I rolled my eyes. “Really, Castor? Do you have to be so loud?”
“Always.” He smirked.
“Did you send word to—”
“Yes, yes,” he said, waving me off. “I sent two letters. One to Princess Réalta and another to Gilen and Alistar. Both replied that they will come to visit within the month. And offer their congratulations.”
Peace in Valdor was no longer a dream, but a reality.
Fallen disappeared with Minaeve’s magic, along with the harpies and garmr. The hunters were given a choice toallow Isolde and the other human healers blessed with magic to strip them of their abilities or die by my flames. To mine and Réalta’s disappointment, many chose the latter.
I healed Gilen on the battlefield, and he chose to remain in Solace. He earned the title of a sub-alpha, overseeing our people on the mainland with his father, Alistar, close by his side. Réalta, my cousin, lived up to her promise and granted peace with the humans. Gilen and the princess worked well together after the war, signing treaties and, with my approval, granting freedom to all to live within the lands. There were no more shifter or human territories. Everyone had the freedom to live where they wished.
I had a sneaky suspicion that there was something more than court politics between them, but to this day, they refused to stake a claim to any such bond.
Lame. I was really hoping for something there.
Nyssa appeared beside Castor, her expression full of amusement as her fingers moved gracefully. “Did you really expect anything different?”
“Alright.” Castor clapped his hands together. “Where is—”
“He,” I cut in. “Heis right here.” I moved upright, easing my son so the light touched his face, giving Castor a clear view of his nephew.
Castor stilled. And for once, the High Fae, known for his silver tongue and a complete lack of a verbal filter, said nothing.
I watched as his breath caught, his dark stare never leaving my son’s face.
“Castor?” Nyssa signed gently, stepping closer. “My love?”
Silently, Castor moved toward me. He reached out, hovering his hand above the tiny blanket-wrapped bundle, as if afraid the slightest contact might shatter something sacred. The show from before fell away from him piece by piece, leaving only raw, stunned awe in its place.
“Gods,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “He’s… he’s so small.”
Nyssa’s hand slipped onto his shoulder as she smiled down at my child.
“Small?” I chuckled. “He’s nearly ten pounds, Castor. And he sure didn’t feel small coming out.”
Castor swallowed hard, blinking fast. His eyes were glowing with something deeper. Something unguarded. “He’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice cracking on the last word.
“Here,” I said, placing my baby in his uncle’s arms.
His brows raised with surprise as the baby cooed softly, opening his eyes and staring at Castor for the first time. My son made a babbling sound, but he didn’t cry. He only reached for his uncle, curling his finger around Castor’s pinky.
Nyssa leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the baby’s head. “He already loves you, Castor.”
Castor huffed a quiet, shaky laugh. “Yeah, well… he’d better. I plan on spoiling him rotten.” He glanced beside me as Daxton teleported back into the room with company in tow. “My brother will have to try and stop me.”
But when he looked back at my son, the swagger slipped again, replaced by an admiration so rare in him it made my throat tighten.
“Sky!” Neera had barely taken two steps toward my bed before her expression shifted, the softness I’d known the last twenty-eight years tightening into something sharper.
Her eyes narrowed. “Skylar,” she said, her voice still gentle but with an edge of hurt, “you went into labor… and you didn’t summon me?”
Her gown, a deep moss green, faded to black at the hem, rustled around her bare feet. Silver threads wove through the fabric in swirling patterns of roots and stars. Her dark midnight hair cascaded in long, loose waves.
Daxton inhaled quietly while Castor snorted in amusement, and Seamus chuckled softly, shaking his head. He placed his hand on the small of Neera’s back. A subtle gesture, but enough to say he was already preparing to mediate if needed.
I sighed. “Neera—”
