Epilogue
Seventeen Years Later
The four children were unaware that the king and queen were watching them from the window above.
Eachann and Callum raised their wooden swords and tried to glower at one another. As Sabhinion watched her thirteen-year-old brothers, she mused that her younger brother Callum's snarl was much more convincing than Eachann's.
Though they were twins, and Eachann was older by only a handful of minutes, they were complete opposites.
"Eachann!" She shouted. "Don't let him get behind your defenses." She knew her warning was futile, because Eachann would rather be playing his harp than practicing sword fighting. He'd probably let Callum trounce him so he could be done with it.
"He's holding his sword too close to the bottom of the hilt," a voice behind her said.
Sabhinion was curious about the boy her parents had rescued from the latest raid, and turned toward him. "You've had training, Carrig?"
He scowled. "Aye."
The boy still looked half-starved, but there was something predatory and wolfish about him. Like he'd ferociously thrust anyone away who got too close. "My mother and father don't believe in sending children into battle. You'll be safe here."
"There's nowhere in the world that is safe from my father," he protested.
Sabhinion had heard the rumors. That his mother had been one of the stolen women, one of the few females born to their kind. Like her. That she'd been pregnant when she returned to her husband and he'd killed her for betraying him. He'd cast out his son as well.
She laid a gentle hand on his arm and felt his muscles tense beneath her touch. "If you don't want to practice with them, you can come to the library with me."
Something indiscernible flickered in his eyes and Sabh's twelve-year-old heart broke for him again.
"The library? Why do you spend your time there?"
She tightened her grip. "I'm studying with one of our chief druids, Einoringen. He's teaching me to read all of the old scrolls."
Carrig shrugged. "I might like that."
"Then, come," she said as she slid her hand down his wrist and tangled her fingers with his, tugging him behind her.
Brun laid her head on her mate's shoulder when Callum disarmed Eachann and sent his wooden cudgel flying through the air. "His heart's not in it," she pensively said.
Tor sighed as he slid his arm around her waist. "Nay. It never has been. He's too full of sunshine for this world. There's a darkness in Callum his older brother doesn't have."
"Eachann's good humor will serve him well for most of the duties he'll one day inherit from you, but he'll need Callum as his warlord."
"And what of Sabhinion?" He asked.
"Whatever we do, we cannot barter her happiness for a political alliance. She needs the freedom to make her own choices, as I always longed to do."
Tor pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. "I am thankful every day, mate, that you chose me and our future together. Even though it wasn't your choice in the beginning."
"I've never regretted it," she said as she pressed a tender kiss to his jaw. "And I never will."