chapter 21
Samantha closed the door to the nursery where her two newborns slept at the same moment the knock sounded on the door to her suite. Aldara called a greeting and Samantha bade her enter. Aldara did so, firmly closing the door behind her.
Samantha noted her sister-in-law’s rigid posture and tight expression. Something was wrong.
“He’s here,” said Aldara without preamble. Her penchant for bluntness struck Samantha like a slap to the face.
She did not need to ask who “he” was. She knew and suddenly it hurt to breathe.
“Here?” She glanced to the door of the room where the twins slept. If her babies followed their usual pattern, they would sleep for at least another hour.
“He asked to speak to you. If you don’t want to see him, I’ll send him away, but...”
She let that sentence hang. But—the children were her brother’s, as well. But—he had a right to know. But—she should at least listen to what Alon had to say.
“Is he here for the twins?” These were her children and she’d fight anyone for them, even him.
“I don’t think he knows of them. May he come in?”
“Where is he?”
Aldara motioned to the closed door. “Just outside.”
Samantha drew herself up to her full height and resisted the strong impulse to shift to her more imposing bear form. But then she could not speak to him. She stared at the closed door, then cast a quick glance to Aldara, nodding once, then immediately returned her attention back to the door.
“Would you like me to stay or go?”
Samantha knew this meeting must be private. She did not want Aldara to witness Alon telling her again that he did not want her or his babies. Well, she wanted them and, contrary to his expectations, she had bore them and lived.
“Leave us, please.”
Aldara opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Samantha heard Aldara speak to her brother. “She’ll see you. Try not to screw this up...again.”
A moment later Alon’s wide shoulders filled the doorway. Her eyes gobbled up the sight of him. Her fingers itched to stroke his strong jaw and dance through the fine, soft hair on his head. His clothing looked as if he’d found them in a Dumpster, baggy jeans, worn hiking boots and a pull-over jacket that stretched tight over his broad chest. He looked tired, she realized, and his expression pinched his handsome face.
The hope that fluttered within her was crushed by his forlorn expression. He seemed like a man about to tackle a very unpleasant task. So her fears were realized. She had become a burden to him.
“Samantha.” He paused to stare at her, his gaze sweeping down her body and then back up once more. Did he mark the increase in her bust? “You’re too thin.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”
He glanced about her bedroom as if looking for the children that she feared he might suspect were here. Could he smell them? She moved to block the nursery door. He sagged then rebounded off the door frame as if he needed the solid structure to propel him forward.
“My mother told me about Blake and Aldara.”
“A little late to join in the festivities.”
“I’m a fool,” he said.
Samantha’s ears perked up. Alon was many things, but never a fool. She had seen him in battle, fearless, powerful, a consummate fighter. She’d never seen him make a mistake. Except about motherhood. He’d been wrong about that.
“I don’t understand.” She took a tentative step in his direction.
“I never meant to hurt you. I only did what I thought was best. I believed you’d be better off without me. I wanted you to be a great healer and a member of the Niyanoka. I didn’t want to be the cause of your banishment.”
“So you made the decision for both of us.”
He bowed his head. “Yes.”
“Alon, you left me without a word. You hurt me, deeply.”
He bowed his head. “At the time, I thought it was best.”
“Did you? It must be wonderful to know what is best for another person without even asking her. Did you really believe that I’d forget you, forget what you mean to me and just find some replacement?”
He met her gaze. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I believed that if I stayed, I would keep you from your true path.”
He still had not said that he wanted her. Only that he was sorry for hurting her. She covered her mouth with one hand to keep herself from speaking, from crying and against the pain that now clawed at the lining of her throat.
“After the battle, Nagi told me I’d never cross the Way of Souls.”
She recoiled at this horrible lie.
He kept going, as if in a rush now to get it all out. “How could I be your soul mate if I had no soul? How could I stay with you, knowing that?”
She stared a moment, taking in this news. Finally she shook her head in flat denial. “Don’t you believe him!”
That brought the flicker of a smile. “My mother came to me a few days ago, to tell me of Aldara’s marriage. She also told me that she saw Ghost Children cross into the Spirit World. I was wrong. Terribly wrong, and I am here to beg your forgiveness. I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted you safe and happy.”
She reached for him and then held herself back. “Alon?”
“Yes?”
“You said you were protecting me. Was that only because of your promise?”
“No.” He extended his open hand, but his expression was bleak. “At first it was obligation, but then I fell in love with you. I have loved you since the day you offered to bury the Delta Pack. I never expected to find a woman who would try to protect me or one who could see in me something other than a monster.”
“You’re no monster!”
Alon smiled. “Still my fierce little defender. But I wonder if you can forgive me. I wonder if you could ever love me or if I have lost your heart through my mistakes. Please tell me it isn’t too late for us.”
