“Nothing. Nature’s doing it for us.” Rafe rubbed Thalia’s spread knees. “This is not how I envisaged this afternoon going, mate.”
“Me either.” Her hands came up to reach for Rafe’s. “Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not, love, and I never could be.”
Tears fell from her eyes, falling down over her cheeks like trails of diamonds. “I love you. I love you all so much. And I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Theo demanded.
“Bringing this chaos into your lives. You were normal, and I wrecked that. I wreck everything,” she sobbed.
Theo leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The spongy surface of the rock he knelt on conformed to the pressure as he whispered, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
Mikkel’s hand came to rest on her belly. “And me. If I could ask for one thing in this life, it would be you.”
She let out a sob, and began to cry harder when Rafe murmured, “My life would be nothing without you in it.” Then, he sucked down a sharp breath and, a wild wonder in his voice, whispered, “I can see the head.”
Stunned, Theo just stared at Rafe, who looked as crazed as he felt inside. Then, Thalia let out a bone-shattering scream and it mingled with the sounds of their baby’s first cry.
In less than five minutes, they’d gone from prospective fathers to fathers.
When the fuck had that happened?
****
Mikkel
She was tiny. So small that Mikkel didn’t know how he wouldn’t hurt her. Just holding her made how delicate her form was, her tiny bones, her squishy head that totally looked like something from the Coneheads movie, all the more apparent.
He wasn’t ready to be a father.
Wasn’t ready to change diapers and be pissed on and to be woken up at three in the morning because their kid needed feeding, and yet…
Here she was.
Her eyes were blue. So fucking blue they made Thalia’s looked washed out. They nearly fucking glowed with how blue they were, and they stared up at him with an intelligence that no newborn should possess.
There was a kind of downy hair on her head that was as light as her mother’s, and though her cheeks were pudgy, her nose was pure Thalia’s too. He didn’t see any of her fathers in the baby’s face, but fuck, she’d been around for less than ten minutes. She had to grow into her features, didn’t she?
His body was trembling as he lowered his head to press a kiss to her head. Rafe had handed her to him once Theo had cut the cord with his glamor, while he dealt with the afterbirth. Mikkel was supposed to be cleaning her up so Thalia could hold her, but every time he carefully pooled water over her head, trying to get off some of the blood and whatever other gross shit she was covered in, she’d blink up at him and he got distracted.
Those eyes.
Jesus.
They sucker punched him.
Should a kid have this much power over her dad?
Mikkel wasn’t sure, but fuck, whenever she did that, he felt like the world paused, took a deep breath, and then carried on… just a little bit more beautiful than it had been a second ago.
He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t. But.
But.
He sucked in a shuddery breath, feeling like his universe had just rebooted itself in the tiniest form imaginable.
“Mikkel? Thalia needs to hold her,” Theo murmured, but his voice was gentle. Calming.
For once, that calm tone didn’t bother him. He just gnawed at his lip as propping her on his palm—because she was that goddamn small, his hand literally cupped her back with his fingers propping up her head—he lowered her to the warm water. Carefully moving more of the gore off her tiny body, he swallowed as she carried on blinking up at him.
Weren’t newborns supposed to be blind? Or was that some crap he’d heard his mother spewing when his sister had given birth?
But she looked at him like she saw him. There wasn’t a haze about her vision. She seemed to know what he was doing, but how was that possible?
“Mikkel?” Thalia’s voice was soft, but more raspy than usual—that came from her screaming herself hoarse. Fuck, she’d scared the shit out of him when she’d started screaming that way.
She hadn’t even yelled when she’d begun freefalling, plummeting hundreds of feet in the length of time it took for him to blink.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning to her so he could give her the child. The baby squirmed as she was passed over to her mother, but the second she was there, in Thalia’s arms, she seemed to release a soft sigh.
Recognition.
Mother and child.
Fuck.
His heart thudded dully in his chest. Each pulse like a boom as he stared at his new world.
His everything.
A shiver ran down his spine as their little girl stared up at her mother, those two sets of magical blue eyes peering at one another until Thalia’s grew wet and she began to cry again. “Oh Gods, she’s beautiful. Beautiful,” she breathed.
Because he felt as punch drunk, he rested his hand on her stomach, which hadn’t even shown a bump. What the fuck was that about?
Their kid was small, but not like a premature baby. Just little.
He couldn’t stop himself from sprawling at her side, then shuffling over to her back. He maneuvered himself so that, instead of leaning on the rock, Thalia was resting against him. She smiled up at him, and that smile? Sweet Jesus, it worked on his heart, making it melt, making him melt for her.
At that moment, he felt as high as a kite with the emotions flooding him. He didn’t care that this was the weirdest shit ever, didn’t give a fuck that his mate had just given birth on a floating rock in the middle of some bizarre sea, and that two flying horses were watching the proceedings with sparkling eyes. All he could process was how magical this was. His woman in his arms. Their child in hers.
It helped that, when the baby started nuzzling her chest, Thalia pulled her top down to aid in their daughter’s search for milk. Hell, it made him a pervert to ogle her, but the second, their kid found the nipple, it changed. Morphed.
