Ryan
“Come on, girl. You liked me yesterday.” I hike Lexa up and set her on my shoulder so her legs are around the back of my neck, my arm bent and extended so I press my hand against her back. She immediately fists my hair and stops wailing, her sad sniffling turning to quiet excitement. A small giggle leaves her lips as we pass one of the ceiling height windows in the hallway I’ve been walking her up and down for the past thirty minutes.
Aviva would tell me this is dangerous to do with her at only four months old, but I can’t help it. Tossing this baby around is getting her ready to wrestle, which is what I often tell my wife before she stops my fun, but right now, we’re completely alone.
I turn a corner, find another hallway, and walk down it with no plan nor destination in sight. In fact, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to be doing right now other than keeping Lexa happy, and currently, the only thing that’s going to make her happy is Aviva.
We pass a huge mirror, and I backtrack, turning so Lexa can see our reflection. She stares owl-eyed at herself, her deep-blue eyes round and wondrous and her mouth forming a perfect O, but then she looks down at me and remembers I’m not her mother.
Her tiny, perfect face twists with grief, giant tears falling from her eyes. She wails, the sound bouncing from one end of the hallway to the other, and I have no choice but to swing her back against my chest to try to comfort her.
“She’s not gone forever, I promise. It’s just a meeting,” I grumble, patting her back. Lexa thinks otherwise, but thankfully a familiar face pokes her head out of a door at the end of the hallway and relief rushes through me. “Thank the Goddess.”
“What are you doing to that poor baby?” Kenna laughs, beckoning me toward her.
“I’m just not Aviva,” I reply matter-of-factly, following Kenna into one of the numerous sitting rooms scattered around the castle. This space, however, seems to have been totally dedicated to her kids.
The walls are a soft yellow against the spray of morning sunlight drifting through the curtains. A mural of a rainbow and mountains made of crystals spreads across the far wall. Pictures painted by Brie and Aris hang from the walls with pieces of tape, and between two couches, a sea of toys and books fans out.
I carefully pick my way across the carpet while Brie and Aris squeal, running between my legs. Kenna scoops Lexa out of my arms and sits on one of the couches, skillfully cradling my daughter and soothing her. “Is she hungry, maybe?”
“No,” I sigh, picking up Aris and tossing him into a giant pile of pillows and cushions in the corner of the room. I wait for him to roll out of the way before tossing Brie in the same fashion. “Aviva left some milk. I gave her a bottle, but she wasn’t happy it was me feeding her, not her mom. I think she just doesn’t like me very much.”
“Oh, Ryan, don’t be ridiculous.” Kenna gives Lexa a loving smile, wiping the baby’s tears away with her thumb. “I’m sure she loves you.”
“You don’t sound so convinced, either,” I grumble, glancing at the kids–who’ve already grown bored of our game and moved onto something else–before sitting down.
“Look, it’s perfectly normal for a baby to favor their mother’s at this age. She’s just a little thing, and she was in Aviva’s belly longer than she’s been out here, with us. As she gets older, she’ll… start enjoying your company more.”
I stare at Kenna for a moment before rolling my eyes.
“What?” she laughs as Maeve toddles over to us, sucking her thumb. Maeve looks between us and narrows her eyes at Lexa, obviously upset about the fact there’s another baby in her mom’s lap.
Maeve is a… strange little thing, honestly. I call Kenna and Evander’s kids my nieces and nephews even though, technically, they’re my cousins. I’m Uncle Ryan regardless in their eyes, and while Brie and Aris are easy to read and excitable, there’s something different about Maeve. It’s like a wise old owl took the body of an almost two-year-old toddler.
Maeve doesn’t laugh much. She glares–like a cat. She watches, and waits, and tends to bully her siblings. Kenna says it’s normal toddler behavior to want to be the boss, to wreck toys and topple carefully built towers but Maeve… nah, she’s weird. I like her, but she scares me a little.
I pat the couch anyway, saying, “Get over here, Maeve. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Maeve rolls her eyes and walks away.
I glance at Kenna, who purses her lips and watches her youngest child kneel in front of a stack of children’s books.
“So, two kids want nothing to do with me,” I try to joke, but I notice the unease in Kenna’s eyes. “Kenna?”
“Don’t take it personally. Maeve has been… she’s been a little unpredictable lately.”
“She still pulling disappearing acts on you guys?” I ask, leaning back.
Kenna shakes her head, “No, thank the Goddess, she hasn’t. Her flames haven’t been an issue, either, but we have help in Veiled Valley now. Two witches, actually, who act as her nannies.” Kenna sighs. “I know you’re going through it with Lexa favoring Aviva over you right now, but Maeve doesn’t like any of us.”
“That’s not true,” I laugh. “Come on, Ken–”
“She’s different, Ryan. You know that. She’s full-blooded Firestone. She’s not a shifter. She’s a witch but, even then… she’s not. I know that doesn’t make sense, but the Firestone people were something else entirely, and she’s the only one like her. I think she’s starting to understand that, and it breaks my heart.”
“She’s not even two,” I remind her. “She can’t be going through an existential crisis already.”
