Epilogue Pt. 3 #3
“Sometimes I wonder if being smart would make things worse,” Gall blurted.
I blinked. “Make what worse?”
“The… you know. His eyes are yellow, Papa,” he whispered.
Gall hardly ever called me Papa when there were others present anymore—he insisted he had to set an example for any Neph, for the Shadekin who might not embrace me as their King, and for all our children.
He also feared confusing Mael, though Mael couldn’t have cared less if Gall was his brother, or his uncle.
Mael merely understood that he was family, and that was enough.
He was far more interested in wrestling with Gall, who never seemed to lose energy for play like the other adults.
“That boy has a heart as gold as his eyes—just like you,” I said, nudging Gall’s arm. “You have nothing to fear, son. When he’s old enough to understand, he’ll resist, and his eyes will change, just like yours did.”
“But I was—”
“You were a good, young man, deceived and influenced by an immortal, Gall. We all were. None of us truly understood. And once you did, you changed your position. Which is the right thing to do. The mark of a man isn’t whether he can be deceived or mistaken,” I insisted, as Gall’s gaze drifted back to the children with concern and longing.
“The measure of a true man is in how he responds when he learns he was wrong. You did exactly the right thing. Don’t worry.
We’re all here, and we all love Naran. He’ll learn the truth about the Fallen, as will Mael and Adiya. ”
“But their eyes—”
“Gall, at some point every man that draws breath has to make the decision about which power he follows in the divine war. No matter what color his eyes are.” I met Gall’s worried gaze and held it.
“Your son, just like mine, will choose right. Eventually,” I added, as Mael popped up behind Adiya and pulled the pretty ribbon from her braid, then ducked back into the bushes when she turned, caught sight of her unravelling braid, and shrieked.
It took a few short minutes to settle the children—Yilan had to be called over to rebraid Adiya’s hair, but eventually, the children were back to playing relatively peacefully, while Yilan, myself, and Gall stood watching in the shadows of the trees.
None of us spoke for some time, but it was Gall who broke the silence, his eyes never leaving the children. “Sometimes I’m afraid for him,” he said quietly.
I took a deep breath. “Tell me why?”
“Even if he’s smarter than me, he’s got… the bloodlines.”
“Gall, that boy is very much your son, not Lucifer’s.”
Gall nodded, his throat bobbing. “I know. But Lucifer is my Pappy,” he said uncomfortably, calling him the name Naran used for me—which turned my stomach, though I knew what he meant.
Still, I shook my head. “No, he’s not, because not one ounce of love lives in that heart—immortal or not. Family is a bond of love, not just blood.”
“Lucifer fooled me once… Naran is smarter than me, but it seems like Lucifer is even smarter than him,” Gall said with an unassuming shrug. “And he knows about Naran,” he added, his tone haunted.
“This family will always be here for you—and you can remain right here, Gall. Both of you. All of you, if Naran chooses to stay when he’s older.
You can all stay here in Theynor, behind the Shadows of Shade, and away from any other mortals that might try to lead him astray.
As long as Naran resists, it doesn’t matter where he lives, Lucifer can’t touch him. ”
Gall nodded, but I saw the fear in his eyes.
I pressed on. “You’re teaching him right, Gall,” I whispered. “When the time comes, don’t hide from what’s happened. Tell him clearly. Share the parts of you that got it wrong. Let him know that if he’s ever deceived, or mistaken, you’ll still love him, too. That’s all he needs.”
Gall turned to look me in the eye. His welled with unshed tears, but his expression was brighter and he nodded. “That’s right,” he said hoarsely.
God, I wanted to weep. But then Istral arrived looking for the rest of us, and I watched my oldest’s eyes light up at the sight of his mate.
Yilan leaned closer to my other side, as the two embraced each other and Istral stood, her head resting on Gall’s chest, holding his waist, her eyes closed and sighed, as if just touching him were all she needed.
These two whom we loved so deeply, and who had been through so much, were so beautiful to watch. I felt Yilan’s emotion through the bond as she noticed them too.
“You know… we’re happy to stay with the kids if you two would like to take a walk. Gall, you could tell Istral the news Hever brought?”
Gall blinked, then nodded and looked down at Istral. Neither of them spoke, but she nodded and took his hand, following him happily through the trees towards the open garden, and the path on its other side.
I smiled, watching them go together. Gall dwarfed her, but I could also see how much strength he took from her presence. Already he was taller, and more sure in his steps because she was there.
