On a Clear Winter Night: An Irin Chronicles Short Story (6 page)

And there she was. Ava barely heard the delighted laughter of Malachi behind her or the happy clapping of Candace. Astrid was grinning and wrapping up Matti when she lifted her and Ava met her daughter’s eyes.

Her little face was scrunched and scowling, but her eyes were fixed on Ava’s face. Deep amber-gold eyes, and a shock of thick black hair. Ava could only shake her head and laugh. There was no more pain, no more exhaustion. She was riding high on adrenaline, magic, and pure joy.

Astrid put the squalling girl on her belly where Geron immediately wiggled closer to his sister. As soon as she felt her twin’s touch, Matti quieted and nestled into him. Both babies turned their little cheeks to Ava’s breast and let out a contented sigh.

“Look at that,” Malachi said.
 

“She found her brother,” Ava said with wonder. “Malachi… she’s never ever been alone. Her whole life, her big brother has been right there.”

“Ava…” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she felt his tears against her skin. “I love you so.”

“I love you, too. I’m sorry I yelled at you. That was rude.”

“I think it was quite understandable, canım.”
 

“Hello,” she whispered to her children. “Look at you. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life. I’m so glad I finally get to see you guys.”

Matti and Geron snuggled closer together, Geron’s arm curled tightly around his little sister’s shoulders.

Malachi let out a long breath and shifted to the side, easing Ava back against the stacked pillows as Astrid helped her finish her labor. It was… not glamorous in the least. And Ava didn’t care a whit. Candace brought a small tub of warm water over so she and Malachi could clean the babies. Ava was relieved when the bustle was finally over, the helpers had all left, and her children were nestled back into bed lying on Ava’s breast as Malachi lay beside them.
 

“Heaven above, Ava, look at them.” His voice was awestruck. “Look at you.”

She couldn’t hold in the laughter. “No cameras. Not allowed.”

His face was luminous. “You have never been more beautiful to me. You are wondrous.”

Ava couldn’t say a word. She pressed her face into the curve of his neck and let him hold her while she cried the happiest tears of her life. Tears of surprise. Wonder. Amazement.
Relief
.

“They’re so beautiful.” She sniffed. “I thought I’d never get them out.”

His chest rumbled with laughter. “I’m so very glad you did.” He reached over and put his hand on Matti’s head. “Matti, my daughter. You will give us trouble, I think, but also much laughter.”

Ava brushed a finger over Geron’s soft cheek. Without a doubt, her little boy—born only minutes ahead of his sister—was the more restful baby. He’d already searched out her breast to nurse, his hand curled around his sister’s small fist. Matti had to be guided to Ava’s breast, but once there, she latched on with gusto.

“I estimate,” Ava said, gently tracing the curve of Matti’s tiny ear, “that we have maybe a half an hour to ourselves before everyone in this house demands entry.”

“I will fight them off if you insist.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t mind. I don’t think I mind anything anymore. I love them so much, Malachi. I never knew I could love anyone like this.”

“Nor did I.”

Sing
, a voice inside her called.

And so she did.

Ava sang ancient songs of love and devotion, covering her children in the magic of the Forgiven. As she sang, their father held them, tracing gold talesm over their bodies with gentle hands, covering them with his protective magic as he kissed and held them both. The bedroom filled with ancient magic and new life. For a few minutes, Ava and Malachi rested, dozing with their children safe between them.

And as predicted, a half an hour later, the crowd descended.

Epilogue

“AHA!”
 

Malachi turned. “What?”

Max stormed over to him, a tissue paper crown adorning his blond head. “You’re the one who stole Matti.”

Malachi shook his head. “I would like to point out that she is, in fact, my daughter. If anyone is stealing her, it’s you and Rhys.”

Max bent down and held out his hand to the tiny girl, who immediately cooed and wrapped her little hand around the giant’s finger. This one, Malachi decided, he would have to watch. She reserved her ornery moments for her mama and
baba
. For her aunties and uncles, she was the picture of innocence.

“She’s just so cute,” Max said. “Rhys and I were pulling Christmas crackers. Every time one exploded, she got the funniest look on her face.”

Ah, his brothers. Teaching his tiny daughter the wonder of explosive devices when she was a week old.

“I am going to show her the Christmas tree,” Malachi said. “Hopefully nothing will explode.”

“And Rhys was going to read her a poem. There was something about the fat man and a bowl of jelly. I don’t understand how anyone that fat could fit down a chimney.”

“It’s a myth, Max.”

“But all myths have roots in reality,” he argued. “So for the Santa Claus myth to develop as it has—”
 

Max shut up when the door to the library cracked open.

Ava asked, “Are you two fighting over the baby again?”

“No,” Max said. “I was trying to understand why the Santa myth requires a very fat man as the central figure.”

She frowned.
 

“And maybe fighting over the baby a little.”

Malachi ignored his brother and walked over to his mate, who looked vastly more refreshed than she had when she’d lain down with their boy. “Hello, canım. Did you and Geron have a nice nap?”

She held out their son. “I did. I’ll trade you. I just fed him. You change him and I’ll feed Matti.”

