Epilogue #2
“Yes. I… I… Where did she learn that?” I asked, my eyes flicking between hers.
Malaya licked her lips nervously and seemed to wage an internal war as she chose her words carefully. Why would she hesitate before answering such a straightforward question?
A loud knock on the door spared her from doing so. The newcomer didn’t wait for an invite, and the door immediately opened on a very worried Kayog. His eyes zeroed in on me.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, hastening to my side. “I felt your distress.”
“Yes, I’m fine,” I said while failing miserably at sounding reassuring.
“What happened?” he insisted, his gaze flicking between Malaya and me.
“Actually, it’s a good thing that you’re here so that I don’t have to repeat the story twice,” Malaya replied with a nervous chuckle.
Kayog and I exchanged a baffled look as she headed towards the door left opened by my mate’s sudden entrance and carefully closed it before looking back at us with that same strange expression.
“I’m afraid my daughter’s babbling triggered a strong response in Linsea,” Malaya said, avoiding eye contact as she went back to the baby.
“What kind of babbling are we talking about?” Kayog asked, confused.
“A word from a song I often hum to her,” she said, her eyes flicking towards me.
My blood turned to ice again, further confusing my husband while an impossible thought took root in my mind.
“You see, a few days into the fifth month of my pregnancy, I started having the strangest dream,” Malaya said while putting a bottle inside the warmer, despite having previously stated she would breastfeed Odessa.
“Strange how?” Kayog asked, tension filling his voice.
“Strange in that I was a baby bird. I believe I was a bird of paradise, although the colors didn’t match,” she added with a nervous laugh. “My feathers were light brown, almost the same shade of my skin right now.”
The shock that rippled through my mate struck me hard. In that instant, I would have given anything to be able to read his mind.
“And what were you doing?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Malaya looked away, her eyes slightly going out of focus as she prodded her memory. “It’s hard to say. I believe I was sick since I was always lying down.”
“You believe you were sick? You’re not certain?” he insisted.
“I don’t recall any pain, which is why I can’t say for certain that I was sick,” she said with a shrug.
“But every dream involved my parents singing to me. The first few times, I dismissed it as just being a weird fantasy. And then the dream kept coming back more detailed, more intense, more vivid. I can almost recall the feel of my parents’ feathers when they held me. ”
“And then what happened?” I asked, my hand slipping into Kayog’s for comfort.
“And then the dream changed. I realized that I wasn’t a bird of paradise, but a Temern. And in that dream, the two of you were my parents.”
A choked sound escaped me, and tears welled in my eyes as I held on to Kayog’s hand with bruising force.
Malaya blinked rapidly, visibly trying to fight back tears pricking her own eyes.
She was battling powerful emotions as well, but I was too overwhelmed to properly interpret them.
From Kayog, shock had given way to a mix of peace, joy, and wonder.
“You would make me pretend to fly around because I couldn’t flap my own wings.
You would play with me and sing to me. That song has been haunting me.
It pops up in my head at random hours of the day, and every time, I remember responding once we got to the chorus.
I didn’t understand the lyrics. But I knew that every time I spoke the one word from the lyrics, it would make you happy.
And your happiness filled me with the greatest joy. ”
“And what was that word?” Kayog asked, his voice trembling a little.
“It sounded like coo lee coo.”
This time I started bawling. Malaya’s lips quivered, and tears began trickling freely down her cheeks. She hugged herself while Kayog crouched next to my chair to wrap his arms and wings around me.
“What does it mean?” Malaya asked, in a shaky voice.
“It means ‘I will always love you,” I replied.
“It wasn’t a dream, was it?” Malaya asked, although it sounded more like a statement.
“What do you think?” Kayog challenged in a soft voice.
“I think that I would give anything to hear my parents sing it again the way they sang it for me when I was a sick baby,” she replied.
Without hesitation, Kayog sang, his voice deep, rich, powerful as it rose through the room.
Malaya leaned against the changing table, crying loudly.
Odessa glanced in turn between her mother and my mate with undisguised curiosity.
As an Obosian, she could see auras and read emotions from them.
Although confused by what was happening, she didn’t perceive actual distress from her mother. Those weren’t tears of sorrow.
Kayog leaned down, rubbed his temple against mine in an affectionate gesture, before freeing his hand from mine.
He walked towards Malaya. Seeing him approach, she pushed away from the table and ran to him.
She threw herself into his arms, and he hugged her tightly.
Resting his head on top of hers, he continued singing, his wings closing around her.
It took me a bit more time to regain my bearings enough to get back on my feet.
I walked to them, joining in the song, my voice harmonizing with his like when we would sing to little Thea. As soon as I closed the distance with them, Kayog opened his right wing to draw me in. Malaya immediately let go of Kayog with her left arm to wrap it around me.
