SEVEN YEARS LATER
“Corrigan, if you don’t put him down, you’ll be mucking the stables for a week!” Amelia shouted across the palace play yard they had built a few years ago.
Well, Rennick had it built. It stood inside of the palace walls and was reminiscent of a mini training arena but with lush grass and green ivy climbing its high stone walls. A glass dome covered the top to keep the snow out and the heat in, but tiny openings placed strategically in the stone allowed for enough airflow to keep it from getting stuffy.
Structures made for climbing, swinging, jumping, and other various activities littered the inside. It was what children’s dreams were made of.
Guards stood at the gates day and night to ensure no one snuck in, and before the children entered, someone had to do a perimeter check, but Amelia hadn’t expected anything less from her husband.
Corrigan, their six-year-old daughter, dropped Wren, Finn’s four-year- old son, unceremoniously, and when he hit the ground, he stood on chubby legs and glared at her. He was a miniature version of his father, with dark hair, golden brown skin, and strong features. The only thing he’d inherited from his mother were his aquamarine eyes. He often stayed at the palace while his parents trained with the other warriors.
Corrigan looked like Amelia but with brilliant red hair like Rennick’s mother. Her personality, however, was a direct copy of Rennick’s. Gods help them all.
Rennick burst out of a nearby playhouse with a growl, holding his arms up like a beast. Both kids ran with a mixture of screams and giggles, tugging at Amelia’s heartstrings. He swooped Corrigan into one arm and
Wren into the other, spinning them around as they wiggled and kicked their feet, their laughter bouncing off the walls.
Greta perched atop one of the play structures, watching Rennick and the children. From the time Corrigan was born, the owl could be found perched near wherever she was when outside, keeping watch like her personal guard.
It surprised Amelia that owls lived as long as Greta had, but Callum explained that familiars lived as long as their bonded instead of the normal lifespan of their species. She was glad to hear it, because if Charlie died before her, she would be inconsolable.
Over the years, Charlie had become one of her closest companions who purposefully irritated Rennick. Despite their grumblings about each other, she knew they secretly loved one another. She occasionally caught Rennick leaving Charlie new blankets in his bed when he thought no one was looking.
Charlie zoomed around Rennick and the children, making the kids giggle harder. Something scratched at the bottom of Amelia’s dress, whining for her attention.
She looked down and her face lit up. “Eddy!” Picking up the big-eared fox, she nuzzled the side of his neck. “You better find Birdie and have her put on your coat before Rennick sees.”
She laughed at the memory of Amos admitting that the times Eddy fought against wearing his warm clothes were because he’d begged the fox not to wear them while they were connected. He said it was demeaning.
Rennick had turned ten shades of red and told Amos that Eddy could have died of hypothermia because of his boyish pride, and that the fox would wear his sweaters when in their kingdom. Amos had reluctantly agreed, but conveniently always forgot Eddy’s coats at home.
As if Rennick didn’t have an entire trunk full.
Eddy knowingly licked the side of Amelia’s face and jumped down to find Birdie.
“Uncle Amos and Aunt Clover are here,” Amelia called out as she crossed the large yard.
Charlie’s ears perked up seconds before he darted toward the exit, presumably to find Eddy. Those two were thick as thieves. She asked Charlie if the familiars could speak to each other, and he’d looked at her like she was stupid and walked off. She still didn’t know the answer.
Both kids wiggled until Rennick set them down, and the way Corrigan screamed Amos’s name made Rennick glower after them.
“Don’t worry, love,” Amelia cooed, petting his arm. “She loves you more.”
“Where have you been?” he asked, pulling her close to kiss the top of her head. “I missed you.”
“I was gone for two hours,” she laughed. “I received word back from Fawn. They’ll be here in a fortnight.”
“Can you two separate long enough to tell your favorite brother hello?” a familiar voice grumbled.
Amelia rolled her eyes and turned to her brother. “Don’t be dramatic.”
A three-year-old girl with Amos’s eyes and Clover’s wild blonde hair hid behind his legs. Rennick crouched down and opened his arms with a warm smile. Rose smiled back shyly and ran into his embrace, nuzzling into his chest.
“Hi Uncle Rennick.” She had her mother’s quiet voice and demeanor but wasn’t quite as shy.
Amos’s eyes turned to slits, and Amelia pushed him lightly. “You two are terrible. Your daughters love you more than the other. Happy?”
“No,” they said at the same time.
Rennick stood with Rose in his arms and joined Clover, Corrigan, and Wren by the entrance.
“Have you spoken with Roman?” she asked her brother. Roman was the Tropical King, and one of Amos’ best friends.
The Tropical King and Queen were an anomaly in Eden. Roman’s original mate, Vivian, broke their royal mating bond by secretly marrying another man. That had never happened before, and no one knew what it meant for the Tropical Kingdom’s royal bloodline. When Roman turned twenty-five, the gods granted him a new mate—Violet, Vivian’s twin sister.
“Clover received a letter from Violet last week. Said she’s been really sick since finding out she was pregnant.” He rubbed his jaw and chuckled. “I bet Roman has summoned every healer in Eden to help her and threatened to kill any who failed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why the gods sent you four overprotective mother hens to rule the fae kingdoms at the same time is beyond me. They should have spread you guys out.” Amelia shuddered. “Do you remember how sick I was with Corrigan?”
Amos took a pointed step away from her. “You puked on my shirt when I hugged you.”
“You smelled like cooked ham,” she said defensively. “There is no worse smell than hot meat.”
“For the last time, it wasn’t me who smelled like ham,” he argued, using the same defense he’d been using for six-and-a-half years “It was the ham on the table.”
She lifted a dismissive shoulder. “I didn’t puke until I hugged you.” “You’re impossible.”
She bumped against him. “But you love me.”
“Unfortunately.” He slung an arm around her shoulders, walking them toward the others. “We need to take Rose inside to rest, but we’ll see you tonight at dinner.”
Amos held out his arms and took Rose from Rennick, blowing on her rounded cheek. Amelia hugged Clover and informed her of Fawn’s planned arrival before bidding her goodbye.
“Echo,” Amelia yelled, waving when a familiar head of dark hair popped around the edge of the entrance. “Can you take Amos and Clover to Birdie, please? She’ll show them to their rooms.”
The guard gave her a mock salute, and Amelia mouthed, “Fuck you,”
making them both laugh.
After they’d gone, Rennick shushed the children and cupped a hand behind his ear. “I think I hear a monster.”
The kids screamed and ran off, but Rennick grabbed Corrigan from behind and set her on his shoulders. She squealed and covered his eyes. “I caught the monster!”
He held his hands out, pretending to feel around.
“Mommy, run!” Corrigan shrieked, but it was too late. Rennick’s hand grasped her shoulder.
He gasped in mock horror and set their daughter on the ground. “What do we do if the queen gets caught by the monster? How do we save her?”
“Magic kisses and hugs!” Corrigan bellowed. Amelia squatted down and steadied herself against the onslaught of kisses peppering her cheeks from Corrigan as Wren wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Thank you for saving me,” she said enthusiastically, pressing a hand to her chest.
Rennick leaned down and swept her into his arms. “I think you need one more to be sure. We wouldn’t want a big scary monster to carry you off
to a faraway land.”
He smiled against her lips because they both knew one already had.
