As if summoned by his words, the bay mare shifted, her breathing quickening slightly. The Skellarae moved closer, offering the comfort of her presence.
"What have you found?” Nero’s voice came from the stall door.
The Skellarae mare nickered, and Nero gently greeted both horses with a rub, and his mate with a kiss.
Three nights later, Casteel knelt in the same stall as the bay mare labored through the final stages of birth. Nero crouched beside him, having been roused from sleep by Casteel's urgent summons. The foal emerged in a rush of fluid and membrane—a colt with his mother's gentle eyes but a coat that shimmered between black and gray, catching light like captured moonbeams.
"He's beautiful," Nero breathed, watching as the foal struggled to his feet on impossibly long legs.
The Skellarae blood was unmistakable—the refined head, the arched neck, the way he moved with an otherworldly grace evenminutes after birth. But he had his mother's warmth, nuzzling Casteel's outstretched hand without fear.
The Skellarae mare bent her nose to touch both the colt and the mother, then turned and nuzzled Casteel's shoulder, then walked through the open door of the stall. A moment later they heard her galloping hooves.
"A gift," Casteel whispered, understanding flooding through him.
"What will you call him?" Nero asked, his arm settling around Casteel's shoulders.
Casteel watched the colt take his first tentative steps, and his mother nudge him until he could feed from her.
"Vaylara," Casteel said softly, watching as the colt found his footing and began to nurse. The name felt right on his tongue, carrying with it all the weight of what they'd survived and what lay ahead.
Nero's fingers intertwined with his, warm and steady in the lamplight. "Vaylara," he repeated approvingly. "A new dawn."
The bay mare nickered contentedly, her eyes soft as her foal fed. She had accepted Casteel completely.
"She trusts you," Nero observed, his voice filled with quiet wonder.
Casteel leaned against his mate's shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up with him. "Perhaps she does. Animals sense things we miss." He watched Vaylara’s tail flick as he nursed, already strong despite being barely a bell old. "The Skellarae brought her here for a reason."
"Our future," Nero said eventually, sounding as tired as Casteel, though neither man moved to leave the stall.
Dawn was breaking over the palace walls when they finally returned to their chambers, where River still slept peacefully in the adjoining room. The war had made many orphans, and Casteel felt sure River wouldn’t be an only child for very long.
"Tomorrow, we'll show him the foal," Casteel murmured, settling back into Nero's arms.
"Tomorrow," Nero agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of Casteel's head.
The wolf-soul settled beneath Casteel's skin, finally at peace. Outside, the kingdom waited for its Silver Wolf to guide it through the challenges ahead. But in this moment, surrounded by love and the promise of new beginnings, Casteel allowed himself to simply be a man who had found his way home.
Three Years Later
The salt breeze carriedthe scent of distant kingdoms as Casteel adjusted River’s ceremonial sash for the third time. Their eldest son fidgeted with the formal clothes required for greeting foreign royalty.
"They're not going to eat you, pup," Nero said quietly, his hand settling on River’s shoulder with familiar warmth. At ten years old, the boy had grown tall and lean, his dark hair catching golden highlights in the morning sun. The heart-knife still hung at his belt, though he'd earned his own weapons since those days.
"I know that, Pops," River replied with the exasperated tone of a child who considered himself far too mature for such reassurances. "But King Raz’mar is supposed to be enormous. And His Highness Attiker..." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "They say he's half-dragon."
Casteel exchanged an amused glance with Nero over their son's head. "Maybe so."
The distant sound of ships’ horns echoed across the harbor as the Cadmeeran royal vessel rounded the breakwater. Even at this distance, Casteel could see the crimson and gold banners snapping in the wind, the sleek lines of a ship built for both speed and ceremony.
"Remember," Nero said, his voice taking on the tone he used for important lessons, "Attiker and Raz'mar are our allies. More than that, they're family. The bonds between our kingdoms were forged in blood and trust."
River nodded solemnly, though his eyes remained fixed on the approaching ship. "Because they helped us defeat the Silver Guard remnants in the northern provinces."
"And because along with Rajpur they opened their borders to refugees when the rebuilding began," Casteel added, remembering those first desperate months after Doran's death. The kingdom had teetered on the edge of complete collapse before alliances with neighboring realms had provided the stability needed for recovery.
"Prince Flynn has asister," River added with the true disgust of a little boy.
