Six weeks later, our daughter was born. A perfect girl with light gray skin and blue eyes, which I hoped one day might turn silver like her father’s.
She had no wings, but she had budding horns that Kaldur would run the pad of his finger over in awe, ever careful with his claws.
We named her Alysara. In the Kylorr tongue, it meantbeautiful dawn. After a full day of labor, the name was fitting, considering she’d been born just as the sun had crested over the forests of Vyaan. And that morning, when I’d held her in my arms for the first time, with tears streaming down my cheeks, as hair had clung to my damp forehead, all the pain had been forgotten and I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life than our daughter.
It was the first time I’d seen Kaldur cry.
Perhaps in sheer relief, considering the delivery had been difficult. He’d stayed at my side every moment, a pillar of strength seeing me through. But there had been times when I’d caught the stray edge of fear he couldn’t hide, as if confronted again with the possibility of losing his mate.
But then I’d watched my husband, my mate fall in love with our daughter, with glassy eyes and a quiet expression, his hands hovering over her like he could conjure a shield around her, to keep her forever safe.
He’d pressed his lips to her forehead as she’d wailed with life, flaring his wings over us so that Ekor and the handful of midwives he’d had at the ready couldn’t see our very private moment. They’d filed out of the room, leaving us alone so that we could coo over our child, admiring every little part.
And in the days that followed, we tucked ourselves away in the keep. Mostly for me to recover my strength and for Kaldur to watch over me. He didn’t let anyone disturb us, only Ekor to check on me and Maudoric, who he would never say no to. I would wake sometimes to find Kaldur holding Alysara by the window, rocking her back to sleep, the tiny bundle of blankets in his arms laughably small against the bulk of his body. I’d never known such peace, such joy and love as I did in those moments. If she was awake, however, he’d bring her to come feed. I’d feel the pinch of her latching onto my breast, contentment and relief flowing through me, as Kaldur watched.
And in the weeks that followed, once I could leave the bed and we got a better handle on our new routine and life with our daughter, we welcomed his family to meet their newest member of House Kaalium. Azur and Gemma, who had a wonderful calm about her that immediately made me feel at ease, though I’d been nervous about meeting them. Kythel and Millie, the stoic and quiet Kylorr male a complete contrast to the warm openness of his wife. Thaine and Lucen.
Kalia, Kaldur’s only sister, pressed her lips to my cheeks when she met me, embracing me tightly. “Welcome, sister,” she whispered so no one else could hear. And I sunk into her, a feeling ofbelongingfinally hitting me with the words. They made me feel like I belonged in this family, like I wasn’t out of place. For one the oldest legacies in all the Kaalium, they made anorphan girl feel like she’d finally found a permanent place to call home.
Kalia had much to say about how we’d wed without inviting the family, however. Kaldur and I hadn’t wanted to wait to be married, though it was certainly out of the ordinary for aKyzaire’s wedding to be so rushed. Though Azur and Gemma had married off-planet, in a quick and cold ceremony at a Nulaxy courthouse, so they came to our defense.
In the end, Kaldur merely said he couldn’t wait to be married to me, and it seemed to please Kalia enough that she let it drop. With the promise, however, that she would throw us a celebration ball when we were next in Laras. Only when we agreed did she let it go.
They all doted on Alysara, naturally—especially and surprisingly Thaine.
But inevitably they needed to return to their respective territories, though Kalia lingered in Vyaan a week longer than the rest. Which I thought relieved Kaldur because he had someone he trusted to watch over me—with the exception of Braanelle—when he had to be away in the villages.
Eventually she too left, murmuring about an obligation in Laras she couldn’t put off. And while the keep certainly felt quieter after her departure, having my husband and my daughter all to myself again was a relief.
The first night the keep was quiet again, Kaldur put Alysara to sleep in our bed, her little face scrunched against his bare chest, his wide palm over her back. He’d dozed on and off, his tiredness a combination of helping with her late night feedings and Vyaan business, and I found I could watch them forever. Instead of reaching for my sketchbook, one of which I always kept near, I simply enjoyed the moment, tracing over the lines of their bodies, the quietness of their expressions, the movements of Kaldur’s chest which made Alysara lift and fall.
In that moment, and in many more, I knew true happinessand love. And it was more beautiful and awe-inspiring than I could’ve ever dreamed up.
“There’s someone here for you,”Kaldur whispered into my ear after he came into my studio. He glanced over at Alysara, napping in the little bassinet we’d set up for her near my drafting table. His gaze went soft, as it always did when he looked at his daughter. He reached down to smooth his finger across her cheek, as if he couldn’t help himself.
“Who?” I whispered back, feeling a swell of pride and affection fill me when I looked down at Aly.Perfection,I thought.
“A surprise,” Kaldur said, meeting my eyes again. “Out on the garden terrace. I’ll watch her. You go.”
I looked down at the last of my drawings for Kavelyn’s book. The final one before I could send everything to the printer to be bound and distributed. A hundred copies would go to each territory to start. I was so close, I could taste it. A dream finally coming true.
Curiosity drove me out of the room after one last lingering kiss on Alysara’s cheek. I navigated the keep until I found the door of the garden terrace in the East Wing, Braanelle waiting just beyond it, always on duty. But I didn’t think that was who Kaldur had meant.
Instead I spied a familiar head of dark hair through the glass door. I gasped, pulling it open, my heart thudding.
The hybrid Kylorr male turned when he heard me. Blue eyes pierced me.
“Luc,” I breathed, happy, confused, hopeful, relieved. I stood, frozen on the terrace in front of him as I tried to understand how he’d come to be here.
But then…
Kaldur.
Of course.
“Erina,” he said, his lips lifting in a half smile, uncertain as he studied me. There was a wash of emotion that entered his eyes, his gaze going over me, studying my still-recovering body from the birth, the slight rounding of my belly still apparent. “I—I’m so…”
I heard what went unspoken, the hurried words clogging up in his throat, as if he couldn’t wait another moment to get them out.
