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“Over here. I need to get inside this. Shit!” she cursed as the claw snapped, sending her onto her ass.
Raskyuil peered down at her and stalked over to the twisted branches, his ax lifted high. He brought it down with a sharp thunk, and then another. Each blow shattered wood, sending small chips spraying, and then dark blood joined it as the ax plowed through the meaty, cursed heart that lay within it. The wood was obliterated, nothing more than cracked pieces and a smear of black gore as he lowered his ax and sat down beside her.
Tipping her head back, Maryanne smiled and squinted against the sunlight that poured into the grove. The fog didn’t rise so high up the hill. No wonder Nathiel picked this place. It was beautiful, Not that it in any way changed her decision to get as far from there as fucking possible. The dark blood red leaves hung in twisted clumps from the grove, their ends curling up as each one began to wither and die.
Raskyuil looked over and grunted. “He is now the feast for the mother and her dark-shrouded progeny. May his blood be welcomed back into the earth and not rebuked.” He glanced down at her then, his eyes growing warm. “Are you well, little mate?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m going to be all right until I see them open their eyes,” she said softly, nodding to the kids. “They haven’t moved once. It’s like they’re dead but not.”
Raskyuil grunted. “Do not worry about it. Drya venom is potent, but the effects will start to wear off. My guess is that Nivira had to come here daily to administer new bites to keep them like this. They sleep for now but will wake up soon enough. Just be patient,” he rumbled as he brushed her hair from the side of her face.
She couldn’t seem to look away from the sleeping children. They really did look dead. MaryAnne shivered. “Gods, that’s creepy.”
He chuckled softly and peered down at her. “That didn’t answer my question. How areyou?”
“I don’t know how to answer that either,” she admitted honestly. She looked up at him. “I thought you were dead. He said that a wyrm fucking swallowed you.”
He nodded. “It did.”
She gaped at him. “What the hell do you mean it did? Are you hurt?” she demanded, desperately trying to inspect her mate though he laughed and held her off.
“I am fine. You didn’t let me finish. I was swallowed by a wyrm… as was my ax in my hand.
“Fuck, you’re insane,” she laughed. “But I love you.”
His eyes warmed, a look of bliss softening the hard edges of his face. He was coated in blood, but in her eyes, he was the most beautiful male she’d ever seen. “Say it again,” he rumbled, his fingers curling into her shirt as he dragged her closer.
Her lips pinched together as she felt her heart jump a little with joy. “I love you.”
“Again,” he growled, nuzzling her neck. She was certain that he was smearing blood on her but she didn’t give a fuck.
“I love you,” she whispered as his mouth lined up with her own, his dark eyes filled with so much emotion that it took her breath away.
“And I love you,” he rasped as he closed the little distance remaining between them with a kiss, anointed in the blood of their enemies.
The rest of their lives seemed to begin with that kiss. It took the fae hours to remove all the children from the grove. The carnival didn’t open as Elwyn set his sights on attending to more important tasks, such as the laying out of the Mother’s Feast with a special placement for the Harvest Daughter and the Torn Prince. There was more food than MaryAnne could recall ever eating and her cup never emptied once that evening.
She frequently cast worried glances toward the children but always had someone there to distract her and lift her spirits as the goblins took turns tending to the sleeping little ones. Drinks and food turned to dancing and merriment, and songs traded back and forth with considerable laughter, and something seemed to shift within the carnival. The change was small, barely perceptible, but she hoped it boded well for the people who would remain there.
It took two days for the children to begin to awaken, and MaryAnne was there to see each of them open their eyes. Her children gave her sleepy smiles, their arms reaching for her with eager hugs. Even Sabrina clung to her tightly, though MaryAnne found that she was soon forgotten when the girl first spied Barok. And then celebrated harvest again, filling the children with every bit of food that they could possibly eat as the orcs and goblins sang songs in praise for the Harvest Maiden, drawing the children, reluctantly at first and then quite willingly, into their songs and dances.
MaryAnne settled back into Raskyuil’s arms as she watched them, her mate’s heart thudding behind her ear. Her hand drifted down her stomach, and his fingers twined with hers and their joined hands rested over her belly where their little one safely grew. A smile tugged upon her lips, and she snuggled further into her mate’s embrace.
He nuzzled her, his breath warming her hair as his lips moved the thick curls. “Fi, Fie, Fo, Fum,” he rumbled, and a giggle burst from her.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been listening to the stories the kids have been telling you and are looking to devour me now,” she challenged with a grin.
“What troll in the world wouldn’t wish to eat at his mate’s most succulent table?” he murmured, squeezing her ass.
“So long as you love me for more than my spread,” she teased.
He smirked playfully down at her, adoration shining in his eyes. “Always. We have Ha’shena and love of our hearts between us, little mate. I will never tire of loving all of you for the rest of our considerably long days—and they will be long. Ha’shena will see to it. But I swear to you that we shall never know hunger of the heart. I love you, MaryAnne,” he rasped.
“Take me to our tent and show me,” she whispered, smiling up at him as he grinned down at her in turn.
And so he showed her, and never tired of showing her as she never tired of enthusiastically showering her love upon her mate. Just as it was meant to be.
Epilogue