His hand lay open and outstretched. She wanted to take it, wanted to believe him. A touch would tell her what he felt.
“Let me stay with you.”
She took his hand. He enfolded her in his arms and kissed her with a sweet tenderness blended with longing. The guilt and sorrow struck her first, but when their mouths met she experienced the sweet longing he still held for her. She gave over to the sensation of their reunion. At last he pulled back, resting his forehead upon hers.
“I have been as the dead these last few months. It nearly killed me to stay away.”
“I wish you hadn’t,” she admitted. “I needed you so much.”
“Can you ever forgive me?”
She rubbed a hand over his broad, muscular back. “In time.”
He captured her hands and dropped to his knees. “Samantha, I love you with all my heart and soul. Will you honor me by becoming my wife?”
She drew a breath, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his emotions and the fluttering hope he held in his heart. She drew back, breaking the contact, for her thoughts were still too private to share.
“No, Alon, not yet.” The look of pain flashed across his face and pierced her heart, but she continued on. “There is something you don’t know.”
He interrupted her. “We could find a way to be together that wouldn’t threaten you. Blake and Aldara have done so. We could, as well.”
She wanted to tell him he had been wrong about that, that she had delivered the twins. That they were perfect and beautiful and mysterious. But she had to tread cautiously. She did not know how Alon would feel about discovering he was suddenly a father.
“I have to show you something first, and then, if you still wish me for your wife, I would be honored.”
She drew him up and he rose, cautious, uncertain as she led him to the closed door to the nursery. She paused with her hand on the knob and stared into his worried blue eyes.
Alon did not like the conditional acceptance. What was behind this door that she believed might change his mind about her? There was nothing, nothing in this world that could make him love her less. So why then was his heart pumping like a piston and his forehead slick with sweat? Had she found another? Was he there beyond that door?
Samantha pushed open the door with caution, as if something might spring at her as she peeked inside. Alon braced for attack, mentally choreographing his moves, including pulling Samantha behind him. His senses rose to alert, but he heard nothing and smelled only powder and clean linen. Then it reached him, the scent of his own kind. The hairs on his neck rose.
He pushed past her to meet this challenger.
“Alon,” Samantha whispered, capturing his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “Quietly.”
If she expected to sneak up on a Ghostling, she did not know his kind. None ever found them sleeping.
Alon stood in the strange small room, sweeping the corners for some threat. His head turned, his eyes darted and he saw nothing, no one.
Samantha pushed in, standing beside him. He remained on alert.
“Where is he?” Alon asked.
“Where is who?”
“The male Ghostling. I have his scent.”
The furniture was odd. The dresser held a small plastic pad upon it, and there was a low rocker, two covered baskets and what seemed to be a topless cage made of wood that sat on wheeled legs. Blankets and bedding filled the little container. Above it hung a series of small fluffy creatures tied on strings.
He did not know what this was or why he could not see his rival. He searched the ceiling for the familiar gray smoke but found nothing.
“What is this place?” he said, now keeping his voice hushed as uncertainty filled him.
“Haven’t you ever seen one like it?” she asked.
Was that amusement in her voice? He glanced toward her and saw her smiling.
“Never.”
She snuggled against him, resting her head upon his shoulder. Clearly she perceived no threat. He allowed her to bring him forward toward the square box with wooden slats along one side and a funny little blanket draped over the other.
“Here they are,” she whispered.
They? Alon followed Samantha’s lead, leaning to peer into the raised box. Inside were two tiny pink babies, sleeping side by side with their hands clasped.
He rocketed upright and backed away. He did not stop until he hit the windowsill. Alon tried and failed to speak and succeeded only in lifting one hand to point at the infants.
Samantha crossed to him. “Alon, breathe. You’re turning purple.”
His mouth gaped like a hooked bass, and finally the air returned to his lungs.
“Babies!” he gasped.
She giggled. “Babies,” she agreed, capturing his raised hand and lacing her fingers into his.
His gaze jumped from the sleeping box to her. She smiled indulgently at him as she stroked his cheek with her free hand.
His head spun. He could swear the floor beneath him heaved, for he had to stagger a step to keep from being tossed to the carpet. Samantha held on, an anchor in his stormy sea.
Fingers of anxiety squeezed his larynx. “Mine?”
But they couldn’t be. They were pink and perfect. She shook her head and he covered his eyes as the truth tore into him. She had found another, had had another the entire time she was with him. Who was he? Where was he? And why had he left her here alone to raise these children?
“Alon, look at me.” She lifted his chin and waited until he opened his eyes. He stared down into the perfection of her face and the lovely dark calm of her eyes. “They’re not yours. They’re ours.”
And he knew it was so, could feel the truth of her words echoing in his heart, but more than that. He perceived her anxiety over his reaction to this news, her hope that he would accept them and her dread that he would not. What was happening here? He released her hands and clasped her shoulders so he could stare at her smiling face.
