Page 48

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

"A real madhouse," I muttered to Aiden, who was calmly chopping vegetables for broth. "The boys are having a great time, but it’s a double birth, and I’m a little stressed," I added, trying to sound casual but knowing my adrenaline was showing anyway.

We were in the kitchen at Sariel and Winter’s apartment, and in the living room, just a few steps away, was the inflatable birthing pool they’d set up weeks ago, now filled and warm. The pair of them sat inside, half-submerged, completely focused on breathing and… each other. We were just sort of invisible spectators.

I could feel the special kind of energy circulating around the place—it was a bit euphoric, definitely something intense.

Aiden gave me one of those grins that still melted me, even after four decades together. "Lake, come on," he said, slicing a carrot. "They’re True Mates. Everything’s going to be just fine."

I smiled despite myself, then leaned in and wrapped my arms around him. So many years, and he was still my safe place. My anchor. I sometimes wondered how we had ended up with such a big, messy, beautiful family, but it always came back to this, to us.

His silver eyes twinkled with warmth. He touched my lower back, pressing lightly like he always did when I was tense. "You’re wound up here, and here, and here," he said, grinning as he prodded me. "Don’t worry, babe. We’re about to be grandparents again. At this point, we’re basically professionals."

I laughed, but it caught a little in my chest. "Yeah. But something about this one feels different. Winter… I never expected him to have kids. He even gave off the vibe of ‘keep the diaper monsters away.’ But now? Now I can see how much he wants this. How it’s deep and true in him, how much it means to him."

Aiden kissed me lightly, but his embrace stayed steady. "He’s going to be an amazing dad. Or father. Or… whatever term they go with." He chuckled. "Maybe they’ll use names like Sariel uses for his parents?"

"Yeah. Either way, those babies are gonna be loved," I said, as he pecked my lips before we both headed back into the living room.

The air in there felt thick with anticipation, or even a bit charged. The water in the birthing pool made soft, rhythmic splashes as Winter shifted forward with a contraction. Sariel was right beside him, holding his hand, focused but calm. They were a good team. You could tell they’d been preparing for this, maybe not for the simultaneous part, but for everything else.

"This is definitely happening," Winter said when he spotted me, cheeks flushed, hair stuck to his forehead. His voice was tight but steady.

I moved quickly, dropping to one knee at the edge of the pool. "Can I?"

Winter nodded, already panting through another wave. He didn’t need to speak, I could see the answer in his eyes.

After all the births I’d been through myself, and all the others I’d helped with over the years, my hands knew what they were doing before my brain caught up. I reached out, keeping my touch gentle and practiced. "I can feel the head," I said, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Me too," Sariel gasped, curling forward instinctively. "I can feel it, it’s happening!"

The next contraction came stronger, and this time they both moaned in near-sync, their bodies tensing together. It was surreal to watch, beautiful, a little chaotic, and completely original. They leaned into each other, breathing hard, sweat and water dripping from their temples.

And then, with a quiet splash, it happened. Two perfect babies, born nearly at the exact same moment, sliding into the warm water like little mermaids.

There was a one-breath pause, one of those suspended, stunned seconds where time just stops. Then instinct kicked in.

Winter and Sariel reached out and pulled their babies to their chests, each holding one tiny, squirming bundle. The room filled with the soft sounds of newborn cries and the relieved laughter of their parents.

"Dear Fate," Sariel whispered, blinking back tears as he stared down at his children. "They’re so… they’re so cute."

I leaned in closer, careful not to interrupt the moment. The babies were flushed and scrunched up, skin still a little red and wrinkled, but so alert already, so alive.

"They look like twins," I said, resting a hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. I bent down and pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks. "Congratulations, guys. That was incredible. I’ve never seen a birth like that before, and I’ve seen a lot."

"You’re pioneers," Aiden said from behind me, kneeling down too. I hadn’t even noticed him come in, but of course, he was right there. Always was. He leaned over and gently touched each baby’s head, eyes soft. "They’re beautiful."

Winter glanced at Sariel then, and the look in his eyes made me pause. There was something in it, something open and intimate, the kind of love that comes when you’ve been through hell and made it out together.

"I love you," Winter whispered. "I love you so much, Sariel."

I saw Sariel’s face shift, like a ripple of surprise and joy and disbelief all at once. His eyes filled, and his lips parted, but he didn’t say anything right away. He just leaned in and kissed Winter softly.

Had Winter never said that to him before? Was this the first time?

I felt something stir deep inside me, some kind of deep peace. That moment right there, it was everything. I’d spent so many years worrying about Winter, watching him drift through life, emotionally stranded, like, in a sense, he was always trapped on some deserted island. And now?

My beautiful boy was healed .

Aiden and I stepped back, giving them space, but Winter didn’t seem to mind our presence. He held Sariel and the baby close, and the glow in the room wasn’t just from the soft lighting, it was from them. The four of them, together, their family starting right before our eyes.

And I knew. This. This was the moment.

My son, who for so many years had been stranded on a deserted island, had finally come home.