“I do,” Pollux mutters.
I lose my grasp on his child’s head. “You…what?”
Pollux says, “I know how cute you are.”
Surely not. Absolutely, completely, surely not. I amcutenow. I wasnotcute once upon a time. Specifically in theonce upon a timewhen my path crossed with Pollux’s.
Danielle, merciless, continues, “He’s really so very cute, isn’t he?”
“Yes,” Pollux confirms.
Light as a feather and bright as a sun, Danielle eagerly scoots toward him. “Do you have any cute stories you can share with me, in the spirit oflover’s family showing girlfriend baby photos?”
I am balking,appalled, distressed! And…yet. Lover’s family.Myfamily.
I cannot find the strength in myself to utter another word.
“Tor’s always been dramatic,” Pollux begins. “Whenever he’d get upset but not mad, he’d cross his arms.” The man lifts his finger, pointing at me. “Like that.”
My crossed arms tense.
“He’s sulking. And it’s adorable.”
Danielle strokes my hair. “He’s dealing with big feelings right now, but I think these ones are good for him.”
I huff. Feelings arenevergood for me. Never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, e—
The child gets me a cinnamon roll. Placing the plate in my lap, she says, “Here, Uncle Castor. Ollie-nii-san makes the best treats.”
I snort, but it exits me more like a scoff. “Ollie-nii-san?”
“It means big brother in Japanese,” Andromeda clarifies. As though I don’t know this. I’ve had ages to travel this world and learn countless languages. What amuses me is that I am dubbedunclewhile Ollie getsbrothered.
“What is Zylus?” I ask, purely curious if this is based onpersonalityorage. As the other ancient here apart from her father, Zylus should surely also be an “uncle.”
“Mom!” Andromeda cheers.
I lose my composure.
Willow dryly concurs, “I am, also, mother, in case you wanted to know that.”
I did. I very much did. Shaking, I curl over my plate of cinnamon roll as laughter fights a losing battle inside me. Danielle’s joy pours around me, in response to me…in response to mine. And I realize with stark confidence that she is happy because I’m happy.
That very notion causes something to swell within my chest, bringing me from laughter quite nearly to the brink of tears.
“Someone needs to draw the family tree for me,” my mate says. “I feel like I need a chart to help clarify everything I’ve missed.”
“I have a family tree!” Andromeda blurts. “I can text you a picture.”
“Is it covered in blood and entrails?” I query.
Delightful and sweet, Andromeda says, “Nooo.”
I wouldn’t be inclined to believe her tone if she were human, but given that she’s fae, I am uncertain whether she’s mastered the art of partial answers on top of sarcasm and misdirection, or if she’s telling the truth. Anoon its own, after all, is not truly a lie without more clarification.
Perhaps Danielle does need a clear chart to depict and explain how exactly everyone here is connected. I recall rambling the details at her once, but I’m unsure whether or not they managed to stick. If I had to guess, I’d say there’s approximately five books of content she’s behind on.
Five…stories, rather.
