Lahn offering me the greatest gift I’d ever received, more than once, his spirit.
Lahn telling me he was pleased my heart guided me back to him.
And Lahn telling me last night he couldn’t have dreamed a better me.
And as each memory shimmered in my brain, I watched in stunned silence as a new blossom sprouted out of nothing and bloomed in a flash of color somewhere along the bank.
Except for the memories of Lahn giving me his spirit and the last of him telling me I was better than a dream, both of which caused dozens of flowers to explode and grace the banks with astonishing vibrancy.
Holy shit. I totally had magic.
And it wasn’t noble.
It was awesome and it was freaking beautiful.
The eyes of those sharing this turned to me in wonder and Lahn’s arms gave me a squeeze as he murmured over my head, “My wife thinks happy thoughts.”
Yes. He was right, I did.
I… so… freaking… did.
And I did because I was in love with a savage, warrior king and I knew straight to my soul that he loved me.
My arms crossed over his hand at my belly and stared at the beauty I created.
That made me happy too.
And I smiled when a bloom burst to life at that thought.
Lahn chuckled.
He was happy too.
Another bloom burst open.
Freaking cool!
“Loolah,” I heard the tired mew and twisted my head to look around Lahn and my bodies to see Gaal emerging from the tent she shared with all the girls, Ghost padding toward us, still blinking sleep from her beautiful blue eyes and I noticed with the weeks passing, my cub was becoming less of a cub and growing into a tigress.
“Poyah, kah teenkah lahnahsahna,” I called to her, she made it to us, bumped her head against Lahn and my legs then her booty collapsed and she sat leaning against them.
Lahn’s arms gave me another squeeze and I knew another bloom had opened but I was looking down at Ghost and didn’t see it.
One of my hands twisted so I could wrap my fingers around his at my belly.
Then I whispered, “I love you, my Lahn,” and heard the swift hiss of his intake of breath.
Then he buried his face in my neck and whispered back, “Loot kay hansahnalay na, my Circe.” And I love you, my Circe.
At his words, the banks of the creek burst forth in a riot of blooms, so many, no bank could be seen as one blossom crowded the next.
And that was when I knew, I loved my father, I loved my friends, I had a good life at home in Seattle and I was happy there.
But nowhere near as happy as I was here.
And I was never going back.
* * * * *