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The same friendly full moon shone down upon us, I was certain, and the air seemed less frigid here, somehow.

Still, Maardok made short work of setting up the tent some distance into the woods, and by the time the mist abruptly disappeared—locking us here in his world for at least the next month—we had a cozy little camp. All four of us crowded into the tent and slept as well as we could with a hungry newborn.

The second full day of my babe’s life was much the same. We traveled toward the coast, Ewan carrying him atop the horse, awed by the responsibility, and Maardok carrying me. He didn’t push us as hard, and stopped to forage and hunt where possible, to ensure we ate well. In truth, it had been months since I had eaten so well.

When he cupped the babe in his huge hands, I watched his face. The wonder I saw made me cry. Or mayhap ‘twas the strain of the journey and the birth which made me cry; I found myself tearing up at the way Maardok called Ewan “son” and the lad’s sweet efforts to help.

By the time we camped that night, ‘twas obvious the horse was weakening from the cold, and so were we. The days of travel were wearing, regardless of the whole just having given birth thing.

The third day past the stones was the same, but we reached a small settlement on the coast…humans and orcs living together. Ewan wasn’t the only one to gape.

Honestly, what amazed me wasn’t so much the fact that human women went about their chores alongside orcs, but that everyone seemed so…cheerful. In the town where I was raised, we were very aware of our neighbors’ opinions and how damaging they can be. We were quiet and suspicious and made ourselves small, except for the few men in power who made themselves very, very big.

I saw none of that here.

Granted, this was little more than a collection of huts—four families, mayhap, clustered around a little cove which housed their fishing boats. But they all seemed excited to meet us, to show us around, to cluck over Ewan’s bravery and fuss over the bairn and me. They were kind and welcoming and not at all suspicious, and that was more remarkable to me than the fact human women lived among them.

That night, one couple gave up their bed so my sons and I might fall into the most comfortable sleep I’d had in months.

Maardok slept curled up by the hearth. I began to object, to offer him a spot in the bed…but I think he was asleep before he stretched out, and I realized how hard he’d pushed himself these last days.

The next morning, we traded the exhausted horse for passage to Islay, and, after thanking our hosts, we were halfway to safety before the sun was fully up in the sky.

I watched Maardok, who stood at the front of the vessel, his nose pointed eagerly toward Islay, and I recognized his expression.

Home.

We were going home, as far as he was concerned, but…

I peered down at the face of our son, bundled against the cold, but still so adorable my chest ached. Who would have thought that blending my blood with Maardok’s could create a creature who seemed so perfect, despite being of two species?

Who even knew orcs and humans could breed?

Islay wasn’t home, not for me. Us. I hadn’t had a home since John pushed us from the town for some twisted reason only he knew. We might be safe in Battleborn Village, but could we stay there? Could I stand to live somewhere with expectations and doubt, or would I be happier on my own?

I glanced up at Maardok to see him crossing toward me, Ewan on his hip.

The moment we’d stepped foot on the boat, the lad had rushed to the opposite side to peer at the water and would have fallen in had Maardok been slower in his reaction time. The male hadn’t released Ewan since then.

“—Verra cold,” he was saying now, his tone both patient and stern. “My people make their living from the sea, and we ken how frigid ‘tis. If a boat capsizes in the winter, the sailors freeze before they can drown.”

The pair of them reached me, and as Maardok skimmed his gaze over the small bundle of possessions upon which I sat—likely ensuring naught had come loose on the passage—I saw my son swallow and bury his face against Maardok’s shoulder.

I smiled at how thoroughly Maardok had communicated his warning.

Now, he settled beside me, his feet spread confidently, his arm wrapped around Ewan, and he reached down to stroke a fingertip over the babe’s cheek.

“Ye are both well? Nae seasickness?”

“None from me, to my surprise.” I shifted my wee bundle so the babe’s big dark gaze faced his father. “I cannot tell when it comes to him. Unlike his brother, this one has not spewed up any of his milk, ever.”

A grin flashed across Maardok’s lips. “Orcs ken better than to waste food like that. He is desperate to grow as fast as he can to match his brother.”

He patted Ewan’s arse absentmindedly, and again I was struck by how at-ease he’d been when it came to caring for my son.

“What will ye name him?”

I blinked, confused by my thoughts. “Ewan?”