“It’s a plan.” He kissed the top of her head and took Geron and his full diaper before he handed off Matti. “Be good for Mama.”

Ava took Matti back into their bedroom, and Malachi turned to Max.

“Here.” He held Geron out. “Want this one?”

Max scowled and walked back to the kitchen as Malachi laughed and rocked Geron. “They always disappear when the diaper needs changing, my son.”

Geron smiled, contented and milk-drunk, his little belly swollen. Astrid said the smiles were only gas, but Malachi wondered…

“Never mind,” he said, pulling his face back from the tiny child. “That one was definitely gas. Let’s get a clean diaper for you.”

As they walked down the hallway, Geron stared wide-eyed at the walls. Malachi turned and noticed the ancient spells protecting the house rise to his view beneath the many layers of paint.

“Do you see that already, little scribe?” he whispered. “Someday, you will understand what that means. I will teach you.”

As Malachi walked toward the laundry room where Ava had set up a changing table, he sang a silly melody he remembered his grandmother singing to him when he had been very small. Geron cooed with him, his voice surprisingly strong for a child only a week old. His eyes already saw everything.

Malachi wondered for the thousandth time what it all would mean. His son didn’t only contain the blood of the Forgiven. In his children was mingled the blood of the Fallen
and
the Forgiven. Archangels and enemies. Powers he could barely grasp.

And yet…

Looking into calm grey eyes the exact color of his own, Malachi’s mind and soul were at peace. Who could predict the will of the Creator or the machinations of the heavenly realm? He only knew that these children, these precious treasures, had been given to him and his mate to love and protect. And so he would.

With a clean diaper on his son’s little bum, Malachi laid Geron under the Christmas tree on a soft blanket and stretched out next to him as his baby boy looked up in wonder at the sparkling lights that danced in the dim light and reflected from the brightly painted globes Ava had chosen. Quiet music played from the kitchen as Karen and Bruno prepared dinner for Astrid, Candace, Brooke, and all their guests. It was a crowded house, but a happy one. The first week of his children’s lives had been filled with love and laughter and joy.

He heard the door to the bedroom open and Ava came into the room with Matti in her arms.

She laid their daughter next to her brother and cuddled into Malachi’s other side. He put his arm around his mate, amazed by the fullness of his life. His
reshon
on one side and his children cuddling with one another on the other. Even a year ago, he could not imagine how much happiness one heart could contain.

“Happy Christmas, Ava.”

“Merry Christmas, Malachi.”

“It will be a blessed new year,” he said with wonder.

“I think it already is.”

THE END

December 10, 2015

Dear Readers,

So many of you have written beautiful letters and sent me amazing messages talking about how much the Irin Chronicles has meant to you. And almost every reader wants to know if there will be more written in this fictional world. Hopefully, with this little story, I’ve put that question to rest. Clearly, there are a lot more stories to tell.

While I confess I’ve been taking a much needed break from the series to work on other books, I look forward to coming back to it soon. I can’t tell you which story I’ll be writing first, but I can tell you that most, if not all, of your favorite characters will return in some fashion.
 

Until then, I hope you enjoy this Midwinter story. Many, many thanks to Karina at
Nocturnal Book Reviews
who asked me to write a holiday story for her blog series, which sparked the idea for this short. I hope you enjoyed it. I don’t write much super-happy stuff, especially for these characters, but this seemed appropriate for the holidays. I hope you enjoyed little Matti and Geron’s debut. (And yes. I’m positive they’ll be showing up again, as well.)

Until next time,
 

Elizabeth

Thank you for taking the time to read this book! If you enjoy a book, one of the best things you can do to support an author is to leave an honest review wherever you bought your copy. Thank you for taking the time to let others know what you thought.

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ELIZABETH HUNTER is a contemporary fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance writer. She is a graduate of the University of Houston Honors College and a former English teacher. She once substitute taught a kindergarten class but decided that middle school was far less frightening. Thankfully, people now pay her to write books and eighth graders everywhere rejoice.

She currently lives in Central California with her son, two dogs, many plants, and a sadly empty fish tank. She is the author of the Elemental Mysteries and Elemental World series, the Cambio Springs series, the Irin Chronicles, and other works of fiction.

Also by Elizabeth Hunter

The Irin Chronicles

The Scribe

The Singer

The Secret

On a Clear Winter Night (short story)

The Elemental Mysteries Series

A Hidden Fire

This Same Earth

The Force of Wind

A Fall of Water

Lost Letters & Christmas Lights
 

The Elemental World Series

Building From Ashes

Waterlocked
 

Blood and Sand

The Bronze Blade
 

The Scarlet Deep

Beneath a Waning Moon

The Elemental Legacy Series

Shadows and Gold

Imitation and Alchemy

The Cambio Springs Series

Shifting Dreams

Long Ride Home (short story)

Desert Bound

Five Mornings (short story)

Waking Hearts

Contemporary Romance

The Genius and the Muse

On a Clear Winter Night

Copyright © 2015

Elizabeth Hunter

 
ISBN: 978-1-941674-06-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.