“I fight to win.”
“Fine.” She glared at him. “I’m pregnant. Just like Mairwen said.” How in the world it had happened so quickly was beyond her. Either she was the most fertile human being in existence, or he was, or they both were. Regardless, she hadn’t gotten the period that was way overdo, and she knew why thanks to a jar of either wheat or barley seed, she couldn’t remember which, that had sprouted after she peed in it. According to thirteenth century midwives, that was a reliable pregnancy test, and hers was ragingly positive. “Are you happy now?”
He went serious and wrapped an arm around her. “Are ye not happy?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” she admitted with some small sense of defeat, “and terrified.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because I don’t know anything about being a good mother.”
“Aye, ye do.” He took her hand and graced a kiss across her knuckles. “Ye know ’tis bad to leave yer wee bairn and never return, do ye not?”
“Well, of course I know that.” She knew where he was going with this. They’d had this conversation too many times before, and she didn’t want to revisit it.
He grinned. “Then ye ken what to do—love them with all yer heart and guide them the way in which they should go.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “And I shall help. As will all of dragon and humankind. The Realm is overjoyed about the wee one’s coming.”
She stared at him, feeling more complete and content than she’d ever felt in her life, yet also so very confused—astounded even. The timeline of this love, of this relationship, was unbelievable. A soft sob escaped her as she reached out and touched his cheek.
Immediate concern and protectiveness shouted from him. “My love—what is it?” He eased her into his arms, then gently swiped his fingers through the tears streaming down her face. “Why do ye weep? What troubles ye? Are ye in pain?”
“I’m just so happy,” she said through another emotional sob, “and I’m afraid it’s not real. That I’m going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. I’ve never been this happy before”—she ducked her head, unable to stop the words, the heartfelt confession, her deepest fears, from spilling from her lips—“I never thought I deserved this kind of happiness, this kind of love. I always felt…unworthy. Like I was discarded trash that no one wanted.” She snorted and turned away, pressing the back of her hand up against her nose. The stupid thing alwaysstarted running whenever she cried. “I wasted so much money on therapy. Lot of good it did, huh?”
He turned her back to him, cupping her face in his hands. “I dinna ken whattherapyis, nor do I care. But I do know ye deserve every happiness in all creation. Ye are loved, Lyla. Adored. And not just by me.” He drew closer and pressed his forehead to hers. “Although, never forget that I love and adore ye the most.” After a kiss to the bridge of her runny nose, he continued, “We have loved each other through thousands of lifetimes. Reunited our souls thousands of times. That is why once we find each other, it takes no time at all to fall in love all over again—each time deeper than before.” His smile warmed her heart, as did the adoration in his eyes as, once again, he rested his hand on her stomach. “And that is why when we reunite, it takes no time at all for our love to bear fruit.”
“I love you.” She pulled a square of linen from her sleeve and blew her nose. What a way to kill the moment. “Sorry.”
Grinning, he tucked a crooked finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. “I love ye more than the moon loves the stars. More than the land loves the sea, and more than the sun loves the sky. Ye are everything and more to me, my own. Everything.”
She couldn’t resist teasing him for waxing so poetic. “How do you know those things love each other?”
“Because they complete each other, just as ye complete me.”
“You’re going to make me cry again.” She dove into his arms and held on tight.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her just as tightly. “I love ye, my own. Forever.”
“I love you more,” she whispered, burying her face against his neck and breathing him in, soaking in his warmth, reveling in the completeness of being in his arms. “I love you forever and back again.”
He chuckled. “Aye, my precious lass. Forever and back again.”
Epilogue
Scotland’s Thirteenth Realm
Summer of the Thirteenth Age
“My son.”Magnus struggled to speak through the overpowering wonder of holding his wriggling son in his arms. “Evander, now. Hush, my lad. ’Tis all right. Da has ye.”
The red-faced babe batted and waved his tiny fists, squawking and fussing like a wee angry bird.
“Aye, son, I know ye want yer mother.” He walked with a bouncing gait, trying to appease the angry beastie who had already filled his belly, soiled his clout, gotten a fresh one, then filled his belly again. “But she needs a bit of sleep, and ye do as well.” He took the bairn to the open window and showed him the moonlit sky. “See there? ’Tis night, and unless ye’re a wee owl, that is when all fine laddies sleep so they’ll grow into braw warriors who’ll never be bested.”
Lyla appeared beside him, yawning as she reached for the babe. “Here. Let me walk with him awhile.”
“My love, ye’re about to fall over with weariness. Let me fetch Frannia to walk with him. ’Tis why we brought her in asnursemaid, ye ken?” Reluctantly, Magnus handed Evander over, already missing the babe’s precious warmth as soon as he passed him into Lyla’s arms.
“He needs to be with me,” Lyla said, smiling down at her angry cherub. “I’m his mama, and this is how it’s supposed to be.” She tipped her head at their bed. “Sleep. You’re just as exhausted as I am.”