“It’s gotta be some new power emerging.” Kenna sighs, shaking her head. “Just like we can sense things–sense things about our mates, our family… she can sense that she’s alone, and it’s killing us. She loves being in my mom’s presence, and for some reason, does remarkably well with Maddy–your mom. With Evander being gone more, and me being needed in Veiled Valley more often… we’re not in Moonrise very much lately and it… it’s hard on Maeve. I don’t know how to help her.”
Maeve appears at my side, climbing onto the couch. She sits beside me and opens a book but doesn’t thrust it into my lap, wanting me to read it. She just sits there, sucking her thumb.
“I’m… I’m in the position where I need to give up my midwifery practice here in Moonrise,” Kenna says under her breath, rising with Lexa in her arms. She lays my daughter in my lap before settling on the opposite couch, neatly crossing her legs.
“Why would you stop practicing midwifery?” I ask, snuggling an almost asleep Lexa close.
“Because I’m the Alpha of Veiled Valley, and my mate is one of my father’s most dedicated commanders… and the war showed my dad and your dad the cracks in the foundation of our allied kingdoms. They can’t allow something like that to happen again which means more paws on the ground–more outposts, more training… bigger armies in general. Evander is going to be traveling often over the next year, based on what Dad has planned, and I… I have to go home, to our people, to our territory. I’m just a princess in Moonrise. I have to go be an Alpha now.”
She looks down at her lap, picking at her freshly manicured nails. She does look the part of an Alpha all of the sudden. Normally, Kenna’s dressed well but somewhat plainly. Her fingers are scrubbed clean and raw from countless hours acting as a midwife, her hair always braided back and away from her face. Now, she’s dressed in the typical free-flowing fashions of Veiled Valley and her hair is loose and shining as it falls over her shoulders. Her nails are painted, and she’s wearing makeup.
I realize where the conversation is about to go without her needing to confirm it. I reach over to Maeve, gently patting the top of her head. “You’re going to leave her here, aren’t you?”
Kenna’s on the verge of tears. “We don’t know what else to do. She’s alive here. I don’t know how else to explain it. In Veiled Valley she’s… a shell of the girl we know and love. She’s sad, closed off, sometimes inconsolable. Here in Moonrise, she’s… she’s whole. It’s where she’s supposed to be, but I’m supposed to be somewhere else–”
“But you’re also the heir to your mother’s title,” I cut in, my heart rate quickening.
Kenna, to my surprise, shakes her head. “No, I’m not. Maeve is. She was born to be the next queen. I’ll never sit on my mother’s throne, and I’m okay with that, for Maeve’s sake.”
“You can’t just leave your kid behind–”
“That’s not what this is at all,” Kenna says, but she’s on the verge of breaking.
Maeve’s watching Kenna, though. She notices her mom’s glimmering eyes and twisted expression and slides off the couch, walking over her. She climbs into Kenna’s lap, and it’s Kenna’s undoing. Silent tears fall from her lashes.
“Ryan, I don’t know what else to do for her. I don’t want her to be miserable. It’s not fair.”
“I think you all need a break,” I say as sharply as I can without alerting the kids to the adult conversation taking place. Brie is a little snitch, as much as I love her, and I don’t want her babbling to Liam and Blake about this when she sees them next. “I think whatever Ryatt needs Evander for can wait a while, at least until the end of the summer, right? What if you came to Silverhide with us? Hell, Cole and Misty are going to spend a few months in the Deadlands. We have room for everybody.”
Kenna wipes her eyes on the back of her hands. “I’ll talk to Evander about it.”
“He’s not going to say no.”
“Well, my dad might!”
“Ryatt is still Ryatt,” I grind out. “Your dad, my uncle. Same guy. He’s all tough on the outside, but if anyone gets how important taking a fucking–sorry–freakin’ breather is, it’s him. Remember the story your mom told us when we were kids about how he didn’t leave Veiled Valley for two years after you were born? After they went through hell and back? Well, we’ve all been to hell recently, and we could use some rest. If you’re serious about having to separate your family, you need this time with her, Kenna. You need to know for sure it’s the right move.”
Kenna gives me a weak smile. Maeve leans against her chest, giving me a strange look as I watch the two of them. I feel like the kid can see right through me, into the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. It sends a shiver up my spine, but I ignore it.
“I’ll talk to Evander,” Kenna echoes, giving me a watery smile. “It might be fun.”
“It will be fun.” I smile, but my eyes land on Maeve again, who smiles back at me, to my surprise.
Evander rather suddenly appears, huffing out a breath as he storms through the doorway. He spots me and breathlessly motions toward me, saying, “Hand me the baby.”
I rise, uneasy gripping my senses. “What?”
“Hand me the baby, and go find your mate,” he says slowly, glancing at Kenna.
“What happened?” Kenna rasps, narrowing her eyes.
I slowly hand Lexa to Evander who cradles her with expert skill, being a father of three, and all. “She’s just been named a commander in your father’s army and… didn’t take it very well.”
“Oh, fuck me,” I groan under my breath. “Where did she go, exactly?”
“Out. Out of the castle, I presume. She said she needed some air and shifted before she could stop herself.”
I look between Kenna and Evander. “I’ll be back. If she gets hungry–”
“She’ll be fine,” Kenna assures me.
I turn toward the door and break into a run.