Their woman was nourishing their daughter.
Fuck!
He blinked, felt his eyes prick with tears at the power that these two delicate creatures had over him. Over them all.
Looking up, he saw Rafe and Theo were just as dumbstruck. They were watching, silently, waiting quietly. Their focus on mother and child absolute.
Reaching around to cup the back of her head, he murmured, “Serafina.”
Thalia hummed. “What?”
“Serafina,” he whispered. “Her name.” Peering over at Rafe and Theo, he carried on, “That’s her name.”
“Do you know what that means?” Theo asked, curious more than mad at Mikkel’s decisive tone.
“No, I just know it’s her name.” It was an arrogant statement, but it wasn’t intended as such. If anything, it was… He blew out a breath. Shit, he didn’t know. The name just popped into his head.
“It has two meanings,” Theo explained.
“What are they?” Thalia asked, that Madonna smile still curving her mouth as Serafina tugged and found the nourishment she needed.
“It means ‘heavenly angel.’”
She laughed a little, but the sound was gentle, as gentle as the ambience around them. “How fitting.”
“What else does it mean?” Rafe asked.
“’Burning one,’” he murmured.
Thalia scowled. “I don’t want her name to mean that.”
He shook his head. “They’re a part of Christian mythology. Seraphim were the highest order of angels in the Bible. They had six wings and protected the Throne of God,” he murmured and, at that moment, the earth seemed to tremble beneath Mikkel.
“Whoa,” he whispered, but stayed silent as no one else appeared affected by the revelation.
Thalia stiffened. “Theo?”
“What, dearling?”
he asked, reaching up to curve a finger over the baby’s brow.
“When would her wings come through? If she hadn’t given them to me, I mean?”
Theo frowned, shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d have to ask mother. I don’t know a lot about children,” he confessed.
She swallowed but nodded. “Okay. I-I do like that name though.” Humming under her breath, she murmured, “Serafina? Do you like that name?”
The child had closed her eyes as she sucked down milk like Mikkel did his first beer when he was Stateside after a hellishly long tour of duty. But at her mother’s question, her eyes popped open and she stared deeply into Thalia’s eyes.
“I think we have our answer,” he whispered, his tone reverent as, once again, the world seemed to quake beneath him.
18
Rafe
Serafina didn’t cry.
Not as long as she was in one of her parents’ arms.
They anticipated her needs; feeding her, bathing her, changing her to a routine they quickly adopted.
Well, Rafe reasoned, they weren’t in charge of the routine.
She was.
Was it bizarre?
Yes. But everything in his life was. And Serafina seemed to be no different.
There was an aged wisdom in her eyes that scared him. Not in a ‘pissing himself from terror’ kind of fear, but in a ‘oh Gods, I have a daughter who looks wiser than me’ kind of way.
She seemed to know things.
Things a newborn shouldn’t.
He’d looked her over the minute she was in his arms. The labor had been textbook perfection, and though that could have been good fortune considering their lack of facilities, he thought that was Serafina’s doing too.
Thalia didn’t tear, didn’t need stitches. She’d barely had to push, for Caelus’ sake. Serafina had popped out as easily as biscuit dough did when it was released from its container.
He hadn’t been able to weigh her, but she was small. Not undersized, but there was a delicacy about her that he knew terrified Mikkel. When he held her in the taut bundles that Isaura, of all people, had taught them, Rafe knew Mikkel wanted to squeeze her to make sure he didn’t drop her, and yet, squeezing her would have hurt her. Watching the soldier being unmanned by his tiny baby daughter would have been amusing if said baby daughter wasn’t unmanning her ancient Fae father as well as her Changeling/Doctor dad.
She was unique. Absolutely unlike any child he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a few in his time. Not just during his OB-GYN rotations as a resident, but his sisters’ kids too.
“She is most unusual.” The words were a declaration that had all four of Serafina’s parents stiffening, but then Isaura murmured, “I like unusual. It is only fitting considering she is the first of a new generation.” The soon-to-be Queen incumbent smiled at them. “I think it’s even more fitting that such a creature should be the reason for a change of Queen.”
Thalia huffed and held out her hands for the baby. When Isaura ignored her, settling deeper into one of the plush loveseats in the sitting room that had made an appearance off Theo’s suite—Rafe didn’t even want to know how much glamor that had taken. Especially when taking into consideration the new nursery and bathing chamber that had appeared overnight as well—Theo got to his feet. Before Isaura could do more than grumble, he held out his hands, beckoning his mother to obey with his fingers.
She grumbled, but did, in fact, obey, and Theo, lifting Serafina high, pressed a kiss to her forehead, before moving her into Thalia’s arms. The way she snuggled into her was a sight for sore eyes. The instant connection was something he’d never imagined possible.
These two were more than just mother and daughter.
But then, they were no ordinary women. Why should their connection be ordinary?
“Well, that is a sight to behold,” Isaura murmured softly, a warm smile curving her lips as she took in Thalia and Serafina together.
It wasn’t the first time she’d seen them like this, nor was it the first time she’d mentioned the bond—it sparkled to life in a way that made it impossible not to comment on.
