Slayer of Demestriu, king of the vampire Horde, eldest and strongest of vampires. When she chose to battle him alone.
Emma raised her eyebrows at the implicit rebuke, and Annika lifted her chin.
Queen to Lachlain, king of the Lykae. Beloved daughter of Helen and all Valkyrie.
"Look at my resume!" Tears spilled over. "I look good on paper!"
Regin groaned. "Not the crying. That's so gross."
"And you left room for more!" She sniffled. Nïx handed her tissues she'd had the foresight to bring, and Emma brushed her face with them.
"Well, of course," Nïx said. "Even if you spend a lazy eternity doing nothing more than wallowing about with your wolf, we left room for your heroic, hell-raising kids."
Emma's face flushed, and she felt Lachlain draping a protective arm over her, squeezing her to his side. Chin up, he said, "We've decided no' to have bairns."
Nïx frowned. "Well, I'm not usually wrong about these things when I do see them, but if you both are so set on it, then never let her eat human food, especially not for back-to-back weeks on end, or she'll get knocked up faster than a rabbit after a Druid fertility ceremony!"
Emma said softly, "But I can't...I'm a vampire, and we can't have children."
Nïx and Annika both frowned. "Of course you can," Nïx said. "You just have to take different nourishment."
When Lachlain still looked unconvinced, Annika said, "Think about it - what do all humans do that not all in the Lore do? They eat of the earth and they spawn. The two are not unrelated."
Her heart thudding, Emma remembered Demestriu talking about Helen sharing meals with him just before she got pregnant. "And a Lykae with a...valkire?"
"Can you have little ankle-biters?" Nïx giggled. "Absolutely, and in the most literal sense. You know, you aren't the first time the different factions have had offspring together." She glanced around as if looking for someone in the manor, then waved it away. "Vampires who can walk in the sun, Lykae who can take sustenance from lightning. Valkyrie who run the forests at night with perfect joy." Nïx got an awed expression on her face. "And they're strong. Just look at you."
Emma glanced from Nïx to Annika. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Annika raised her palms, shaking her head. "I never imagined you thought about this at all, much less that you were under this misimpression."
To Lachlain, Nïx said, "When Emma yearns in her heart for children, it begins. She'll have to eat regular food for at least nine months."
Emma smacked her lips and grimaced, not relishing the thought of masticating.
"Doona hold your breath. I'm no' keen to share her."
"Very well. Until then" - Nïx paused to give him a lascivious grin - "honeymoon!"
Emma and Lachlain sat stunned.
Nïx waved an impatient hand. "All this would have come out during the three hour pre-joining counseling that you two are required to do."
That weekend after Emma and Lachlain's small, straightforward ceremony, and the raucous, bizarre party afterward, the members of the coven lounged in the TV room, sprawled over furniture, eyes glued to the television.
Lachlain and Emma sat among them, but he was restless, unable to watch the movie when Emma was making lazy circles on his palm with her fingertip.
Lachlain had invited only Bowe and Garreth to the festivities, though everyone in the clan hankered to meet the wee queen who'd felled Demestriu. But his kind liked to drink and rib and be boisterous, and he could just see the mad Valkyrie, who didn't drink - anything - reacting poorly. The preternatural versus the natural mixed with liquor.
But Lucia had "gone on walkabout," as the Valkyrie called it, or "fled," as Garreth more accurately termed it, and Lachlain had completely understood when Garreth had set out after her. Bowe had accepted, but after absently congratulating him that night, he'd spent an hour huddled in a corner with Nïx. Afterward, he'd been cryptic and preoccupied and had flown out early.
Casting looks that dared anyone to nay-say him, Wroth had audaciously shown up with a laughing Myst by his side. But the coven seemed to treat Wroth with the same indifference they showed Lachlain, who'd mostly been shrugged at as if he'd always been a fixture. Except for Annika - after she'd spotted Wroth, her chin hadn't been lifted quite so proudly, and Lachlain had heard her mumble, "Furie's going to kill me..."
Lachlain shifted restlessly. He thought he was finally strong enough for them to leave tomorrow. He was physically ready to resume relations with his wife, and wasn't eager to do it under this roof.
He stood and offered his hand, and with a shy smile she slipped her hand in his. As they crossed in front of the screen, they barely dodged a volley of popcorn.
He didn't know where he was taking her, maybe out into the night fog. He just knew he wanted her, needed her, right then. She was too precious to him, too good to be true. When he was inside her, with his arms tight around her, he felt less like she'd slip away.
But they only made it to an empty hall before he pressed her against the wall, cupped her neck, and demanded once again, "You'll stay with me?"
"Always." Her hips arched up to him. "You love me?"
"Always, Emmaline," he grated against her lips. "Always. So damn much you make me mad with it."
When she moaned softly, he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He knew he couldn't have her here, but the reasons why grew hazy with her breaths in his ear.