And there went the waterworks again.
My poor mate ended up having to carry the song on his own while the two of us got his whole chest fully drenched. Except, as he began the second chorus, a high-pitched little voice joined in, although totally out of sync with him.
“Oo lee oo!” Odessa chirped after Kayog. “Oo oo… Oo lee oo!”
Between two sniffles, we all burst out laughing.
With much reluctance, my mate released us both, only for me to draw Malaya into my embrace.
For the first time, I got to fully hug her like my heart had ached to do since finding out she was my angel.
She reciprocated, burying her face in my neck as I wing-hugged her.
KAYOG
My heart filling to bursting, I stared at the two most important females in my life intertwined in the maternal embrace I never thought would come. Malaya was glowing, her song soaring in perfect harmony with ours. No more secrets, no more pretending we were just good friends.
“Thank you for saving me,” Malaya said as Linsea released her at last.
“We failed you once. We were not going to fail you twice,” I said.
To my shock, she frowned, stepped away from Linsea, and came to stand in front of me. She reached for both my hands and held them in hers.
“You never failed me. I was sick with a congenital illness that couldn’t be cured.
You gave me the best life possible for the time I had back then.
Your love and the happiness you gave me were so great that I had to come back to give this another go.
Both times, the two of you gave me my best life.
So thank you for finding me again, for fighting for me, and for loving me more than anyone deserves to be. ”
“We can never love you too much,” I said, caressing her cheek.
She suddenly scrunched her face and gave me the oddest look. “By the way, thank you for putting your life on the line to retrieve the data that helped take down Wuras.”
As one, Linsea and I recoiled.
“How do you know that?” Linsea asked.
She gave her a sheepish look. “I mentioned those weird recurring dreams to Tedrick. His reaction to it had been strange, but I didn’t think much of it.
Then last week, when he sent me more files for my reports to the Conclave, he accidentally included a couple of highly classified files concerning, among other things, an off-the-record, high-risk mission. ”
Linsea snorted.
“That little shit…” I whispered, my voice filled with affection and gratitude. “Who else knows?”
“Kronos, but no one else, aside from anyone you might have shared it with,” Malaya replied.
“We will leave it up to you whether to share it with more people or not,” Linsea said affectionately. “We do not wish to cause any distress to your biological parents or make things awkward for anyone. All that matters to us is that we can finally tell you that we love you.”
A knock on the door interrupted us.
“Come in!” Malaya shouted.
I almost rushed to release her, but realized that since her bonding with Kronos, she could also see souls to a lesser extent. She would know that it was her husband at the door.
Kronos stepped inside, his silver-blue eyes scanning the room. He glanced tenderly at his wife before frowning at us with false severity.
“Your little family reunion is nice and all, but you need to tone the happiness down before my Nundars all suffer massive indigestion,” Kronos grumbled playfully.
We all laughed. Nundars were highly intelligent beings who attached themselves to an Obosian household.
They performed chores around the house and cooked and could even provide healing or protection when needed.
It was in fact they who saved Malaya’s life when she was attacked by a wild beast, keeping her safe until Kronos could intervene.
They fed off the energy from positive emotions.
And there was no question that the ones emanating from this room had to taste divine.
“You’re one to speak about having indigestion,” Malaya said mockingly at her husband.
“Malaya!” Kronos and Linsea exclaimed at the same time.
I cackled, looking at all three of their embarrassed faces. Obosians fed off emotions too, but usually during sex. That was one of the reasons humans compared them to Incubi—minus the leeching your lifeforce part.
Malaya scrunched her face and muttered something unintelligible.
“How about you go hang out with our guests? I will feed Odessa,” Kronos offered.
“That’s sweet of you,” Malaya said, lifting her face to receive her husband’s kiss.
He turned to the baby, who giggled excitedly at seeing her father. In that instant, I felt the same love between them than the one that had burned so brightly between my Thea and me. As if sensing the weight of my stare on him, Kronos peered at me, and a strange expression flitted over his face.
“Thank you for knocking sense into me when I was being an idiot,” Kronos said.
“Thank you for sparing me from having to escalate things so you would see the light,” I deadpanned.
He snorted and bowed his head in concession.
“Above all, thank you for making my baby happy,” I said, this time my voice filled with sincere gratitude.
“Always,” he replied, his voice solemn.
We walked out of the room to mingle again with the love of my life and my beloved child by my side. As my gaze roamed over the people in attendance—loyal friends who had become more like family to me, I realized I had achieved my impossible dream.
I glanced down at my beautiful mate to find her staring at me with infinite love.
“Thank you, for giving me the world,” I whispered.
“Thank you for giving me the same,” she said, caressing my cheek. “Coo lee coo, Kayog.”
“Coo lee coo, my dove. In this life and every other, coo lee coo.”
THE END.