“They’re going to be fine,” Yilan whispered, as if she’d heard my thoughts. Perhaps she had. I didn’t guard my mind from her anymore. At all.
“He’s worried about Naran being deceived the way he was. Manipulated,” I said quietly.
Yilan’s expression grew sad. “He won’t. That boy is so sweet—”
“So was Gall,” I reminded her.
“Yes, but Gall was forced to be constantly surrounded by men who urged him to be something he wasn’t. And we won’t do that,” she insisted.
I nodded. “I told him that, as well.”
“Good. Then, what are you worried about?” she asked me.
I looked back over my shoulder where the two had disappeared, but they were gone from view. “Gall is growing up,” I said. “ He’s also lost some of his innocence.”
“He’s still lovely and soft—”
“He’s gained an edge that wasn’t there.”
“True, but I think it would be impossible to go through what he’s been through without that. He’s still sweet, he’s just… more aware of the world now.”
“All of it,” I agreed grimly.
“That’s probably for the best,” she pressed. “He’ll be able to prepare Naran better, now that he knows what dangers really lie in wait.”
I sighed and pulled my mate in for a hug of my own. “I hope you’re right.”
“I usually am,” she quipped against my chest. I snorted. Then her tone softened. “In my experience, God will always protect the hearts that are soft—and that family has the softest hearts I know.”
“You’re right,” I said quietly, stroking her back. Yilan leaned back, craning her neck to look up at me, smiling. I touched her face tenderly. “It’s the hardasses that you have to watch.” Then I nudged up her chin.
Yilan spluttered. “What?! What are you—I am not a hardass!”
Three little gasps rose from the trees behind her, and Yilan froze. I tsked as Mael called, “Mama? You said a swear!”
As Yilan blinked and spluttered, I gave her a mock-stern look. “Look at you, such a terrible example for our soft-hearted children.”
She muttered something unkind at me, then pulled out of my arms to go to the children, and try to cover for her gaff. But Mael kept insisting that he’d heard her, and she’d told him that was a bad word.
By the time she’d apologized, and was making her way back to me, I was outright laughing because her cheeks were pink.
She came to stand next to me with her arms folded, which pressed her breasts up nicely and distracted me from the chuckling.
“I am not a hardass,” she muttered when the children were finally distracted.
“Yes, you are, my love, but you’re my hardass,” I growled, leaning down to bury my face in her neck, and nip at her skin there so she goosebumped and twitched.
However, when I’d grabbed her ass and she’d slapped me off, I realized she still wasn’t relaxed and smiling.
“What is it?” I asked her.
Yilan didn’t take her eyes from the kids, but her forehead lined. “I’ve softened a great deal since… everything,” she said. “For goodness sake, I let Hever watch my son—and Jann! I learned from all of that, Melek. I thought… I thought you saw that.”
Realizing that I’d inadvertently hit a tender spot, I called for Harris and asked her if she’d mind watching the children until Gall and Istral returned.
She agreed—while Yilan frowned at me. Then I turned without another word, and swept her up.
By now she was accustomed to me suddenly flying her off, but when she realized I was taking her to the balcony of our suite—all those terrible grates and metal guards long since removed, so that we could easily fly to our chamber without walking through the palace—she eyed me.
‘Really, Melek? You think you’re going to make love to me and I’ll forget that you called me a hardass?’
I huffed, then landed carefully on the balcony, before letting her down, holding her until she found her feet—and not letting her go when she tried to turn to walk inside.
Her head tilted. “What is it?”
“Come. Look.” I took her hand, and drew her back to the edge of the balcony, to look down over the sprawling land before us—the palace gardens, and forest directly below.
The distant city lights to the south. To the east, the mountain ranges that were hugged by the Shadows of Shade.
Beyond them, the rest of the continent, all of it now under our rule, by one means or another.
If we’d been able to see far enough east, we’d see all the way to Ebonreach, where our Governors awaited our return in a few months.
“Everywhere we’ve been, Yilan—and everywhere we might go. Everyone we love is down there somewhere.”
She sighed and softened against me, leaning into my side. I put an arm around her, and held her close.
“We truly are blessed,” she breathed.
I nodded. “By the hand of God Himself.”
It was a beautiful, sober moment, and one I drank in, knowing I’d remember it—until it was ruined by my smartass mate, poking me in ribs, right where she knew I was most ticklish. I flinched, and glared down at her, only to find her finally smiling.
“We even know for sure you have a soul. That was a relief!”