“I’m not mad at you, Brighton.”
“Really? You sure you don’t want to rethink that answer?”
His eyes met mine once more. “I don’t need to think about it. I’m not mad. Even when I’m furious with something you’ve done, I’m never angry at you.”
That sounded like it would be good, if a bit confusing, but I had a feeling that whatever he was going to say next might be worse.
“I’m disappointed,” he said, and my shoulders drooped. I was right. That was worse. “I—”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Luce’s arrival. My blood pressure was a little high, which wasn’t exactly surprising. And then others arrived, one after another. Faye. Tink. Fabian. Ren and Ivy. Some fae I recognized but didn’t know their names. Others I wasn’t sure I’d seen before.
There was a lot of disbelief. Not a single person or fae who came through the door could believe or understand why Tanner had done what he did. There were long moments of shocked silence, there were tears, and then Caden reassured everyone that life at Hotel Good Fae would continue, and that things would be rough, but that it would be okay. And as I sat there, listening to how calm he was, how sure he sounded, I didn’t doubt for one second that things would eventually be okay once enough time had passed to move past the shock of Tanner’s betrayal and the grief of his loss that was still to come, no matter what he’d done.
I didn’t think I realized until then that Caden had truly been born to be a leader. I think he even eased Ren’s and Ivy’s concern, which was truly saying something. They left to share the news with Miles.
The whole time, Caden remained at my side. I kept expecting him to leave. I imagined that he needed to make a statement to all the fae at one time, but he didn’t go.
There wasn’t much for me to do as I sat there, other than to replay what’d happened with Tanner over and over and also wonder what it would take for Caden to no longer be disappointed.
If that was even possible.
I had to believe that it was. Like Hotel Good Fae, it would take time. There would be grief. There would be anger, but we had to get past this.
We had to.
Eventually, only Fabian and Tink remained in the room with us. Tink was standing in the corner, leaning against the wall. He’d been quiet through most of this, and I worried about him. He really liked Tanner, and I knew this had to be hitting him hard.
“There is something I can do,” Fabian said after he and Caden discussed what needed to be done and whether what Tanner had said about Neal could be believed. Like me, I didn’t think there was a reason to doubt what Tanner had claimed. Neal wasn’t a problem. For now, at least. “I know you’ll need to speak with the Court, but Tink and I can hold things down here while you make sure Brighton and my future niece or nephew actually get some stress-free rest.”
I opened my mouth.
“We got this.” Tink pushed off the wall, joining Fabian. “Consider these early godfather duties.”
I closed my mouth as Caden frowned at the whole godfather thing. I fully expected him to thank them for the offer but pass. He was King, after all.
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” Caden said.
Slowly, I turned toward him. “But aren’t you needed? Don’t you have to talk to them?”
“I’m needed here more,” he said.
Too afraid to hope that was a positive sign, all I could do was nod. Tink came to my side, then bent and kissed my cheek. “Please get some rest.”
“I will,” I promised, catching his arm as he pulled away. “Are you okay?”
He gave me a small, sad smile. “I will be.”
“It’s a lot.”
“It is.” He slipped free, and then he left with Fabian.
The door closed behind them, and then I was alone with Caden, sitting close but not touching. I was exhausted, but I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. There was too much going on in my head and—
“Tanner was wrong,” Caden stated, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I think there are a lot of things he was wrong about.”
“Yes, but there was something he was very wrong about.” He looked over at me then. “You’re not my weakness.”
My lips parted on a sharp inhale.
His gaze searched mine. “I could sense that you expected me to leave.”
“I…I did. I imagined that they’d want to see you. You’re really good at calming others.”
“They will want to see me, and they will. But like I said, I’m needed here. I know you’re tired. I can sense that too, but there’s something I need to finish telling you.”
Heart rate picking up, I nodded.
“I was disappointed, Brighton. I tried to clarify that, but we got interrupted. We keep getting interrupted,” he said. “It seems like that’s a trend for us.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “It is.”
He lowered his chin, leaning in so that our faces were only a few inches apart. “I was disappointed and overwhelmed. Of all the ways I’d thought to find out I was going to be a father, this wasn’t one of them. It was a lot to process, but what you said earlier? About not wanting to keep making the wrong choices? I agree. What Tanner did is nothing like us, but we both thought we were doing the right thing. I should’ve told you. You should’ve told me. We both messed up.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe again, but this time for an entirely different reason. “We did.”
“I think we’re going to mess up again, sunshine,” he said, and my breath caught at the use of my nickname. “It’s bound to happen, especially since we’re going to be raising a child. I imagine we’re going to mess up a lot with that, too, but you know what that doesn’t change, right?”
I nodded. “That…that we love each other?”
“Right.” He took my face in his hands. “You hold a part of my soul, Brighton. You are my everything. Nothing will change that. Ever.”
A strangled sound left me as I grasped the front of his shirt. “I love you.”
We moved at the same time, and the moment our lips touched, it was like taking the first deep breath of summer air. The kiss was sweet and somehow more powerful than any we’d shared before. Maybe because it was the first kiss we’d shared with nothing hidden between us. Perhaps because it felt like a beginning.
