Page 30 of Impaled by His Omega Prince (Reluctant Fae Princes #2)
Askara
Askara had taken his duty of caring for the babe seriously. She slept about as well as a newborn should have, according to Pallosar and Kershai at least. Jori didn’t seem worried, but Askara worried so much.
He paced the halls with her every night, soothing her cries. As long as he held her, she quieted easily. It was only a few days after her birth, after all. She slept a lot but woke often.
He found himself by the kitchens that night, babe in one arm, a piece of fruit in the other. The harvest had been plentiful. He took a bite of some fruit he’d never had before, a pear of sorts. As much as he wanted to give Lyrica her first taste, he avoided doing so at Jori’s behest. It was too tempting to want to give her all her first memories.
Askara didn’t need a candle to see in the dark, as moonborne had her blessing, the light in their eyes enough to see the world. Lyrica’s bright eyes opened wide, too, pale-white irises aglow, though she could see little. Pallosar said she’d be near blind the first few months of her life.
The kitchens were close to Stamel’s wing, and from the darkness of the hall, a whisper of voices caught his attention. A quick glance gave Askara a bit of a sight. Stamel stood tall, leaned against the wall, looking down at Seidrik. At first thought, the pose seemed threatening. Askara tensed, ready to say something or intervene but retreated in silence when Stamel tilted Seidrik’s face up before locking him into a rough, messy kiss.
Well, that’s one way to ensure he never had an heir. Good for him, though. Askara buried a huff of laughter in his throat before the couple slipped away. He didn’t need to make them feel awkward. But he did need to grab a pastry for Lumic. So, he did so and managed to tuck it in his robe pocket while seeing to some fresh tallroot milk, using a trick with his thalms to heat it. Lumic loved the stuff.
His journey back upstairs was a long one. It’d seemed so short when he walked down, but with a child in his arms, a weighted pocket with fruit and pastry, and the tankard of hot tallroot, it was cumbersome.
Lumic needed to be up to feed Lyrica, and since it was a middle-of-the-night feeding, it’d be a long one. Making Lumic feed in bed was a recipe for him falling asleep with her in his arms, so bribing Lumic into the nursery with tallroot milk and a pastry was the best he could do.
Delicately, he placed a dozing Lyrica in her bassinet by the window where the moon could see her. She said she enjoyed staring at her new daughter. Moonborne always did better when they could see their goddess. Askara did, at any rate.
He arranged the snack on a side table and made sure a cloth lay on the arm of Lumic’s rocking chair. He refused to do anything other than his utmost best for his mate and child.
He turned from the steaming mug, lit a candle, and strode to their bedchambers to wake Lumic with a kiss and hand up. “Lyrica is hungry, my love. I have you some tallroot milk and a fruit pastry.”
Lumic opened a single pretty green eye and stared up at Askara before rising and yawning. He was still weak on his feet, but shuffled with Askara’s help to the next room over.
“Thank you, Askara. You’re—” Lumic halted in the doorway to the nursery, staring at the dimly lit space where moonlight spilled across the floor.
Three people were in the room that hadn’t been there when he left.
A woman, tall as any he’d ever seen, stood to the left of the bassinet, her skin as dark as night and clothes darker still. Her eyes were pure white, backlit like the moon itself, and freckles dotted her cheeks like stars, white and glowing. Atop her head sat a crown with a crescent ascending from the top, backed with a spokewheel that looked eerily familiar to what Nemiah had made the sigil of the thalmway.
To the right of the bassinet stood a woman as pale as a cloud, her eyes pure fire with hair as white as snow. Her pale lips ticked up at the corners as she stared down at the bassinet.
Between them, a ghostly figure stood, a sun fae woman with long, white hair and empty eyes. The moonlight filtered straight through her, and Askara knew her immediately. He knew the other two, as well.
“Mothers…” Askara hesitated in his step, frozen with confusion and shock. It was so very rare that the goddesses came to earth. And Askara didn’t even know the dead could return, for his born mother stared up from the child to smile at him, the part of her lips a bare shadow as the sun and moon threw their light and shadow through her.
Askara sank to his knees, and Lumic immediately stooped to do so but halted. The moon spoke. You still bleed from birth. A bearer holds the moon in them until the blood abates, so you bow to no one.
Her voice sounded so much better in person, clearer and louder, though her lips didn’t move.
It was nice of you to offer. The sun nodded toward Lumic but turned her attention back to the babe.
Silence stretched and Askara stared upon the glorious forms of their mothers.
Askara’s mother, Lyrica, tugged on the sun’s sleeve and spoke up to her, her voice soundless. In turn, the sun tore her attention away and stared Askara down with a smile.
She wants you to know how very proud of you she is. We all are. Both of you. The sun placed a hand atop Lyrica’s head.
You honor us. Protect your little one, for she is an anchor for us. There is prayer in her thalms and both night and day in her breath. And where she stands will always be holy ground. The moon scooped their babe from the bassinet, holding her up for a kiss to her temple before turning to face Lumic.
He took the babe and smiled down at her, and in the time it took for Askara to watch Lumic fight tears, and glance back, his mothers had gone.
Feel free to make us many more. It wasn’t the goddesses that spoke, and the voice was unfamiliar. Askara glanced over toward Lumic, absolute adoration blossoming in his chest.
Lumic furrowed his brow. “Keep it in your pants. The goddesses themselves coming down couldn’t convince me to have another right now.”