by S. L. Viehl
Xonea set Marel down on her feet, and the little girl stared up at me. Hawk appeared on the edge of the crowd, distracting the toddler for a moment. He smiled as she headed straight for him, then patted the lower part of one of his wings.
“She has the same eyes as you, Cherijo.”
“Yes, she does.” I knelt down and held out my hand. “Marel?”
Marel took a couple of steps forward on unsteady legs, then looked back at Xonea. “Mine?”
“Yes, Marel.” To me, my ClanBrother said, I showed her photoscans every day so she would know.”
The little girl pointed to me. “Mine.”
“Yes, Marel.” I’d waited over a year to hear that. “I’m all yours.”
The baby toddled over and reached up for me with her tiny hands. I carefully lifted her and closed my eyes at the feel of her slight weight in my arms. Her hair was so soft beneath my palm.
Oh God. She was real. “Hello, sweetie.”
“Mine mama.” She patted my cheek and gave me a delighted, four-toothed grin. Her eyes changed from green to blue. “Where been, Mama?”
My throat hurt. “I’ve been trying to get back to you, sweetie.”
Marel thought about that. “Stay now?”
“Yes, I’ll stay now. I won’t leave you again.” I turned slightly. “There’s someone else here who wants to meet you.”
She looked at Reever with a great deal of interest. “Him?”
“That’s him.”
“Mine?” She cocked her little head, then reached out her other hand.
Something incredible happened when that small hand touched Duncan’s face. The blank mask that I’d never seen him without vanished. Then he smiled.
Duncan Reever smiled.
Our daughter patted his cheek. “Mine daddy.”