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“This way!” Aidan calls, directing a group of shifters to the right, his arm out. “If you’d like to camp, come this way!”

Beside me, Veva is green with nerves, shifting her weight back and forth again and again. She looks lovely today, wearing a pair of long gray overalls, her hair pushed back from her face.

It’s a bright spring day, the scent of lilacs thick in the air. It’s crisp, but not cold, and the flower garden across the street blooms with tulips in planter boxes, shades ranging from ruby red to a deep, cobalt blue.

I’ve just come from a council meeting, in which we ultimately decided that we would use Oren Blacklock to help kill his father—all while keeping a very close eye on him. We’ve had several casters—including Veva—test him and come out with the results that he was telling the truth.

“Hey.” I reach over now, pulling my mate into my side. I breathe in her scent and relish the way she melts into me, letting me comfort her. “Everything is going to work out just fine, okay, love?”

Sarina goes traipsing by, holding a single lamp in her hand, distracting Veva from me.

Today, she’s wearing a little romper from Kira. It’s a soft purple, with a matching hair ribbon. Sarina’s eyes shine brightly, and I think of her pride this morning when she caught her first rabbit, during our first father-daughter hunt.

“Sarina,” Veva says, forgetting my comfort and stepping forward, stopping our daughter in her tracks. “I thought you were going to help Willow move her things?”

“I am!” Sarina insists, holding up the single lamp as her response. “See!”

Dorian has granted all the inhabitants of the Grayhide pack a spot among Ambersky shifters, should they want it. Some of them prefer to camp, so we’ve allotted a space for them just outside of town, while others are overjoyed at the idea of getting their own townhouse or apartment.

“I think you can carry more than a lamp,” Veva frowns, but Willow comes by, holding a single pillow, grinning at us.

“Don’t you worry,” Willow says, “we’re the brains, not the brawns.”

A moment later, a couch comes hovering along the sidewalk, carried by nobody, and Willow and Sarina break out into laughter.

Veva sighs, shaking her head, “I told her to be careful with her magic.”

“Maybe this is her being careful,” I say, trying not to show that I’m impressed. Veva has told me, on multiple occasions, that I shouldn’t look impressed when Sarina messes around with magic, because it only encourages her more.

It’s been six months since her disappearing act, and she hasn’t been able to replant again, despite Beth and Claire working with her and trying to harness the ability. They say that, with time, and as she grows, it will come to her more naturally.

Winter came and went, and after all these months, Veva was able to convince the people and shifters in the encampment to come to Ambersky.

She assured them they would be treated better, and Dorian was convinced by the list of skills—including casting, carpentry, welding, and defense—that the various camp members boasted.

For the winter holidays, I gifted Sarina a ring from my family, one that belonged to my great-aunt. Veva synthesized Amanzite for her to set in the ring, and we watched as Sarina imbued it herself, looking up at her mother for approval.

Veva was proud, but there’s always a lingering sense of worry any time Sarina uses her magic.

I know Veva worries about the strength of Sarina’s power, of her hurting herself by using too much at once. She should only be practicing in a safe room, under the supervision of experienced casters, according to her mother.

This time, Veva gives in, realizing it’s a good idea to move with magic.

Day turns into night as we help move the shifters in, finding their assigned apartments and spaces, helping them find what they need, giving them little tours of town.

I’m just returning with Dorian when we find a huge man named Herold setting up a grill outside his apartment building. To the left, Aidan and another shifter are assembling a massive white screen.

“It’s Friday,” Herold says, grinning at us as he twists the knob and turns the grill to high. “Movie night. I’ll grill up some food, pop up some popcorn, and we’ll hunker down to watch something good.”

Sarina comes dancing over, her hands in the air. “Just wait, Dad,” she says, twirling. “Herold makes the best grill chili you’ve ever had. Mom loves it. Too bad we let that rabbit go, you could have added it in!”

“Nah,” Herold says, “rabbit ain’t in the recipe, kid.”

To my left, Willow laughs and says something, but I’m still buzzing from Sarina’s casual Dad . I swear, I will never get used to hearing it.

After the incident, Veva and I sat her down and had a conversation with her about everything.

She had overheard us that night, but just enough to know we were fighting.

When we explained that I’m her dad, she was surprised, then, oddly, embarrassed.

We went from having an easy rapport to her being somewhat shy around me.

It took about a month, then, one morning, she just walked into the kitchen and said, “Can we have pancakes today, Dad?”

I damn near fell over onto the floor. Veva had sidled up beside me, wrapping her arm around mine and squeezing hard to offer me support. As casually as I could, I answered, “Of course.”

Now, Veva comes walking up, an expression of exhaustion and satisfaction on her face. We’ve been preparing for this—move-in day—for a long time, and she’s put everything onto her plate.

“What are we talking about over here?” Veva asks, grinning, but the grin falls from her face when she looks over and sees Herold stirring a pot on the grill. Frowning, she takes a step back, covering her mouth and nose with her hand.

“Mom?” Sarina asks, but Veva ignores her, turning around and promptly vomiting into a trash can a few steps away.

“Shit.” I move to her, hold her hair, rub her back, until she finally stops and lifts her head, gasping for air. “I thought you loved the chili.”

“I do, normally,” she moans, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth. A second later, she conjures a small paper cup of mouthwash, swishes it, spits it into the trash can, too. “I just don’t know what’s going on with me today. I’ve been feeling so queasy, but the smell of the chili…”

Willow sucks in a breath, and we all turn to look at her. Her eyes are wide and focused on Veva, whose brow wrinkles.

“What?” she asks, rubbing her forearm with her hand.

“It’s just…” Willow pauses, her eyes jumping from mine, to Veva’s, to Sarina’s. “I remember the last time the smell of Herold’s chili made you queasy.”

Willow waggles her eyebrows, but I’m still lost. I turn to Veva just as Herold says, his voice booming, “Oh, that’s right, Veva! When you were carrying that one.”

He points at Sarina, and I finally realize what they’re saying.

I turn to look at Veva, and she turns to look at me. Suddenly, a lot of things click into place, making a whole lot of sense.

Her nausea, the aches and pains she’s had the last few nights. Yesterday, just before we were falling asleep, she told me she had a gut-feeling that everything was about to change, like a new chapter of our lives was about to begin.

Before she can say anything else, I step forward, scooping her into my arms and spinning her, holding her tight.

A baby. My baby.

“Woah,” she laughs, pushing against me until I set her down. She’s trying to play it cool, but I can see the excitement behind her eyes. “Slow down,” she laughs, “I’ll need to make sure, I haven’t even—”

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” I say, unable to keep the grin from my face. “All I know is I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, Veva.”

Her face softens, and she steps into me. I tip her head up, kiss her, savor the feeling of having my mate in my arms.

“Yuck!” Sarina says, breaking us apart. Stepping forward, she grabs one of my hands and one of Veva’s.

“Come on,” she says, tugging us toward the big white screen.

As we move, she turns her head, looking up at the two of us, the smile on her face practically effervescent.

“If I’m going to have a sibling, I need to pick as many movies for movie night as I can. ”

Veva laughs, Sarina finds a movie and slots it into the projector, and food is passed around by the people sitting out on the lawn, the grill chili specifically skipping Veva.

Kira and Dorian arrive, and Aidan tousles with a little shifter pup in the front row. When the movie finally starts, Veva nestles into me on the right, and Sarina leans her head on my arm on the left.

I can’t wait for the rest of my life and movie nights with all my favorite people, my pack, all beneath the clear, amber sky.

*****

THE END