Marianna
The first frost of the season blankets Crescent Falls on the morning twelve ships come into view off the shore of Tarsian.
Josie, Misty’s daughter, is weaving Skye’s hair into two braids by the hearth where Maddy keeps watch, occasionally and discreetly checking the dainty watch on her wrist. I stand near the window, watching golden and red leaves tremble on the trees along the wall of the garden before they sway down to the shimmering, silver grass. The sun rises on Crescent Falls, then Eastonia, on what I know will be a historic day.
We got the news about the ships headed back in our direction a week ago. Since then, every member of the family has been debating next moves. Aviva and Ryan are readying the Deadlands for the arrival of what Maeve said would be approximately three thousand people, including hundreds of children, none of them in good shape. They need food and medicine. Kenna is there now, setting up clinics in Teshka and Endova, preparing to accept the new arrivals before they settle in tent camps being erected in the river valleys that weave throughout the tribal lands, and further north, in Silverhide.
Evander is with his mate. His forces are there to lend a helping hand, organizing what could easily be chaos, while the rest of his men are on those ships, the ones sent the second Maeve got word of Lexa’s location.
Misty and Cole have gone to Serpentia–both to help heal where it’s necessary and Misty to mark the occasion, taking her notes to add to her lifelong research, to close gaps in her knowledge of what happened before and after the original veil fell around Eastonia.
Ella, Ryatt, Soren, and Maeve have gone to the Roguelands first, from what I understand, to gather Soren’s forces–his army of bandits and misfits–and then they will travel to Tarsian, joining Maeve’s royal forces, Evander’s ghosts, and whatever rebels the Alpha of Tarsian is using to guide the missing packs home.
Sarah is in Moonrise, from what I understand, doing something with Blake’s mystics.
My stomach pinches, my chest caving inward just a touch, at the thought of what she’s seeing when she scries.
Josie rises, tucking a lock of deep golden blonde hair behind her ear, and turns to Maddy. “Anyone want coffee?”
Maddy gives her grandchild a soft smile in confirmation that she will, in fact, accept a cup. Josie’s blue eyes meet mine, but I can’t bring myself to even move, let alone speak. She looks so much like her mother and has every beautiful, wistful characteristic I’ve seen in the portraits and pictures of Isla scattered throughout the castle. It’s uncanny, honestly. She just nods, extending a hand to Skye with the silent promise of making her a cup of hot chocolate, and I watch them disappear around a corner.
Only then does Maddy rise and move to my perch near the window, checking her watch once again.
“We should have some news any minute now,” she tells me. I feel her gaze scanning my profile, but my eyes are glued to the trees, to the leaves drifting on a soft, cold breeze.
I took a pregnancy this morning. I’ve been avoiding the truth for almost two months.
The memory of clutching either side of the porcelain sink, bowing my head as reality swept me into oblivion, still stings. It’s a fresh ache that threatens to pull me to my knees every waking second. I should be thrilled. This should be the beginning of something great, a fresh start for all of us.
Yet, I stand here in the early autumn sun, unsure if Blake is on one of those boats, and if he is… if the blood oath he forced on Maeve will prevent him from coming home.
Rapid footsteps echo into the sitting room off the foyer. It's been the favorite gathering place of the family in the weeks since I came here, Blake’s side of the family seeking solace. Isaac speeds into view, shrugging on a wool coat over his pale gray sweater. Maddy stiffens, turning to her mate, her stormy, dark blue eyes wide with concern.
“The first three boats just made it to port in Serpentia,” Isaac rushes out.
“Are you going?”
“No, I’m meeting Sydney at the temple. He’s gathered some Alphas there, and they’re waiting for news of whether he needs to move his forces to the border with Eastonia.” He steps into the sitting room, determination setting his features in shadow. “We’ll wait for more news there. Do you want to come?”
“I’ll stay here with the girls. Don’t worry about us.” She clutches his fingers while he presses a quick kiss to her temple before he pulls away, raising his phone to his ear, and disappears in a gust of pale, opaline mist. “All right then,” she whispers to herself, taking a deep, grounding breath. “It’s happening. They’re home.”
I feel my body moving before my mind registers the change in scenery. The private kitchen meant for the family’s personal use opens up around me, soft white and pale wood finishes closing me in a familiar embrace. Skye sits at the kitchen island holding her mug of hot chocolate, her eyes hazy and distant. I’m sure she feels it in the air–the change coming. With all of her power, it’s been difficult for all of us to remember she’s just a kid, and her understanding of the situation comes with a childlike immaturity. She knows Blake left. She knows he was in danger, that Lexa was in danger. She knows they’re coming home, but everything else?
Does she know that her father might not be the same man he was when he left, or if he is, we may never see him again?
“Here,” Josie says, placing a hot cup of coffee in front of me. I whisper my thanks but can’t bring myself to lift the mug to my lips. I feel like I’m drifting through space and time just waiting for the other shoe to drop, like the entire trajectory of my life could shift at any moment.
I think of the sphere he left behind, the future he painted for me. The boys–the babies I’m likely pregnant with. Skye finding her footing in a world not meant for someone like her, finding peace, finding love. Blake and me growing old together, surrounded by family in that house on that still empty plot of land in Moonrise.
Had it been a lie? A pretty goodbye with a bow on top?
“Do you want to go on a walk?” Josie asks Skye. “We can collect leaves.”
“Why?” Skye asks, dipping her finger in the pile of whipped cream floating on top of her hot chocolate.
