Epilogue
Three weeks later
Andrik
When I wake, the forest is already humming. The sun hasn’t even peeked through the clouds yet. Lumi is curled against my chest, breathing deep and even.
She’s been tired lately. Moving a little slower, though she’d kill me if I told her that. She’s been sleeping long past the sunrise and turning her nose up at the chamomile tea she used to love, though her appetite returns with a vengeance by midday.
I noticed the second her scent changed, and every micro-shift in her heartbeat. Every time she presses her hand to her stomach with a slight, confused frown, my heart stutters.
I’ve been waiting... hoping. But I couldn’t let myself believe it was real... believing means it can be taken away.
The forest hums louder this time, insistent on getting my attention. My fingers freeze where they’re tracing over her waist.
My gaze falls to Lumi’s shoulder, where my shirt has slipped.
Frostburrow beetles.
Three of them, small and luminous, perched on her bare skin. Their bodies glow with a soft, fluttering purple light, their wings shimmering like crushed amethyst.
I don’t dare move. I’m not even sure I’m breathing anymore. I just watch them crawl slowly across her shoulder, leaving faint, bioluminescent trails in their wake.
The god’s words finally make sense:
“Keep watch, Caelen. When winter is at its softest, look for the frostburrow beetles. You’ll know then... that she carries more than just your name.”
She’s carrying my fawnling—my vareth. (My heir.)
I pull my hand free from her side and press it gently against her stomach. Beneath my palm, and the layers of silk and skin, I feel it.
The faintest hum. The smallest, fiercest spark of life.
Ours.
A sound of pure disbelief breaks from my throat, and I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep from waking her. I need a moment. Just one moment to let the reality of this miracle sink in.
I’ve spent lifetimes as a beast. Countless years wandering these woods alone, judging souls, protecting a forest that was never truly mine. I thought I would spend eternity as nothing but the god’s weapon... I never thought I’d have this.
The mating stripe on my chest pulses, growing hotter than it has since it appeared.
“Thank you,” I whisper to the forest, the frost, or whatever divine force finally decided we had paid enough. “Thank you.”
The forest hums in approval, a low vibration beneath my feet.
Lumi stirs, her hand shifting to rest over mine.
“Andrik?” Her voice is thick with sleep, her eyelids barely opening. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” I can barely speak past the tightness in my throat. “Everything is right, Sael?n.”
She blinks up at me, her eyes searching mine, concern flashing across her face when she sees the tears in my eyes.
“Andrik? You’re crying... you’re shaking. What is it?”
I can’t find my breath to answer. I just lift my hand, gesturing with a trembling finger toward her bare shoulder.
She follows my gaze, her breath catching as she sees the three tiny, luminous creatures.
“Oh,” she breathes, her fear instantly replaced by wonder. “They’re beautiful. Are they... fireflies? They kind of remind me of Bimby.”
“No,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Lumi, those are frostburrow beetles. They only wake when the forest feels a new soul beginning. They only seek out... a mother.”
She stills. The wonder on her face, sharpening into a sudden realization. Her gaze drops from the glowing beetles to my hand, which is still pressed flat against her stomach.
“A mother?” Her voice is so tiny. “Andrik... what are you saying? I thought Rhavari couldn’t procreate.”
“You’re carrying our young, Sael?n.” I choke out a laugh that’s mostly a sob. “The beetles... they’ve come to welcome the heir of the woods. We’re going to have a baby.”
She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me as the weight of my confession settles between us.
Then the tears start to pour.
“... Parents!” she cries. “Andrik, we’re going to be parents!” She looks up, her face wet and glowing, a sudden spark of her usual wit shining through. “Just... hopefully they grow their antlers after they’re out of the birth canal.”
I bark a laugh, pulling her into my lap and burying my face in her neck, letting my own tears fall into her hair
“I love you,” I groan. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she whispers, her fingers tangling in the fur at my mating mark. “In every life, Caelen.”
Eventually, the frantic pounding of our hearts begins to slow. I pull a heavy fur around her and pull her back against my chest so we can face the horizon together.
We watch together as the sun finally crests over the canopy, the beetles drifting lazily between us. One lands on my antler, while another settles in her hair.
“I’ve been so tired and nauseous the last few days,” she murmurs. “I thought maybe I was just recovering from the heat.”
“I thought the same,” I admit, my voice still thick. “But I hoped. Every night I watched you sleep, I hoped it might be this.”
She looks up at me, a small, curious smile tugging at her lips.
“A fawnling... is that what you called the baby?"
“I didn’t have a word for it. Cub, pup, kit... none of them felt right. But when I think of us—what we made—all I can see is something small, with your doe eyes and maybe... a tiny set of velvet antlers. A fawnling.”
Her expression softens into something so radiant it rivals the sunrise behind her. “Our little fawnling.”
The frostburrow beetles lift from her shoulder, wings shimmering as they drift lazily between us. One lands on my antler, while another settles on the tip of her nose.
“Frostborn and fierce,” I murmur, covering her hand with mine. “Just like their mother.”
“And stubborn like their father,” she counters.
The peace is absolute... until I feel the first footstep on the edge of the forest. I reach out with my senses, tasting the air, and a familiar scent drifts on the wind. A woman. Alone. Moving through the snow with a purpose that doesn’t belong to the living.
Aureliane. I recognize the scent of the woman who collected Micah.
“Andrik?” Lumi asks, sensing my distraction. “What is it?”
I tighten my hold on her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It’s nothing, my love. Just someone passing through the shadows.”
I watch the treeline for a moment longer. Whatever she’s looking for, her story is just beginning. Mine is finally complete.
I run my thumb over Lumi’s belly and close my eyes. For the first time in this lifetime, the judge is at rest.
“Dova’sael?n ael’tharavar ves skar. Etra’nai ves kai’lae. Veyr’sal. Virethel. Ael’Solmira ves’thein ael’tara veskae.” (There are twelve soulbonds written across lifetimes. We are the first. The frost. The birch. And in every snowdrop I found you in.)