“Ours?”
She nodded, her sweet, lush mouth curling into a smile as pride beamed in her eyes.
“Yes. Ours. You’re a papa. This was what I had to show you. If you still want to marry me, you will not gain just a wife, but also a family.”
“But how?”
She laughed and patted his hand. “The usual way.”
Her love for him vibrated through him from the point of contact and traveled to his heart.
“But you’re alive. The birth, I don’t understand.”
She snuggled against his side, wrapping her arms about his torso as she rested her head against his chest.
“Helped to have two healers and two Seers and a Ghost Child in the family. Oh, and a midwife, too.”
He looked horrified and she realized what he thought. “Did it hurt?”
“Just the usual amount. A normal C-section and my dad healed me the same day.”
Alon gathered her up in his arms as relief swept through him. It was one of his fears, that she would want babies, babies that he did not dare to give her.
They stood that way a long time and then more questions sprang up in his mind, one after the other, like new green shoots amid a forest blackened by fire.
“What are they?” he asked. “I was born in my fighting form. And I was never pink and...” He stopped himself before he said “weak and helpless.”
She read his thoughts. “They’re not helpless. They can already roll over.”
She clasped his hand and drew him back with her to look at the twins.
“I’m not sure what gifts they have yet. But I know, whatever they are, that they will be wonderful.”
Such complete confidence she had, while he was still drowning in panic.
“What if they attack your family?”
“Don’t be silly. They’re infants.”
He knew better. The yearlings of his kind were as dangerous as hungry tigers. But then he recalled what his mother had said. They had never attacked her or their father. They never killed humans, either. How did they know?
“I could fly at birth,” he said absently, gazing entranced at the two little souls.
“I’ll keep the windows closed.” She giggled and looped an arm about his waist.
“They don’t look like me,” he said. But they smelled like him, he realized.
“Oh, no?” She lifted the closest baby, who woke with an irritated cry and blinked open its eyes. “This is Andrew.”
Samantha rested the infant on her shoulder and cradled the small, fuzzy head as she turned so Alon could see his son’s tiny face. The baby boy blinked open his eyes and stared at Alon.
“This is your papa, Andy.”
Alon gaped in astonishment at the haunting yellow eyes that were so familiar in his kind. But his eyes were that color only when he was in fighting form and never while in human form. The contrast of familiar and unfamiliar increased his anxiety.
“Take him.”
She didn’t give him time to refuse. Suddenly he had a little malleable lump of baby boy molded to his shoulder. He was warm and fragrant, with hair as soft as the belly of a rabbit. Alon’s heart squeezed with joy. He closed his eyes to savor the lightning bolt of emotion that left him full of hope and joy.
“It’s a miracle,” he whispered.
Samantha laughed. “I’m glad you think so. They need feeding every three hours.”
He wondered what they ate. Alon turned to grin at Samantha, still clasping the little bundle. “I love him already.”
Samantha blew out a breath as she nodded. Was that relief? Did she really think he could look at these babies and not want to keep them right here next to his heart?
“I still want to marry you,” he said.
She rested a hand on Andrew’s small back. “Then that is what we shall do.”
Alon swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. That I left you alone—”
He was about to say “alone to give birth,” but she cut him off. “No more of that now. My family was with me.”
You and I will build from here, from this moment and this love.
She never spoke the last part, but he knew her thoughts. How did she know what he was going to say? How had he known what she was going to answer?
And then he recalled what she had once told him about her parents and how they knew they were meant for each other. His parents, too, had this connection, this way of reading thoughts and emotions by a touch.
The soul mate bond, he thought and she nodded.
“Yes.”
Behind her came a tiny huffing sound. She turned and bent over the bedding.
“Let me introduce you to your second son, Ian.” She held up the boy, who kicked his tiny legs and frowned at Alon.
“Ian? But Ghostling twins are always a boy and a girl.”
“Are they? I didn’t get the memo. And these are not only Ghostlings, they are also one-quarter Skinwalker and one-quarter Spirit Child.”
It was so. His children were of all the Halfling races.
“What will they grow to be?” he asked, full of wonder and a hope that was as bright and unfamiliar as sunlight after months of darkness.
“Whatever they grow to be, they will be loved.”
Samantha clasped his waist with one hand and inclined her head for a kiss.
Alon pressed his mouth to hers, tasting again the familiar sweetness. She was his bride, the mother of his children and, as soon as possible, his wife. He drew back to stare down at her.
“I’m the luckiest man in the Living World.”
“And in the next,” she said, snuggling closer.
He could see it now, their future. Raising babies and walking together through the centuries, for he knew that his descendants truly held a place in the Living World. Because of her, Alon now anticipated the years and also the end of years when he and Samantha would walk the Ghost Road and into eternity together.
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