“I didn’t know.” Hen shook his head. “He didn’t know.”
“No. He wasn’t meant to. That’s good, at least.” Marek sighed and fingered a thick golden chain around his neck. “I just—I wanted to say thank you. From me and from the whole family.”
“Especially me,” the woman with him said. She held up the baby, showing it to Hendrik. “And Kassianne. We named her for him.”
Hen flinched and took a step backwards, as if mortally terrified that she was about to hand him the baby. “Ah. Um. Congratulations to you both. She’s—a baby.”
Dagan laughed, which got him a dirty look from Hen. “She’s beautiful,” he corrected.
Marek and his wife nodded and said their thank yous. Marek said, “We wanted you to see her, though. She was…”
The woman clutched the baby tightly again. “She was supposed to go to the creche and the Complex. They told me almost the moment I became pregnant. She was born last week, though. No one will take our babies to that place ever again.”
“Thank you.” Marek tugged at the gold chain now, as if to pull it over his head.
“No,” Hen said suddenly.
Marek paused. “It was Kass’s. They gave it to us after he…inherited. We thought you might want it.”
Hen shook his head, the knot in his throat bobbing with a hard swallow. “Keep it. For her.” He nodded to the baby. “She should have a piece of him. Of the uncle that set her free.” He settled a hand on his heart, then reached out to tap the baby on its tiny, chubby chin. “Nice to meet you, Kassianne.”
Epilogue: Hendrik
Black Walnut Grove Conservancy, Hunter’s Moon Waxing
“Will they like me?” Hendrik finally asked.
Dagan looked up from his hair, which he’d been combing meticulously for the past half hour at least. Hendrik, who always enjoyed watching him indulge his vanity, had sat quietly and admired the whole time, soaking in his presence as much as the sounds and sensations of the forest around them. The smell of leaves had changed during their absence from a bright, green scent into something fading and almost smoky, and autumn weather nipped at their skin, leaving Hen’s cheeks pink and Dagan’s the most delicious ruddy amber shade. They’d made their little camp in the middle of the Honeybee Conservancy, a half-day’s ride from Black Walnut.
“Will who like you, darling? I’ll fight anyone who doesn’t,” Dagan insisted.
“Your family.” Hen chuckled even though he’d rarely been more serious in his life. A week ago he couldn’t wait to get out of the Stone City, to leave behind everything he’d known for most of his life and dive into a new one, here, far away from them and that. But now he couldn’t help but hesitate. “I don’t think Alonza likes me much.”
“Alonza.” Dagan snorted and tossed his hair over his shoulder. “He’s the butt of family jokes for a reason. They’ll adore you as I do, I promise. I know them.”
“You might be a little biased,” Hen pointed out, though his smile was coming easier now.
“What makes you say that?” Dagan set aside his comb and leaned forward until he was on his hands and knees. His hair slipped forward like a midnight waterfall, trailing down around his hands as he crawled forward. He flicked his gaze upward to meet Hen’s.
Beautiful menace indeed. It was all Hendrik could do to hold still, to wait for him to come. He wanted to watch Dagan move, like a prowling cat, elegant and sharp. He also wanted to tackle him to the ground and kiss him senseless. It was a regular dilemma, and one Hen would never tire of, he was certain. “I think you like me a little too much,” he managed to croak out.
“Do I?” Dagan crawled forward slowly, biting at his bottom lip for a moment. While it was a thoughtful expression on most, on Dagan it was pure seduction; he knew the effect he had, and he was enjoying it. “I don’t think so. I think I like you just enough.”
“Just enough for what?”
“To make you mine, my little someone.” Dagan sat up on his knees and swung one over Hen’s lap, straddling him. Carefully, he settled there, wrapping both arms around Hen’s neck. “Forever.”
“You did that a long time ago,” Hen answered with a chuckle. “Well, it feels like a long time ago. It wasn’t, though, was it?”
Dagan shook his head. “No, my love, it was not. But we finally got to fuck our way through the forest, after all.”
Hen grabbed him by the hips and tugged, so Dagan’s backside scooted up his thighs. Dagan wrapped his legs around him lightly, inner thighs resting against Hen’s hips. Hen had been worried, when he’d first lost the bottom half of his leg, but as it turned out, the loss didn’t interfere with a damn thing, when it came to him and Dagan. Everything else was secondary. “But they will like me, right?” he asked again, just to be sure.
“They will.” Dagan kissed him quickly and pointedly. “Should we stay here a few days? Or we detour to visit the lake and the willow after all. I did promise you a whole moon alone in the forest.”
“No, let’s go in summer,” Hen decided, though the offer was tempting. But they were so close now. “It’s getting too cold to swim. And the willow’s leaves will be off. And I want to meet your people. I just…”
“You’ve had enough of people in general, I know.” Another kiss, this one slower, sweeter. “Say the word, my love, and we will disappear until you’re ready to be seen again.”
The suggestion made Hen’s eyes burn. He kissed Dagan hard, trying to explain the feeling somehow, since words eluded him. He dug his fingers into Dagan’s hips and pulled him as close as he could, then tangled one hand in all that silky hair and tugged. When they had to come up for air, Dagan was gasping a little. Hen said, “Sorry. I wish I could say things to you. But I can’t, so that’s what you get instead.”
“I get to be kissed senseless,” Dagan breathed, eyelashes fluttering. “And then, once you’ve processed the feelings a few days later, I get to be seduced again by words. No, my dearest Hen, I wouldn’t change a thing about how you express yourself.”
Again, Dagan’s bias, but Hen was too grateful for it to complain. “I’m ready to be seen. I promise. I want to know them.”
“Then we’ll be there tomorrow evening,” Dagan said, lips brushing Hen’s, still wet and warm. “Which makes this our last night in the wilds. At least, for the moment. What should we do with it?”
In reply, Hen kissed him again, sliding his hand from the flat of Dagan’s hip around to the back, to cup his ass through soft, form-fitting leather. They had, in fact, used the journey from the Stone City to fuck their way through the forest. To spend every night rolled up in their blankets, the mare snorting softly in the shrubs nearby, the firelight warming bare skin that peeked out, kissing, touching, appreciating. That said, they also had to ride a pony, which was frankly painful on the thighs, and Hendrik, though he was finding his balance again, was nowhere near as confident in his body as he had been. His leg was healing far better than he had a right to hope, no setbacks or unexpected pain (beyond the concept of somehow feeling pain in the part of it that no longer existed, to which Hen was still acclimating). But the rest of him felt uncertain. Tentative. Not so much weak anymore; he was fully on the mend and gaining strength every day. But just strange. As if he needed to relearn himself, his body.
The only time he didn’t experience that sensation of otherness was now, like this, when the two of them were wrapped up together tight. Dagan’s body talked to his, attracted his, fitted his just as it always had. And his only real concern as the City’s walls disappeared behind them, as the canopy overhead filled out and the underbrush grew thick at their feet, was the two of them and what they would do next.
What did it say about him, that he’d left Kajja, Piret, Jak, Kon, Alara, all of them, to deal with the remaking of an entire city and gone gallivanting off into the woods again? Honestly, Hendrik didn’t care. It was all he wanted, all he could imagine ever wanting, and it was his now. For as long as it lasted, he would relish it, worship it, love it. And Dagan.
“You had a thought,” Dagan nibbled at his neck and chuckled in his arms. “I felt you stop breathing, and not in the excited way.”
“I’m not brooding, I promise.”
Another laugh as Dagan sat back to look him in the eye. “No, you’re not, are you? Then what is it?”