Ending the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine as he slid a hand down my arm, to the curve of my hip and then to my lower stomach. “We are going to have a baby.”
I smiled widely, blinking back tears—happy ones as I placed my hand over his. “We are.”
“I haven’t even thought about having a child, sunshine. But from the moment I learned that you were pregnant, even with everything going on, I knew in that moment that I wanted to be a father.”
“I know the feeling.” I squeezed his hand. “It was a shock, but I knew immediately that I wanted this child.”
“You’ll be a great mother.”
“You think so?”
He pulled back so he could see my face. “I know so. Why would you doubt that?”
“I…I haven’t had any more hallucinations or…breaks in reality. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. And I know you think it will be different for me, but I can’t help but worry. I want to give this child what I didn’t have. I want to be a mother who is always there, and what if…what if I’m not?”
He touched my cheek again. “We have no idea what tomorrow holds, but I can promise you that you’re not alone. If you have more moments or not, I’m here. You have me. Our child will have both of us, no matter what, and we’ve got enough love already for this child that it will be enough. We will give him or her everything they could ever need.” He kissed my forehead. “Besides, I have a feeling this kid is going to be strong. They’ll be able to handle anything.”
I shuddered. “Luce thinks that the child is already strong-willed and determined to live.”
Caden folded his arms around me, gathering me close. �
�I don’t doubt that for one second, not when it’s you who’s carrying this child. I don’t know anyone, human or fae, more strong-willed and determined to live than you.”
I lifted my head, kissing him again, and for the first time in my life, I felt no fear, no anger, and no worry.
Both of us had gone through our own hell to get here. We deserved it. Our child deserved it. All I felt was love.
I was whole.
Epilogue
Caden
Lounging on the plush grass of the enclosed courtyard outside of Hotel Good Fae, I watched my baby girl toddle after Tink. The brownie was, well, brownie-sized at the moment, his translucent wings nearly invisible in the bright, warm sunlight as he zipped up and then dipped down, staying just out of reach of Scorcha’s chubby little fingers. She laughed and shrieked, attempting to jump in hopes of catching Tink, who taunted her by sticking out his tongue and tugging on a half-undone pigtail. With her blond hair and her mother’s eyes, she was a bouncing beam of sunlight.
Scorcha.
My damn heart felt like a fist had taken hold of it and squeezed. Naming our daughter after my sister had been all Brighton’s idea, one that had surprised me, but I’d wholeheartedly supported it the moment I got over the shock. The thoughtfulness behind the gesture still choked me up and didn’t stop amazing me.
I shifted my gaze to the woman behind my baby girl. Every time I saw her, it happened. Every damn time. There was a hitch in my throat, and a sense of wholeness that never failed to render me utterly dumbstruck.
Brighton’s hair was loosely braided, and several golden strands had slipped free, resting against her cheek and the slope of her neck as she caught Scorcha as she stumbled back in her hundredth attempt to catch Tink. Laughing at whatever Tink said to her, Brighton made sure that Scorcha was as stable as possible on her feet and then let go.
Brighton had been worried about what kind of mother she’d be, and I’d been right when I’d told her that I had no doubt she’d be absolutely wonderful. She knew exactly when to catch our daughter and when to let her go.
My gaze swept over her hungrily. Since the temps were expected to rise, she’d donned a gauzy, deep blue dress this morning. One with those silly, little straps I wanted to follow with my fingers, my tongue, and then my teeth. They drove me crazy, especially when they slipped off her shoulders—like now. A bolt of pure, complete, and absolute lust pounded through me. The corner of my lips tipped up as I watched the breeze lift and ruffle the panels of the dress, playing peekaboo with her legs. It reminded me of this morning when I woke, starving for her, and saw the curve of one exposed thigh. Her flesh had looked oh so lonely, peeking out from between the sheets, and I’d been more than happy to reintroduce the lovely expanse of skin to my hand and then my lips. I’d reached the junction of her thighs by the time she woke.
She was the best breakfast I’d ever eaten.
Hell. I could practically taste her on the tip of my tongue right now.
I shifted on the ground, giving myself a little extra room as I counted down the hours to Scorcha’s afternoon nap. I was very, very hungry again.
Seeming to sense my damn near obsessive perusal, Brighton looked over at me. Our gazes connected as I ran the tip of my tongue over my upper lip. Pink flushed her cheeks as she shook her head at me, but I scented the sharp rise of arousal. It reminded me of roses drenched in vanilla, and it was addicting.
At least once a day I found myself wondering how in any world I had gotten so damn lucky. And there were still times when I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t worthy of her, our daughter, and the life we were building together, the future that was waiting for us. My time under the spell of the Winter Queen still followed me into my sleep and invaded the most hidden corners of my mind, but Brighton always found me in those moments. Whether at night, where she chased the nightmares away with sweet kisses, or when I fell into sullen silences and she was there to pull me from the grasp of the darkness. Just like I was there when the nightmare of Aric found her. I always reminded her that she was safe. I’d been right about the breaks in reality. She never had another one, but even if she had, we’d be okay.