“Serafina needs to sleep, Isaura,” Mikkel murmured.
“I know.” She pouted. “They sleep so much at this age. However, I wanted to speak about tomorrow.”
Thalia wriggled, for the first time ill at ease. “Do we have to?”
“Yes, dear,” Isaura said drily. “It’s your coronation.”
“The minute she’s crowned, we have to return to Earth,” Theo told his mother, his eyes glued to Serafina.
“Why, sweet Gods, would you need to do that?”
Theo and Thalia looked at one another. When she nodded, he murmured, “Terra has spoken.”
Silence fell at those three words. Then Kane, Theo’s father, reached out for Isaura’s hand. He squeezed, and Rafe watched as he placed their bound hands on his lap. To keep her close to him? Rafe asked himself. To make sure she didn’t, what? Walk off? Cause a scene?
But Isaura’s voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, “She spoke with you?”
Thalia bit her bottom lip, and not looking away from Serafina, nodded.
“Sweet Gods,” Isaura breathed. “She hasn’t spoken with me since my coronation.” Her mouth trembled. “It is right, I suppose, considering the circumstances.”
“Why must you return to the other realm?” Kane asked, his voice gruff as he slid his arm over Isaura’s shoulder. When the feisty Queen cuddled into his side, Rafe realized just how discombobulated she was.
“Because Serafina’s birth has changed things there,” Thalia whispered. “I don’t know what. But I have to…” She reached forward to kiss the top of the baby’s head—more for her own comfort than Serafina’s, Rafe thought. “Terra said I have to lead them into a new age.”
Isaura narrowed her eyes. “This is unusual.”
Everything was unusual. When wasn’t it in this realm?
“While we’re gone, Mother, we’ll need your help here.”
Kane sighed. “The people won’t like it.”
“It’s not like we have a choice. Thalia can be Queen, but they know Mother. And there is no time for Thalia to learn her new duties when her purpose is elsewhere. That purpose affects Heden, Father.”
“It does?” Kane straightened in his seat, and Rafe was reminded that Kane was the General of Isaura’s army. “How?”
“Terra said I’m to bring Morningstar to Heden. He’s to repent.”
“How’s he to do that?” Isaura snapped, jerking away from her husband to bristle in her seat.
“I don’t know. I just know that I’m to take him to the waters in Trierna.” She shrugged, jostling Serafina who gurgled at the movement.
“The waters in Trierna?” Isaura repeated, but this time her tone bordered on saturnine. “Terra told you this?”
“Yes. She said you would question me.” Her words had Isaura blanching. “She even advised me not to tell you. But I respect you, Isaura. I have no desire to keep an ally in the dark.
“We must return to Earth in order to retrieve Morningstar.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t know how one leads to the other. I speak only of what Terra told me.”
Isaura seemed to take an age to process that. Her beautiful features were pinched with strain as she did so. Then, she murmured, “Very well. Kane and I will help and advise as we may.”
Thalia caught her mother-in-law’s eye. “Thank you, Isaura. Kane. We appreciate that.”
Rafe, feeling like a battle had just been fought and won in the sitting room, sank back into his own loveseat with a heavy sigh.
This was the calm before the storm.
They all knew it.
They just didn’t know what that storm could signify.
****
Theo
“Are you ready?”
Thalia looked up at him, a wary smile on her lips. “No.”
Despite himself, he had to laugh. “Lies,” he retorted, leaning down to k
iss her. Serafina’s small palm connected with her mother’s breast as his moving toward her gave the child access.
Dressed in a long silken tunic, the fabric three times longer than Serafina’s length, she seemed to glow in his arms. He felt as though she were light itself, and that light sometimes blinded him.
This creature was of his blood.
His child. His daughter.
Theirs.
He shuddered as Thalia cuddled into him. Snuggling the baby between them. The moment was so simple, so easy, and in their life, that feeling didn’t come often.
“I don’t want to leave her,” she whispered, and the agony in her voice made his heart sore.
“I don’t either,” he admitted, closing his eyes and pressing his face into his fated’s hair which was loose about her shoulders. “But it is for her safety that we must. I think of that whenever the wretched ache in my soul makes itself known.”
“I feel like I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since she was born,” Thalia murmured. “Why do you think she has to stay here?”
“I know not, dearling. But if Terra has made the suggestion, then it is imperative that we follow her actions to the letter. She knows of things we do not.”
She bit her lip. “Okay.”
It wasn’t okay. They both knew that, but the child in their arms didn’t know she was about to be abandoned and was content to rest between them.
“What if we don’t make it back?” Thalia asked, the question seemingly out of nowhere. But it wasn’t. It was on all their minds. Had been, as Thalia said, ever since Serafina’s birth and the moment she’d revealed the reason for Terra’s visit.
“We will. We have to pray we do.”
“We’re going up against a man so evil he’s got a nickname, and then, if that wasn’t enough, a God. A God of destruction.” She shuddered. “We might not make it back.”
“Then my mother will care for her as though she were her own. She is an odd parent, I know, but she loved me, and she will love our daughter, for she is of my line.”
Thalia peered up at him, teardrops glistening on her lashes. “That’s not fair to your siblings.”
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