“Lilah, the blood witch-fae, happened. I was on the brink of death because of her torture to find this place. If Quinn or her cousins wanted to hurt me or worse, they would have and could have by now. But, she didn’t. She never would. And, she never will.”
Everett nodded. “I have no love for hunters, but I have seen it with my own eyes. Quinn could have killed Byrd, but she used her blood to save her and risked her own life in the process.”
“As is the way of a fated mate,” Sire Gale nodded knowingly. “A true fated mate would never let any ill-circumstance befall their mate. It goes against their very nature. They would kill anyone who tries. So, this Quinn and her family are safe here.”
The male dragon-shifter opened his mouth to argue, but she shut him down. “We don’t have time for any of this right now, Neil. We have a real threat to prepare for. Witches and griffin-shifter, come with me and my guards. Neil, contact Keilani so she can allow the hunters here without being so affected by the barrier’s magic. Meet me in my office once you have done so.”
Neil frowned, but he bowed. “Of course, my Sire.”
As he turned with his phone pulled out, Sire Gale turned to where Ayrie and I stood. “Ayrie, dear? Can I trust you to take care of Byrdie, the hunters, and the rest of our guests?”
Ayrie beamed. “It would be my honor, my Sire! We have plenty of catching up to do!”
Then, before I could even take another breath, we collided, our arms thrown around each other, holding on tight like we could squeeze the lost years back into existence. Her body trembled against mine, and mine did the same. Our sobs caught somewhere between laughter and disbelief. There was something about her hug that felt different from Uncle Everett’s or Talli’s or even Simone’s and Maisie’s. They were all my family, but there was a weight to Ayrie’s that just… it touched my soul, going deep into my very essence and DNA. Her embrace alone truly felt like she had opened the door to a house that I had been away from for far too long. It was like her spirit was welcoming me in the way that only family could.
I was back home at last.
Warm Hearth
BYRD
“All of you make yourselves at home!” Ayrie declared as we walked into her house. “Get comfortable! You can take off your boots and coats over here.”
I admired Ayrie’s house while I took off my boots to place them in the foyer’s closet. The large Chicago bungalow’s open-concept felt modern and cozy with gleaming hardwood floors, updated fixtures, soft lighting, and designer touches throughout, giving the space a grounded luxury feel. The living room had rich jewel-toned fabrics, family portraits in gilded frames of various sizes, and a lingering scent of cinnamon, clove, and pine in the air. The couches seemed comfortable based on the sighs of relief that Nat, Cole, and Simone released when they plopped down onto them. The kitchen ahead was just as elegant and customized. Ayrie’s Christmas tree still twinkled in the tall, snow-dusted front windows along with garlands of pine and holly, silver and gold tinsel, and other Christmas decorations mounted throughout the house. A kinara for Kwanzaa with four candles already lit proudly sat on a mkeka mat surrounded by ears of corn and fruit. Their flames cast a soft, sacred glow. It all felt so lived-in, like love had soaked into the walls.
“Your house is beautiful, Ayrie!” I complimented.
“Thank you!” Ayrie smiled, stepping farther into the warm, welcoming living room. “I don’t know if you remember, but it’s my Mama’s! We moved in not long after?—”
A thunderous stampede and loud clatter above us cut Ayrie off.
“Oh, no,” Ayrie muttered, eyes wide as they followed the rapidly moving stomping.
Before any of us could question her further, a tiny blur of brown skin and adorable curls shot down the stairs like a cannonball. A toddler, easily no older than two or three, weaved quickly between us and the furniture.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” He squealed with delight, his arms flailing with wild joy, as he sprinted insanely fast around us. Dragon-shifters usually didn’t have supernatural abilities before they manifested, but if one of their parents were a different kind of shifter, the other creature would fuse with the dragon and encourage some traits to come out. They wouldn’t shift early, but they would have some of their other shifter traits, like speed and strength, appear before puberty. Ayrie and I had grown up with a few dragon-shifters with other shifter parents. Iknewthis baby was too young to have shifted for the first time, but he clearly had the speed and stamina of a shifter of some kind.
Soon, two adults clambered down the stairs in increasingly desperate pursuit of the child. The first was a woman who paused at the bottom of the stairs to catch her breath. My dragon immediately sensed that she was another dragon-shifter, but I instantly knew she was Ayrie’s mother. Even if I didn’t remember her from my childhood, she looked like an older mirror image of my cousin. Tempest, or Auntie Titi as I had always called her growing up, was technically Pops’ cousin that he had grown up with, but all of the young ones called her Auntie. She was tall and striking in her golden beauty withsilver-streaked blonde curls pulled back by a headband. She and Ayrie shared the same proud set in their jaws, bright demeanors, and curvy, tall builds. The only differences in them were the wrinkles around the older woman’s paler brown eyes, how much lighter her skin was than Ayrie’s, and the beauty mark near her mouth.
Gasping for air as she braced herself on the banister, Auntie Titi’s laughter came out as a wheeze. “I’mwaytoo old for this nonsense!”
A very handsome and hulking man rushed down the stairs after the baby. He was even taller than Ayrie at well over 6’5” with dark-brown skin and broad shoulders. He had a sculpted jaw adorned with a full, long, yet trimmed beard. His black hair was shaved close with crisp waves and the sharpest, cleanest line-up I had ever seen. As he passed me, I smelled grass and some variation of dog under his mahogany and sandalwood bodywash, telling me he was a canine shifter. His arms and legs were solid muscle beneath his worn hoodie and sweats, adding to this fun fact. The man looked like he could bench press a car easily.
Yet somehow,somehow, he was getting absolutelydustedby atoddler.
He panted, his hands resting on his knees. The man looked up at Ayrie with a raised eyebrow. “You gonna catchyourson sometime today, babe?”
Son? Oh, my gods, Ayrie is a mom now?!I couldn’t believe it, but it also madesomuch sense. Just like how orange and yellow looked stunning on black and brown women, it felt like the natural order of things. Ayrie had always been built for motherhood. She had a nurturing nature, and she had always found joy in the growth of others. She used to love babysitting our younger cousins and looked forward to being a parent all our lives. It wasn’t a surprise that she had achieved her dream. It wasjust strange seeing life go on in this way after all these years, and it was hard to describe the feeling of it and how disconcerting yet joyous it felt all at once.
Ayrie shook her head. She threw her hands up as she watched the blurring baby. “Oh, when he’s acting likethis? He’syourson, actually, Xan.Youare the one who gave him the coyote-shifter blood.”
“C’mon, Ayrie! He listens to you! Can you help a man out?” The man cried out.
“Isufferedgrowing him for nine months, where he definitely didn’t listen to me.” She shrugged. “He’s not doing anything wrong to me.”
“You beautiful demonic woman,” He smiled, chuckling.
The toddler let out a triumphant shriek of pure, unadulterated glee. The man danced in front of the boy to cut him off. He lunged for the boy, but he missedabysmally. He tumbled to the ground with a crash that sent the coffee table sliding and knocking an end table over. Ayrie used her magic to catch the lamp and Christmas figurines on clouds before they could crash to the floor. She righted the table to replace them there.
