Epilogue
brIGID
ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER
“Have you got your bags? Bartlett, have you got the alpha's bags?
There? Have you counted them all? You're sure?
" There was a toss of black curls with a huff of breath, and our daughter's eyes rolled as she glanced at us before giving us a thorough once over and wincing.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather come and stay with me for a bit?
Just till you get your feet under you again with the change. "
I pursed my lips as Torion gave me a meaningful glance, his salt and pepper beard twitching uncontrollably. "We're perfectly able to keep our own house, love. We managed the keep for a century, after all."
"Aye, but it's meant to be your retirement now, and—"
"Tylane, you're driving them mad," a rough voice called from under a pile of screaming children.
Tylane, tall and proud and as fearsome a dragon as the Hills had ever seen, wheeled around and marched her way over to her brother, her large sage and blue wings flapping with irritation. "I am not, and you could do a great deal more to help today than you are, Lockie."
I sighed and leaned into my mate's side, felt him do the same to me in answer. "You always liked bossy women."
"Aye," Torion allowed, and then was quiet for a moment before adding, "Tylane's proof there can be too much of a good thing."
I snorted and turned, burrowing into Torion's broad chest. He'd grown thicker and softer in recent years, the perfect antidote to this morning's chilly spring air.
"She's gotten worse since her third," I said, muffling the words against him.
"Mm. What's the little one's name again?" He grunted as I pinched his side and laughed. "That's right, that's right, Tormund."
Torion was something like a god to our grandchildren, as plentiful as they were, and each one held his ever growing heart in their fist as he let them ride his dragon by the dozen, chasing rabbits and dogs and butterflies in the summer.
And I—gallingly known as "Granny" to half the hills' children—had a bag full of sweets and bandages and seed crackers now constantly strapped to my hip.
A soft voice interrupted from behind, nearing our little huddle. "You are moving awfully far away from us all."
I pulled free from Torion to welcome our youngest, Bess, into the fold, her rounded belly pressing into mine. "Not away from you, my darling. But we've got to give the new alpha room to rise," I said.
"Think of it as just far enough away to feel like you're on a vacation when you come to visit," Torion said, brushing a hand down Bess's amber braid and kissing the crown of her head. "Anyway, we needed to make sure he found a place with room for the lot of you. You all keep multiplying!"
Bess snorted, and the sound was so familiar.
Of all our children, she looked the most like me.
She reminded me of my mother somehow, little as I knew her—quiet, but direct in manner, sure of herself and her place in the world.
She could be sure. Torion and I had fought every year of our long reign to give her and Tylane and all the other young women of Grave Hills that surety.
"Well, we had the pair of you as an example," Bess said as she untucked herself from between us, her own more recently acquired wings stretched behind her. She'd been born without them, but they'd appeared not long after she'd met her mate, Alec, beautiful and gleaming like brass.
"Your mother demanded at least three children from me when she claimed me," Torion said with a shrug. "She promised a son and demanded daughters. What could I do but obey?"
Bess wrinkled her nose, but Lockie loosed himself from the pile of nieces and nephews, and they ran off like a pack of puppies toward the approaching horses and carriages loaded with our belongings.
"Did you not want sons, Ma?" Lockie asked, feigning a scowl.
"If she hadn't, she'd've kept Pa off her after having me, wouldn't she?" Sebastian asked, ruffling the heads of the children.
"Not to mention me," Ben added, following after his twin and cuffing him on the back of his head.
I ignored the flush on my cheeks as I glanced up at Torion, whose beard did not manage to hide the smugness in his smile. I had suggested we not try for any more children after the twins. Then I…changed my mind.
And had not been able to keep my hands off my mate the year of the drought, when the contraceptive herb was in short supply.
"I wanted each and every one of you, as I've made perfectly clear your entire lives," I said, not quite soothingly.
Having five children had been a dream. It still was, but they were adults now and harder to distract away from a topic.
"But now…your father has promised me a castle of our own, far out of reach of politics, for the remainder of our very happy lives.
You all may come and visit us at your leisure… in a year or so."
"A year?!" the twins and Tylane scoffed.
"Aside from Bess and the new baby," I added.
"Ma!" Lockie cried out.
"Quick, now you've done it," Torion said, wrapping an arm around my waist and herding me forward through the crowd of our family, his grin bright.
"You won't last a year without us!" Sebastian shouted to our backs as we fled toward the carriages.
"Seb!" Tylane hissed before calling out, "Write me if you need anything at all! Or come and stay with—"
Someone cut her off, and as in a hurry as Torion and I were for the next chapter of our lives, we stopped at the carriages, lifting each of our grandchildren up in tight hugs full of kisses.
By the time we made it into the dark quiet inside and the carriages were moving, I was exhausted, collapsed against Torion's chest.
Which was shaking with laughter. "A year?" he repeated finally.
I nudged him with an elbow, and he sat up, lifting me with him. "I know. It'll be a month at best. I just didn't want Tylane or Lockie following us there."
"Hmmm, you think a month… I'll have to do my best to keep you occupied, love. Let's make it two," Torion purred, lowering his mouth to mine.
Two months would be all right. Bess wouldn't be too close to delivering in two months. "Two months," I agreed, arching up for more kisses. "But not much longer than that. I do love them so."
"Of course. They're hellions, but they're our hellions, after all," Torion murmured.
"I didn't know then, Torion," I said, thinking of the conversation before we'd finally managed to escape the keep. We weren't Alpha and Omega of the Hills any more. Just Torion and Brigid. Just mates.
"Didn't know?" Torion asked.
"How much I really wanted what I asked of you. How much I would love our family. How much I would love you," I said, my eyes growing watery as I reached up to cup his familiar face, the soft beard soothing against my palm.
"No one could anticipate this kind of love, witch," Torion rasped, kissing my forehead. "It's never existed before."