“How are you, really?” she asks, and I know she’s not asking about the pregnancy or the children or anything surface-level.
“I’m happy,” I say simply. “Happier than I ever thought I could be.”
She smiles, linking her arm through mine. “You deserve it. After everything you’ve been through. Everything we’ve all been through.”
We walk in silence for a while, just breathing in the night air, listening to the crickets and the distant sounds of guards changing shifts.
“Jaylene and Anson really hit it off,” I say eventually.
Astra groans. “Don’t. Lucian’s already talking about building a moat around her tower. And threatening to screen every boy who looks at her for the rest of her life.”
I laugh. “I’m not trying to matchmake. They’re four and five years old. I just want them to be friends. To be kids. To be happy.”
“I know.” She squeezes my arm. “And they will be. All of them.”
When I return to our guest chambers, Kieran is already in bed, reading a book by lamplight. He looks up when I enter and sets the book aside.
“Are they all asleep?” I ask, moving to check on the children one more time. They’re in the adjoining room, all three of them curled up in one big bed even though we have three separate ones for them. Anson has one arm slung over Bella, protective even in sleep. Veer is starfished across the bottom, taking up more space than seems possible for such a small person.
My heart clenches. My babies.
I close the door softly and return to our room. Kieran watches me as I undress, his eyes tracking my movements with familiar heat.
“Are you happy?” he asks as I slip into bed beside him.
“You always ask me that.”
“Because I want to make sure. Every day.” He pulls me close, his hand settling over my stomach. “Are you happy, Daciana?”
I turn to face him, cupping his jaw. “I’ve never been happier.”
It’s the truth. The absolute truth.
He strokes my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheekbone. “When we first met, I was determined to keep you atarm’s length, and you were determined not to let that happen. I’m glad.”
I smile. “To be honest, you seemed like a lot of trouble, but now you’re my trouble, and I’m glad.”
His eyes soften, and I see emotion flicker there. “I love watching you with our children. The way you are with them. So fierce and protective, but so gentle, too.”
“I’m still a warrior,” I remind him.
“I know.” His smile is soft. “But you’re also a mother. A mate. So much more than the woman who only knew how to fight.” His hand moves to my stomach again, pressing gently where our fourth child grows. “Should we stop after this one?”
I laugh. “You’re asking me that now? While I’m pregnant?”
“I’m planning ahead.” But there’s humor in his voice. “Four is a lot of children.”
“It is.” I cover his hand with mine. “Let’s get through this one first. Then we can talk about it.”
“Fair enough.”
He kisses me slowly and deeply, and I lose myself in it. In him. In this life we’ve built together.
When he falls asleep, his breathing calm, I stay awake a little longer. Thinking. Remembering.
My hand drifts to my stomach, and I feel the subtle flutter of life beneath my palm. Our fourth child. Another baby I never thought I’d get to have. A family I never thought I’d get to keep.
I think about my brothers—the two who survived, who Kieran managed to save from Celeste’s dungeon. They’re building new lives. Learning to live without the parents we all lost. They’ve come to visit me once in these five years in the Snow Mountain Pack. They act like uncles to my children. They’re strangers and family all at once, bound by grief and blood and the simple fact that we lived to tell the tales. But we focus on the family aspect.
