaks of someone completely at peace with themselves and their world.
“Dyfri!” Selwyn calls out, his voice warm with affection. “You made it!”
He greets me without hesitation, and I’m struck by how natural it feels. No political calculation, no careful distance. Just a brother greeting a brother.
Laurie shakes Jack’s hand with obvious fondness, then turns to me with a smile that reaches his eyes. “Welcome to our home. Both of you.”
As we walk toward the house, I spot other familiar faces. Ninian is working in the garden with Jamie’s mother, both of them looking up from their digging to wave. The sight of them here, safe and settled, makes something tight in my chest loosen slightly.
We step through the front door into a hallway and then into a large reception room filled with warmth and light, and then everything changes.
Jamie throws himself into my arms with such enthusiasm that I nearly stumble backwards. For a moment, I’m too shocked to respond, but then the reality hits me. He’s here. He chose to stay.
“Dyfri!” he exclaims, hugging me tight. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
I’m shocked and ecstatic, my arms coming around him automatically. Before I can fully process this revelation, Rhydian glides into the room with that familiar elegant grace.
My heart thumps. Low and heavy.
I had no idea he had stayed. When the portals closed, I assumed everyone had fled back to the realm. The thought that any of my brothers might choose exile over separation from their human lovers, or taking their humans into our dangerous world, hadn’t even occurred to me.
But not only is Rhydian here, something is different about him. Gone is the weight of responsibility that always sat on his shoulders like a physical burden. Gone is the careful calculation behind every expression. He looks... content. Happy, even.
“I always knew you would defeat us all,” he says with a wry smile that transforms his entire face.
The words hit me like a physical blow. Not accusation or anger, but something approaching admiration. Rhydian, who I’ve spent my entire life trying to measure up to, is looking at me with pride.
The tears start before I can stop them, silent tracks down my cheeks that speak of relief and joy and a hundred emotions I don’t have names for. My oldest brother, my former crown prince, is here, and he’s offering forgiveness and acceptance and something that looks remarkably like love.
“Don’t cry,” Rhydian says softly. “You saved us all, little brother. Saved us from ourselves.”
Before I can respond, Mabon’s voice rings out from across the room, and my heartbeat grows truly frantic.
Mabon is here too? Mabon also chose to stay? Mabon, who for years was my closest friend?
“I’m giving you one of those human hug things!” he declares, striding toward us with determination written across his face.
Jamie barely has time to duck out of the way before Mabon wraps me in an enthusiastic embrace that’s so thoroughly un-fey in its enthusiasm that I start laughing through my tears.
Mabon, who used to be terrified of showing any affection at court, is hugging me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Blake taught me,” he says proudly when he pulls back. “And I’m extremely good at it.”
The laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep in my chest, bright and incredulous and full of joy. This is my family. Not the cold, calculating politicians I remember from court, but these warm, changed men who’ve discovered what it means to love and be loved in return.
Then Tristan and Ollie walk in, and my heart nearly stops altogether.
Tristan grins at me with that familiar mischievous expression, but there’s something deeper there now. Something settled and peaceful that speaks of a man who’s found exactly where he belongs.
Ollie scowls at me from behind Tristan’s shoulder, his emerald eyes still holding all their familiar hostility. Some things apparently haven’t changed. But even his glare seems less sharp than before, tempered by the security of knowing he’s loved and protected.
I think my heart is going to explode with happiness. My brothers decided to stay. They chose love over power. Love over the Fey Realm. I haven’t lost them. I can live here with them and Jack in this wonderful house, in this wonderful community. It’s all too perfect, too good to be true.
And then, as if the universe has decided I haven’t been surprised enough today, more people walk into the room.
Llywelyn steps through the doorway, and time stops.
My middle brother. The one I thought I’d never see again. The one who was exiled for losing the deadly dance of court politics, who I managed to save from death but couldn’t protect from banishment. He’s here, alive and whole and smiling.
His hair has grown long again. Golden and woven into a true love’s braid. A marker not only of his happiness, but of how time runs differently in the realm.
Beside him walks Ethan, his human lover. They’re holding hands with the casual intimacy of people who’ve long stopped hiding their affection from the world.
Tristan got to them in time. He managed to warn them before the portals closed permanently. They’re no longer in exile, no longer cut off from family. Everyone I love is here, gathered in this impossible sanctuary that somehow contains all the people who matter most.
But then a small figure pushes past Llywelyn’s robes, and my world tilts off its axis entirely.
A child. Waist-high, with hair as golden as my brother’s and as curly as the human who loves him. The child stares up at me with solemn eyes that hold depths of intelligence far beyond their apparent years.
I go to my knees without thinking, bringing myself down to the child’s eye level. My heart is hammering so hard I can barely speak.
“Greetings,” I manage, my voice coming out far weaker than intended.
The child stares at me gravely, taking in my appearance with the serious consideration that small children give to important matters.
“My name is Dyfri,” the child says.
My heart goes absolutely crazy, beating so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t simply stop. This child, this perfect, impossible child, bears my name. Llywelyn named his son after me. After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve cost him, he chose to honour me in the most permanent way possible.
“Oh really?” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. “That’s my name too.”
The child nods with grave dignity. “I’m Dyfri Y Llywelynogi,” he says with a proud tilt of his chin that’s pure royal bearing despite his tender age.
“That’s a beautiful name,” I smile, and I mean it with every fibre of my being. It’s a perfect name for a perfect child who represents everything good about second chances and new beginnings.
My gaze finds Jack’s from across the room.
He’s watching this entire scene with tears in his eyes and love written plainly across his features.
This man who married me as a stranger, who saw past every wall I built, who stood by me through revelation after revelation.
This man who is so very good, kind, and brave.
Gentle and caring. Who was fundamental in saving his world and doesn’t even want to reap the rewards of his deeds.
My smile deepens as I realise what I want to say, what this moment calls for.
I belong to Jack. And he belongs to me. This incredible, impossible, wonderful man has become my home and my heart and my chosen destiny. And somehow, impossibly, we get to keep everyone else too. For the first time in my life, I really do have everything I never dared to hope for.
And I get to keep it all.
I open my mouth and speak the truest words that have ever been spoken.
“I’m Dyfri Wyf Jackogi.”