Page 55 of Wedlock (Vampire Bachelor Games #3)

Yin hands me my son the moment I step out of the helicopter, and my eyes swim with tears as I hold him to my chest once more.

He’s wrapped from head to toe in black to protect him from the sun, but I pull back his hood slightly and press my nose to his hair, breathing in deeply of his familiar baby scent.

I wince as he nuzzles me, my too-full breasts now sensitive and overflowing with the need to nourish him.

Yes, I’d had Sophie’s boy with me the past couple of days at the castle, and yes, I’d had to breastfeed him to keep my milk up, but it had felt nothing like the contentment and closeness I feel when feeding my son, and I ache to do so now.

Holding him close, I allow Yin to lead me off the helipad towards a waiting car.

All around us a dense, dark-green forest of coconut palms and tropical plants hums with the sound of insects and birds. The juxtaposition between this and the cold, quiet grounds of the castle couldn’t be more obvious, and I feel a deep sense of relief that I’m so far away from that world now.

It had taken eighteen hours of flying, and I’d switched from a chopper to a light plane, and then another chopper, before I’d finally reached my island destination.

I know I’m going to have to confess my phone calls to Yin once we get settled, and I’m a little nervous about that, but it can’t be helped.

During the first flight, after my call to Eleanor, I’d waxed and waned, argued with myself, berated myself, but eventually phoned Wolf and asked him if I could talk to Falcon.

I could have passed on a message through Wolf, but I just don’t think I could have articulated what Eleanor had told me all that time ago well enough.

And, if I’m honest, I wanted to hear Falcon’s voice one last time.

I know he’s probably going to marry the Princess if Jag can’t find Asumpta or figure out another way to prove his innocence.

It’s one of the main reasons I ran. And just in case he’s no longer himself before too long, I wanted to say goodbye.

Actually, I wanted to say a whole lot of things, but I just didn’t have time, and I also knew I was going expressly against Yin’s instructions by keeping a phone on me.

But I know I’m going to sleep easier knowing I made some effort to redress the mire I’d dumped him in when I’d seen the Queen.

At the very least I’d given him a starting point to ask some questions of Attracta.

At least I’d made the call short, but that wasn’t the only call I’d made.

I also put in a quick call to Mom to tell her I was OK, that I was on the run, and that eventually, one day, I’d come see her.

Her relief at hearing my voice was palpable.

I felt strangely at ease with my decision to call, despite knowing Yin was going to rip me a new asshole when she found out what I’d done.

Still, I had to do it, because if there’s one thing having a baby has shown me, it’s the power of a mother’s love.

I guess I never really appreciated it before, or maybe being childless I’d dismissed it as just ordinary love.

Maybe being a teacher I’d just grown so used to being around children that I thought I knew them as well as their parents, or at the very least, knew how to treat them.

I recall Moms asking if I had children of my own and I’d think; ‘a doctor doesn’t need to get cancer to know how to treat it,’ so I’d flippantly reply something like, ‘yes, two hundred of them a day.’ I know now that my view then was woefully ignorant.

I’d resented their insinuation that being a parent would make me a better teacher, but they were right.

I have a new perspective now, and a new level of respect for mothers.

I could hardly keep my own in the dark, worrying how I was.

I had to phone. Still, I’m not totally reckless.

I’d dumped the phone in the first small airport bin I’d found.

The next flight seemed to go forever, and then I’d switched to the last helicopter. From the length of that flight I’m pretty confident no one will be able to track me to my final destination from my phone calls, even if they had the technology to do so. But Yin won’t be happy about it.

Now, as we near the car, Yin turns to me and I reach out with one arm and draw her close.

“I could have killed you for staying as long as you did,” she whispers against my neck.

“You’ll have to get in line,” I choke, squeezing her tightly.

We both laugh a little, but her eyes are blurry too when she finally steps back.

“There’s someone else I’d like you to meet,” she says gently as she opens the car door and points to a second baby seat.

I can’t help but cry out as I hand my boy to Yin and stumble towards my daughter.