“They are.” I brought myself upright. “Tell Cere to stop by here in the morning, aye?”
A short nod as he leaned in to kiss my cheek as well. Unlike Alastair, Heylel was raised with Fae traditions because of his mother Cere. Instead of a quick peck, he dipped his head to let me kiss his forehead. It was a greeting of respect, one we didn’t partake in daily. Today, however, called for a bit more honor than usual in my nephew’s eyes.
He gave a sad smile as he pulled away. That was his usual expression: a smile. Typically, though, it didn’t look as though it was carrying the weight of two dead worlds. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize when you’ve done nothing wrong.” I patted his arm. “Just go get some rest.”
A short nod. When he turned, he greeted Nix with a hug. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to give comfort or receive it, but Nix returned it, as he always did.
By blood, Heylel was Nix’s nephew, but their relationship had always fallen closer to father and son. Heylel had two mothers, Stella and Cere, and he loved them with his whole heart. Lux was his father by blood, but Lux had never lived up to that title.
Nix had. Nix was the manly figure that Heylel was closest to his entire life. Our son, Mirobhail, was only nine years old. Heylel was born a few thousand years earlier, when Nix was yearning for a child. Heylel filled that gap, and Nix filled that fatherly role any child needed.
As they pulled apart, Nix said, “Sunrise, eh? Be here by then?”
“Of course.”
“Sleep well, mil,” I said, waving as he went out the door.
Then Nix and I looked at one another, and our eyes filled with tears. He dropped his bag to the floor, I dropped the canteen I’d been holding, and we practically sprinted into one another’s arms.
The magic of being what we were, souls that had woven as one, was that any time one of us was struggling, a single touch would lift that weight. It was like we fueled ourselves off one another, borrowing strength when we were weak. But after the last few days, we were like houses made of twigs, one strong wind away from tumbling over.
No matter how much I loved his strong arms, they didn’t bring the relief that they usually did.
This time, I didn’t feel like things would get better.
That was the irony about grief though, wasn’t it? They say it comes in waves, that the pain and the heartache would rise up and fall back down for a while. From those I’d lost in the past, I agreed with that.
But this pain was different. It was like someone went deep inside the cavern of my chest, ripped it open, and filled it with culpability and self-hatred.
This time, the grief was for two entire worlds. We had to carry part of the blame for not saving them sooner.
I didn’t know how to cope with that, and it didn’t seem like Nix did either.
“I don’t know what to do,” Nix whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know what to do, Véa.”
All I could do was hold him tighter because I didn’t know either.
CHAPTERNINE
NIX
We slept.
Neither of us stayed asleep, but we tried. I woke up sobbing at one point. Véa did too. We held and soothed one another back to sleep as best we could, but considering we were both fucking disasters, that was far easier said than done.
Before I knew it, the sun was rising, and Véa lay against my chest. I loved that yellow sun pouring in from the open windows, but fuck, it killed me to think I’d never go to Morduaine and gaze upon that blue one in the orange sky while standing in a wildflower coated field again.
The squeal of hinges sounded.
I squinted at the door, meeting four pairs of eyes peeking through the crack. The twins were just past two. They weren’t experts at sneaking yet. I assumed their big brother and sister threatened them into subserviency.
I lifted a finger over my lips and gestured to Véa beside me. Aein did the same, smiling wide.
Carefully, I lifted Véa to her side of the bed and started to my feet. Tiptoeing across the room, they all moved into the hall to let me through. No matter how awful the last few days had been, staring down at those sweet little faces who’d missed me while I was gone melted my heart.
I kneeled and outstretched my arms. At once, they all fell in, looping themselves around my limbs, and hanging on like little monkeys.