Trystan tore his gaze away from Myrddin, willing the thoughts from his mind. Smoke billowed from the chimney of his childhood home, and a new ache burned in his chest. It had felt like years since he’d been home, but beyond that, a deeper longing stung in his heart.
As they dismounted and approached, Emma gathered and still asleep in Myrddin’s arms, the door—the same old, wooden door he’d walked through every day as a boy—flung open. Noah stepped out followed by Owaine, and Trystan’s heart halted its incessant beat and his lungs failed to draw a single breath.
Myrddin clasped his hand and pulled him forward. “Come, angel.”
“Myr,” Trystan said, his voice a mere whisper.
Myrddin paused and turned, his ardent gaze landing on Trystan’s.
Trystan tried everything to remind himself this was all dark magic and deception, but his heart judged it as anything but. Noah, Owaine, Myrddin… even Emma. All were real. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he had everything right here. Everyone he loved.
“You haven’t called me that in years,” Myrddin said.
Trystan blinked and looked up at him, his eyes bleary. “Called you what?”
“Myr.” He leaned in for a lingering, chaste kiss. “I miss hearing it.”
Myrddin’s lips on his once more soothed his heart and soul. “I love you,” Trystan whispered.
“I love you too. Come. Family awaits.”
Trystan had no words as he approached his fathers. Both had aged, but there was a youthfulness in their eyes he hadn’t remembered seeing in a long time. Content and carefree were the words that came to mind.
Noah reached for him first, wrapping him in a hug. “Good to see you, son. We’ve missed you. Both of you.”
Trystan hugged him back, hard. “I’ve missed you as well, Father.” Trystan stepped back and looked at Owaine.
Owaine held his gaze. “It’s been five years, Trystan.”
“I know.” Trystan pressed his lips into a tight line. Watery tears lined his lashes, threatening to spill over. Remnants of the last time they’d spoken dawned in his memories. An argument of sorts, and then he’d packed a few things and left. The details were lost to him, but Trystan remembered now that Myrddin had come after him and finally revealed how much he loved him. Then, some months later, he’d had a dream that Owaine had died. A dream that had seemed so real at the time. “I’m sorry.”
Owaine grabbed his son and pulled him into a tight embrace. Trystan squeezed his father back, his face buried in the crook of his neck. A hoarse sob broke free.
“I had a dream where you’d died, Father,” Trystan managed a whisper. “I feared I’d never see you again.”
“I’m sorry for everything, Trystan. I never should have said the things I said to you. I was drunk and angry and I took it out on you.” Owaine released him and opened the space between them. “You are my son, and I never should have implied otherwise.”
“All right,” Noah interjected, placing a hand on Myrddin’s shoulder. “All of you inside now. By the looks of that kiss earlier and the little girl in your care, I suspect there’s quite a story to be heard.”
Myrddin’s lips curved up on one side. He gave Trystan a quick glance as he stepped inside after Noah. “Her name is Emma, and the wolf there is Artemis. The two of them go everywhere together.”
“Do you mind if Artemis comes inside?” Trystan asked.
“Not at all,” Noah replied.
As they gathered around the table, Noah added another log to the fire and Owaine poured ale for all of them.
Myrddin knelt and set a groggy Emma on her feet. “Emma, wake up, sweetheart, so you can meet your grandfathers.”
“We’re here?” she asked in her adorable, tiny voice.
“We are.”
Emma looked up at the faces surrounding her, and the smile that spread over her lips touched her eyes. “Hello.”
“Emma, these are my fathers, Owaine and Noah,” Trystan said, gesturing to each respectively. “They took me in when I was a baby, shortly after my parents died.”
Her smile brightened even as it held a touch of sadness. “Just the way you and Papa did with me.”
