Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Galen, meanwhile, was already pouring mead for everyone except Elena—for whom he poured a glass of milk from the jug Yana had put on the table at Elena’s earlier request. “We must toast this,” he said, his smile as huge as Jessamy’s hug once Naasir had set Elena free.
Trace, suave as always, shook Raphael’s hand, then kissed Elena on the cheek. “Should I pen a poem celebrating your fertility?” he asked with his usual sly humor.
“Do it. Make me a hunter goddess.”
His grin was sharp before he made way for an excited Holly, then Andromeda to hug her tight. “I’d offer to share information about pregnancy but mine wasn’t exactly angelic-normal,” Andi said. “Neither, I think, will yours be.” She squeezed Elena’s hands. “But if you need or want advice on newborns, that I can do.”
“I, for one,” Holly said, “will be using my seamstress and design skills to make your baby tiny cute outfits.” She clapped her hands, no longer a sophisticated CEO but a friend excited for Elena. “Boy or girl, this child is going to be a trendsetter if their Aunt Holly has anything to do with it!”
Venom’s embrace was far warmer than his viper’s eyes would indicate.
Yana was the next to congratulate them, her cheeks wet. “This will set the entire stronghold alight,” she said. “It has been many years since the triplets ran through its halls.”
* * *
* * *
Later, after the initial excitement had died down, Elena and Raphael talked about their plans to relocate to the Refuge for a short period following the birth, but to otherwise raise their child in New York.
While Yana looked worried, Galen’s square-jawed face was contemplative. “I grew up in Titus’s court. It’ll be easy enough until the child is mobile—it’s at that point that you’ll have to decide how much freedom they’ll have to roam.”
“I don’t want our child inside walls,” Elena said, and Raphael knew she was fighting her hyper-protective urges to do so.
It was Jessamy who said, “Walls aren’t necessarily bad things, Ellie. Not when a child doesn’t know quite how to control themselves—that’s why the Refuge has scouts at the borders. Not only to warn us of intruders, but to shoo in any wayward children who get disoriented and manage to fly that far.”
The angelic librarian’s lips twitched. “We all of us well know the biggest culprit—and he wasn’t disoriented, just wanted to go exploring even though he didn’t have the energy or strength for the return journey.”
“I have no idea how Archangel Illium survived to adulthood,” Yana murmured from her seat. “I once saw that child attempting to drag off a war hammer because he needed to bang in a nail for a fort he and Aodhan were building.”
Jessamy shared a speaking look with the other woman. “Oh, Yana, Lady Sharine’s child is surely responsible for most of my wrinkles.”
“And mine.” Yana pointed at the corners of her eyes. “You see?”
“Jessamy is right.” Naasir’s lips kicked up, but his voice held the edge of a growl as he said, “Cubs need boundaries—that paradoxically gives them the freedom to roam in a range that is secure and safe.”
They give us sage advice, Elena-mine. Think not of walls, but of a space akin to a playpen for a winged babe.
She nodded slowly. Honestly, I’m relieved. It’ll give me time to get used to our baby being away from me before I have to set them truly free.
He knew how much she was afraid of getting things wrong and hurting their child. He also knew she wouldn’t. She loved too well. “We can work out the mechanics of it,” he said to the room at large. “Perhaps sound wave fences or another solution akin to them.”
“Invisible but effective.” Galen nodded, his tankard in hand. “I’ll talk to Jason and Dmitri, come up with viable answers.” Eyes as pale as peridot met Raphael’s. “Your babe will be safe, sire. We’ll all work together to ensure it.”
“I never thought otherwise.” Raphael knew his people. “You’ll have a few years regardless.” Angelic infants didn’t begin to fly until around the fifteen-to-eighteen-year mark, the exact age dependent on each child.
Any earlier would be a recipe for disaster.
His heart expanded at the thought of a small child in first flight, their eyes going to Raphael’s in trust that he’d catch them if they fell. As Nadiel had caught Raphael when he first learned to fly—he didn’t remember those times, had been too small, but his father had told him the stories, as Raphael would tell their child.
He couldn’t wait for every step of this journey with the hunter who leaned her head against him just then, while digging her spoon into a bowl of stew that she’d snuck into the kitchen to fetch. Yana, as fussy about caring for her people as Montgomery and Sivya, had followed her in only to shoo her out, then brought Elena not just the stew, but thick slices of fresh crusty bread.