We’d be more than okay.
Scorcha let out a squeal of triumph when she caught Tink’s leg. I winced in sympathy. My baby girl had one hell of a grip. Just the other day, she’d grabbed my nose for whatever reason, and I’d thought she was going to yank it right off my face. And considering that with each passing day, her fae strength grew, it seemed plausible.
Tink only laughed and shouted, “You win! You win!”
Letting go of his leg, she clapped happily. “Again! Again!”
Swooping down, Tink kissed the crown of blond hair and then darted out of her reach. “You won’t catch me again.”
“Nuh-uh!” Scorcha did her funny little jerky knee run after Tink that was stopped by a loud, lioness yawn.
“I think she’s going to end up sleeping through the afternoon once it’s her naptime.” Brighton tucked a strand of hair back from her face. “I may end up right with her.”
Not if I had anything to do with that. I planned to make good use of our alone time.
The brownie glanced over at me as his wings beat furiously. “You’re welcome.”
I chuckled. “I owe you one.”
Tink zipped up, narrowly avoiding Scorcha’s grasp as Brighton’s gaze met mine again. I read the unspoken message and nodded in agreement. We really would owe Tink for today. Since he and my brother had taken over the management of Hotel Good Fae, both were busy, and I didn’t think anyone was more surprised than Tink by his dedication to continuing the success of the safe harbor for the fae.
“This is great practice, though,” said Tink. “Since I plan on being the Mary Poppins of brownies.”
“That reminds me. Have Ren and Ivy decided on a name yet?” Brighton asked.
“No,” he answered. “They’re still arguing between two names, and neither will listen to any of my suggestions.”
“Did you suggest they name their son after you?” she asked.
“I did, but you want to know a secret?” Tink hovered far above Scorcha’s head. “I gave them a whole list of names, and one of them was my actual name. They have no idea.”
Brighton’s mouth dropped open.
Shaking my head, I wondered if I should ruin Tink’s day by telling Brighton what his actual name was. But as Brighton attempted to guess what it was, and her eyes narrowed in fond annoyance, I decided that piece of information could be shared at another time.
Glancing over my shoulder at the hotel, it was almost hard to believe just how well Hotel Good Fae was running these days. Things had been a mess after Tanner’s betrayal, with half of the Court considering leaving. If it hadn’t been for Tink and Fabian, I’d have grave concerns about the future of the sanctuary.
Recently, Ren had suggested that we may be experiencing a welcomed lull in the war against the Winter fae, but the truth was, the war for mankind hadn’t really started.
The hotel was invaluable to the survival of the Summer Court. Not just because there were so many expecting females now, who were about to usher in the next generation, or the fact that nearly every room was filled. But because the threat of the Winter fae was still very much a concern, one that would not fade anytime soon.
There were still more Winter fae than Summer. If anything, their attacks had become more violent, commonplace, and senseless. With Aric’s death and the disappearance of Neal, they lacked any true leadership, which was far more dangerous. Numerous Winter fae were doing their best to prove that they were more than capable of stepping up, and that led to even more deaths. Then there was the Devil’s Breath, capable of turning any fae into a monster that needed to be dealt with. Just last week, a youngling had turned and had to be put down. Neal’s disappearance only slowed the supply of the toxic drink. He was still out there, as was the Devil’s Breath, but finally, the Order was working alongside the fae to discover the
source of the supply. There were still Ancients, who I was sure, at this very moment, were plotting how to free Queen Morgana.
And then there was Queen Morgana herself.
While trapped in the Otherworld, she wasn’t exactly the most pressing concern, but she was still alive, and I knew she was still attempting to find a way to open the gateway between the Otherworld and this one. Eventually, she would find a way, and that was when the real war would begin, one that would rapidly spread throughout the human world, involving them whether they liked it or not.
But that war wouldn’t start today.
Focusing on the here and now, I exhaled slowly, heavily. Content despite what we may one day face, I refused to borrow from tomorrow’s problems. No one could live like that.
Not even a King.
So, I watched what was most important to me. Right here, a handful of feet away, was my entire world.
Well, minus the brownie.
Although, his babysitting skills were incomparable.
But Scorcha would one day grow older, no longer just our little princess but the Princess of the Summer Court, and she would become as fierce and brave as her mother. She would be a fighter. The hand that now clutched her mother’s would one day be just as confident holding an iron dagger, clutched in a gloved fist. That, I would make sure of.
And Brighton was…she was and always would be my mortuus—the most beautiful, courageous, strong, clever and kind woman I’d ever known. How much she meant to me could never have been seen as a weakness, and it never would be again. I wouldn’t allow it. If anyone ever tried to use her or our daughter to control or manipulate me, it would be the very last thing they ever did. And it wasn’t just me who would ensure that. I pitied the imbecile who thought Brighton an easy target. She’d always had claws, but with the birth of Scorcha, those claws had sharpened into deadly points. A smile tugged at my lips as Scorcha almost caught Tink once more. Brighton could take care of herself and then some, but if she needed backup, she had me.
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