“But what—oh. No, sugar, it’s a clanhall, not a castle.”
“Daddy said ‘castle,’” Emma insisted.
She had taken to calling him that almost immediately. A shrink would probably blather on about grieving the parental bond and attachment and whatnot, but Summer figured none of them ever had an alien warrior in co-parenting sessions so what the hell did they know?
“No, he didn’t.” Summer frowned at Ke’lar. “Did you say ‘castle’?”
He gave a sheepish half shrug. “They are not so different.”
Summer shook her head a little at him fondly. “We’ll be at the castle soon, honey.”
She was trying to hide her anxiety from Emma, from Ke’lar too, but the journey was far too short and her stomach clenched when the clanhall came into view.
It didn’t help that the entire Erah enclosure seemed to have turned out for their arrival, standing in grim-faced formal assembly as Ke’lar landed the transport.
Mirak was there too, waiting for them.
As was Ar’ar.
“I will not fail you,” Ke’lar rumbled, meeting her eyes squarely.
Summer’s throat tightened. She was far more worried about him getting hurt.
“I know you won’t.” That was quite a crowd of g’hir waiting for them and this situation was tense enough. She gave a nod. “Okay,” she said, unfastening the safety straps that held her to the seat, then undoing Emma’s. “Let’s go.”
“Is this the castle, Momma?”
“Sure is,” Summer agreed, taking her daughter’s hand. “So we have to mind our manners, okay?”
Ke’lar hit the control to open the door and extend the ramp and the bright light of Hir’s suns filled the transport’s cabin. He went first and every eye was on him until she and Emma emerged behind him.
A ripple ran through the crowd.
Ar’ar, his expression thunderstruck, stepped forward to stare at Summer and Emma beside her.
Standing with Ra’kur and the other Erah clanbrothers on the steps of the clan hall, Jenna’s mouth parted in shocked understanding, her gaze too riveted on Emma.
On the steps near Jenna waited a handful of females as well, possibly all the g’hir women of the Erah enclosure. Two were white-haired, one bent with age, and one was the dark-haired young woman she’d seen before when she and Ke’lar had first arrived at the clanhall, but beside her stood another woman accompanied by—
“Are they the princesses?” Emma said excitedly, her attention fixed, of course, on the two little girls. “Their eyes glow too but they have hair like mine!”
The eldest looked to be about seven, her sister perhaps four or five. Obviously beloved, they stood sedately beside their mother, their rounded, soft faces pink with health as they stared back at Emma. Their hair was blond, like their mother’s, but darker than Emma’s, more gold than white blond, and entirely unlike her daughter these two had hair that was braided and beribboned.
Summer wondered wryly how their mother got the girls to sit still for all that styling when she could barely manage to get Emma to sit still long enough to have her hair combed. Emma wore jean overalls but these girls wore miniature versions of g’hir ladies’ gowns and jewels sparkled on their fingers and throats.
Emma waved. The eldest girl stared but the younger one smiled, showing dainty little fangs, and waved back. Her mother tugged at her hand in silent rebuke and swept Summer’s attire with a disapproving gaze.
I should have worn Jenna’s dress! I look like a goddamn lumberjack.
In fact, realizing she was out in Hir’s spring weather but had dressed for winter in North Carolina in sheepskin boots and a sweater made her want to slap her hand over her eyes.
Ke’lar strode to where his father waited and Summer and Emma followed. Rotin seemed to have aged five years in the short time since Summer had seen the Erah clanfather.
Ke’lar inclined his head to his father. “I have obeyed you and returned.”
“After five days’ absence!” Mirak burst out. “After shameless thievery of my son’s mate!”
Rotin bared his fangs. “This is an Erah matter.”
“Hardly,” Mirak spat.
“This—” Ar’ar began, his throat working. “This is your child, Summer?”
Ke’lar was right next to them but Summer couldn’t help drawing Emma a little closer to her. “Yes.”
He shook his head a little, his glowing amber eyes wide. “Why did you not tell me?”
“Two daughters of the Betari have been kept from their clan by the criminal acts of your son!” Mirak snarled, rounding on Rotin. “And you say this is not our concern?”
“Summer is my mate,” Ke’lar growled. “Emma is my daughter.”