Page 37

Kross pulled back, his grin wide as he turned to Larena and scooped her off her feet in a hug that made her sputter and gasp. “Our very own Angel of Mothers!” he praised. “Thank you for your gift.”

“What gift?” she demanded, her small frame stiff in his arms, blue-green eyes wide as he set her down. She shoved a bag of clothes against his torso. “Do take these into the hut and put them on immediately before the heavens lose another third of the angels to temptation!”

Kross laughed and clutched the bag, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. Kildare stepped up, his red wings shimmering in his skin, voice warm with amusement. “You imprinted on him from birth, Larena. He’s carried your guardianship since the moment he came into this world.”

Kildare turned to Reuban, his smile widening while Kross hurried toward the hut with the bag. Reuban felt his need to be everything they all hoped for as he went, and his desperation to do it all perfectly staggered his breaths. Dear God, his pure heart was almost too much to bear. As was the fear of what their enemies would do to him if they didn’t protect it.

Krave joined them, his divine winds a faint ripple in the air as he crossed his arms, a smirk playing on his lips. “Kid’s got spirit,” he said, his voice low, open pride in his tone.

Kaos stood a few paces away, his snow-white frame rigid, black hair spilling over his shoulders, eternal gaze fixed on the fire at his feet. He felt Kaos’s emotions—a deep, shadowed longing, and the shared anticipation of Josie’s waking. And something more.

They were all gathered at the fire when the hut’s door creaked open, and Kross emerged looking like a god-level-ninja in black. His shoulder-length hair was exactly like Kaos’s andframed his face. But it was his mother that colored his skin with her life-warming blood.

The whoops and hollers erupted and brought a flush creeping up his neck as he approached. Krave pierced the air with a sharp whistle and Larena gave a sharp laugh.

That shy grin tugging at Kross's lips--that was the stuff heartbreaks were made of.

“Watch out, you’ll light the wrong fire and burn the forest down,” Kildare teased, his voice warm as he laughed.

Krave added, “Yeah, don’t start a blaze we can’t put out, Hot Pants.” His winds rippled playfully, stirring the air around Kross.

Larena crossed her arms, her sea-colored eyes narrowing. “I believe he just wrapped up temptation and put a bow on it,” she said, her voice sharp but tinged with amusement, adding another shade of red to Kross’s face as he joined them at the fire with the fattest grin.

Kaos stepped forward, his galactic gaze locking on Kross. “It’s time to wake your mother.”

All talking stopped as Kaos turned and headed for the hut, his silent force drawing the group to follow.

Dear God.

This was it.

****

A tidal wave of anticipation led the way as they entered the hut behind Kaos. Inside, the dim glow of a single lantern cast soft light across the dirt floor, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and ash.

Everybody gathered around the small cot where Josie lay in perfect form, covered by a wool blanket, her still, pale face a stark contrast to the vibrant woman Reuban remembered. Herdark hair framed her head like a halo, the sight bringing a surge of grief that sent him seeking the strength of Larena's small hand.

Kross stepped forward and Reuban felt the deep love and need to heal and protect his mother. He knelt beside the bed and gently took her hand in his large one. Reuban held his breath when the golden sheen on Kross’s skin shimmered then radiated into Josie’s hand, followed by his soft whisper, "It's time to wake up, Mother."

Her chest hitched with a broken gasp — and Krave’s breath tore free like a drowning man as he collapsed to his knees near the bed.

Her eyes fluttered open, the green of her gaze finding Kross’s. She stared at him for several seconds, brows furrowed as she slowly moved up on her elbows, intently studying him.

“Hello, Mother.”

Josie’s gasp cut sharp, followed by a huge sob and gush of tears. “You’re…” She reached out and stroked his face, her mouth pressed together in agony. “You’re my son?”

He nodded and she sucked in lungful’s of air, pulling him to her with a sob. “How long have I been gone?” she wailed.

“Only eight hours,” he whispered, stroking her head with his hand.

She eased him back, wiping her tears, confused before her gaze froze. "Kaos?” she gasped sharply, panic in her shaking breaths.

Kross moved and Kaos knelt next to her, getting pulled into her sobbing arms. “You’re alive!” she wailed, petting his head then kissing the side of his face over and over. “How?”

“Our son is very powerful, my Queen,” he murmured hotly at her ear.

She reached for Kross again and pulled him into their hug. “He’s so beautiful,” she choked. “Just like his father. Who I love with all that I am!”