Richelle Mead - Shadow Heir

And so, here I was, about to see my children at long last. We were pushing nearly three months since my last visit, and some part of me half expected them to be all grown up and on their way to college. I hadn’t told anyone the news about their paternity. I was keeping that close to my heart, unsure what to do with it. It could have a lot of consequences.

I rented a car and drove out to the country to see Candace and Charles. The little house looked the same, aside from its landscape no longer being dried and burned out. I’d given them a heads-up about my arrival, and they were practically waiting at the door when I arrived. Candace whooped with joy and barreled into me with a huge hug. Even normally reticent Charles embraced me. Evan was with them too, equally welcoming.

Isaac and Ivy were everything I could have hoped for and more. They were bigger but certainly a long way from college. They looked like the kinds of roly-poly babies you see on TV. No more tubes, no more oxygen masks. Just chubby cheeks and curious eyes that were constantly learning something new about the world. Those eyes made me do a double take. They’d been the dark blue of most newborns back in the NICU. Now, they were still bluish, but I could see hints of green coming in—green like Dorian’s. I almost started crying then and there.

“Look how much they’ve grown,” said Candace proudly, putting Isaac in my arms. There were no attempts at gender equality in this household. Isaac was in pajamas decorated with rocket ships. Ivy was in a frilly dress. “The doctors said the early birth might put them behind in developmental milestones, compared to other babies their age. But look—they can practically hold their heads up.”

I’d never thought of holding one’s head up as a milestone, but as Isaac’s little neck muscles fought to accomplish the feat, I saw that it truly was an amazing thing.

“They’re not really behind in anything,” she continued. “The doctors are kind of amazed at how well they’ve turned out.”

Was that the result of gentry blood? Once they passed out of the dangers of early infancy, gentry were remarkably hardy. It was hard to know for sure what was at work here, but I didn’t care. The twins were healthy and happy, which was all that mattered.

They hardly left my arms for the rest of the day. I even stepped up to change diapers because I didn’t want to be apart from them. Everything about them was perfect. Every coo, every toe, every breath. Small talk abounded, but always, the discussion wound back to the twins. No one asked where I’d been. It was obvious the Reeds worshipped everything about Isaac and Ivy, and they never tired of telling me even the smallest details about the twins’ lives. I never tired of hearing about them.

Candace finally convinced me to put them in their cribs later that night. Both had fallen asleep, and she cited some book she’d read about the early stages of infant sleep training. I didn’t follow it all but figured she knew what she was talking about. The twins had matching cribs in a bedroom that had been converted to a full-fledged nursery. There were lambs and rabbits on the walls and pastel colors everywhere.

I stayed there after she left and watched the twins sleep. Every tiny movement enchanted me. I was so caught up that I didn’t hear Evan enter the nursery until he was standing right behind me.

“I’m about to take off for the night,” he said quietly. “I wanted to say good-bye. Will you be around tomorrow?”

“Should be.”

“I’ll come back then.” His kind blue eyes drifted over to Ivy’s sleeping form. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

“Amazing doesn’t even cover it,” I said truthfully.

“What will you do now?” he asked. It was his usual easygoing tone, but there was a trace of worry under it. “Still thinking you might stay here? Or will you take them with you?”

I watched Ivy’s fingers twitch in her sleep and felt an ache in my heart. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought when I came back ... well, I thought I had this all figured out. I thought the danger would be gone, but it turns out maybe not.”

Surprise lit Evan’s features. “If they’re in trouble, you know we’ll do anything to keep them safe.”

“I know,” I said, smiling. “Believe me, I know.”

And that’s where things got difficult. I’d intended to bring them back to Tucson with me. When I’d finally accepted what Kiyo had told me about Dorian, I’d even begun plans for introducing Ivy and Isaac to their Otherworldly heritage. Then ... as time passed, I began to doubt myself. Kiyo’s words came back to me, about how Maiwenn still thought Isaac might be a potential threat. Worse than that were the insinuations that the twins could be at risk simply from those seeking to make a power play against me.

I could almost dismiss that last fear. After all, with the Otherworld still recovering from the blight, conquest wasn’t on many people’s minds. And yet ... I knew enough of gentry nature to know some might think it an acceptable risk to take advantage of weaker kingdoms. I also had the haunting examples from recent times of those I loved being used against me. I’d scoffed at Varia’s attempt to blackmail me for the Iron Crown, but what if she’d held Isaac in her arms when she’d made the threat? What if she’d done that weird mind melting on him? Yielding the Iron Crown’s power to her and helping her conquer kingdoms would have seemed like very unimportant things in that moment.

Dorian’s words came back to me, when I’d lamented about those I cared about being used as hostages: That’s what heartless people do. They prey on those who love.

“I can probably protect them if I take them with me,” I told Evan. “I have lots of ways to keep them safe.” A castle, rings of guards and magic users ... the Otherworld was filled with all sorts of protective means. “But I’m almost certain they’ll be safer here. I also think they’ll have a more normal life here.” Safety, as I’d found with my pregnancy, had come at a cost. Isaac and Ivy would spend childhoods in the Otherworld tailed by guards. Most royalty did. But did I want that? Here, in obscurity, they could run around outside without shadows looking over them. “How do you choose as a mother? How do you choose between ‘probably safe’ and ‘safer’? It’s really only a tiny difference, but ...”

“... but you feel like that tiny bit is crucial,” he finished.

I nodded and sank down into a rocking chair. “It’s hard not to. I really can’t ignore even the tiniest detail when it comes to their safety.”

He put his hands in his jeans and strolled over to lean against the wall near me. “You could visit anytime you want.”

“I know,” I said. I’d taken another convoluted path to get here. That would likely be the norm if I left the twins in Huntsville. Not ideal, but worth it. “These last couple months have been awful, you know. I thought about Isaac and Ivy all the time.”

“Of course you would.”

“I don’t want to go through that again, especially since we’d be talking about a much longer time.” It could be years before I felt they were safe enough to emerge from this retreat. “And yet ... I keep thinking I could make that sacrifice if it’ll help them. It’ll hurt me, no question. And I’ll hate it ... but I can do it. The problem is their father... .”

There it was. After the joy of realizing my children hadn’t been fathered by someone who wanted to kill them, a few realities had set in. Dorian wanted children of his own—wanted them fiercely. Part of me wanted to run to him right now and tell him the good news. He would be ecstatic—beyond ecstatic. It would be a dream come true.

It would also be a dream he would not allow to hide away here in the human world.