Josie shrugs, spooning rainbow sprinkles on top of the cream. “I don’t know. They’re just pretty right now. Maybe we can make something with them to give to Cosette. You know how much she loves your drawings…”
Their conversation fades. Skye and Josie move outside, bundled in coats as they move through the back garden, disappearing behind a row of withering rose bushes.
I can’t see through space and time. I can’t see the bluff where Maeve is standing overlooking the sea, her eyes scanning the boats pulling into the port, the boats waiting their turn. I know she fretted over where these people, these stolen people, would land when they finally arrived. I know she worried over how to move them to the Deadlands where they belong, their ancestral home. She kept her knowledge of what she knew quiet, however. How she knew where they were, what had happened. I can’t see inside her mind now as her powers stretch, looking for one person in particular.
I can’t see the moment when she spots him on the bow of the last ship to arrive, how she moves when her powers sizzle, reaching for his in a silent question that’s been plaguing her for weeks now, maybe even years.
All I can do is imagine.
Can she trust my mate with not only her life, but her kingdom? Is there a future for them both here, two gods living and thriving in peace–neighbors, cousins, and maybe… friends?
Can she allow him to live, or will the blood oath decide for them?
Is he the villain in her narrative or the hero?
A thundering of footsteps echoes through the house. I rise from my chair near the window as Maddy’s voice lifts from the other side of the castle but not in alarm. Blake’s mark on my neck prickles. My heart slows to a crawl. I slowly turn to the kitchen door.
“Where is she?!”
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away, desperately trying to clear my blurred vision when the kitchen door opens with a whoosh, and… and there he is, dressed in a light gray T-shirt and jeans, his dark hair mussed and violet eyes wild, but not with his powers.
They’re wild for me. A yearning, impossible kind of desperation, like our separation had him on his knees for weeks and–it’s over. He’s home.
I have only seconds to react, to take him in, to see the new light shining behind his eyes–life. Our life. The vision he painted into existence–before we collide.
Blake’s hand clasps the back of my neck as he holds me to his chest, gasping a prayer into my hair as we fall to our knees.
Blurred figures linger in the shadows beyond the door when I peak over his shoulder. Maddy rests her hand against her heart, taking a deep breath, then moves onto the patio, where Skye is now sprinting, trying to access the house and her father.
“I’m so sorry,” Blake says against my temple, the words strained and broken, shattering as he draws in a sharp breath. “Gods, Marianna, I am so sorry. I love you. I love–”
I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze, burying my face in the crook of his shoulder, and I let it all go. The anger, the grief, the uncertainty. It floods through me in waves before being drawn back out to depths we’ll never reach again. No, it’s over. He’s here. We made it out.
Skye’s sob cuts through the kitchen. He reaches for her, gathering us together on the floor, pulling her between us. He presses a kiss to her forehead before gathering me back, his fingers tangling in my hair at the base of my skull, and I feel his smile against my cheek, and the tears I don’t think he’s ever allowed himself to shed.
They fall like little diamonds on his cheeks.
He’s not the same man that left Moonrise weeks ago.
He’s the man I fell in love with almost a decade ago.
He’s back. He came back for us.
I take his hand and press it against the soft curve of my lower belly, pulling away long enough to look into his eyes. His eyes… they’re different–softer, more shifter-like than they were before, like he gave something up to be back here with us.
He leans his forehead against mine, closing his eyes as we finally get our happy ending.
“Let's go home,” he whispers. “I want to take you home.”
***
Blake’s fingers graze my hipbones, his body curled around mine in the warm, familiar nest of our bed in his suite. The palace in Moonrise hasn’t changed over the weeks. I haven’t been back since the day Sarah whisked us away before Maeve shut the entire city down after Lexa was taken. The shattered windows were repaired, the glass vacuumed from the carpet. Even the cracks in the plaster are like new, no signs of the carnage that came the morning Blake… went away, finally allowing the voices in his head to speak their truth.
He presses a kiss to my bare shoulder blade, and I melt into the touch, closing my eyes.
We’ve been back for two days now. Two days of… bliss, together, making up for lost time. But that ends a few hours from now.
I roll over to face him, nose to nose. He gathers me close until our bodies are flush, and I map the planes of his face with my fingertips, the sharp curve of his cheekbone, his nose.
“I’m still the same person,” he whispers into the early morning darkness, the moonlight still drifting over the sheets.
“So much has changed.”
He presses his lips to my knuckles, his eyes meeting mine–a cool, but calm, violet. “I want you to come with me to Veiled Valley. I want you to hear… everything. Everything that happened. I want you there.”
I shake my head, tucking his hair, longer than I’ve ever seen it, behind his ear. I’ve been dying to ask several questions, but they stick to the tip of my tongue. I want to know how he’s here, what happened when they broke the blood oath, how he was able to return to me like… this.
“Are your powers gone?”
His lips brush over my cheekbone. “No.”
“Then… how?” I don’t know how to explain it, but I can’t feel his shields anymore. His powers don’t dance around the room. He doesn’t look overcome by voices or visions.
“You,” he says, and it answers every question, every why and how. “Everything I did, everything I made happen, was because of you, for you. That’s what my powers were trying to show me… that I had something to fight for, and I had to.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I laugh, but he steals the words with a kiss.
“It doesn’t have to. It’s done. We have an entire future to look forward to.”
I can’t help myself. “Aren’t you tired of having to look into the future?”
“Not this one.”