“What’s this, my love?” Lycus chuckled as Airla bounced on her heels and cast him the brightest beam ever. Her good humor was infectious. She clutched something tiny in her hand, waving it beneath his nose.

“Guess.” She chimed a laugh, so light and sweet.

“Well,” he scratched his jaw and played along, “I don’t think ’tis a rock. Heh?”

“No, it isn’t.” She bit her lip so enticingly, he groaned.

“A vegetable for our supper?”

“No.” She teetered on her feet and he sensed she longed to blurt it out.

Which made him yearn to prolong the game even more. Casting her a mischievous smile, he crossed his arms, pretending to ruminate. “A new pet, perhaps?”

“Indeed not. The crabs are enough.”

He barked a laugh. “A dagger from the Amazons.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Obviously it’s far too small to be that. You’re not even trying.”

“Aye, I am.” He unfolded his arms and squinted at her fisted hand. “A block of cheese.”

She huffed, “Of course not.”

He mimicked her puff. “Well, then, I surrender. What is this most precious treasure you have to share with me, my darling Airla?”

Triumph curving her lips, she inched toward him, revealing her palm.

He surveyed her open hand. At first, he observed nothing. Until he trained on a tiny dot in the center of her hand. “What…is that?”

“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.” She scoffed as he sent her a stern scowl. “Very well, I will tell you. It’s a seed.”

“A seed?” He lifted both brows. Sure, his mate was a Hamadryad. A tree nymph. But what was so bloody exciting about a seed?

His jaw dropped.

His hearts stilled.

The room spun.

Airla’s tinkling laughter rang in his ears.

“When would you like to plant her?”

“Plant. Her,” he stuttered, his focus dropping to his mate’s belly. “I’m so confused right now, nymph.”

She smiled in reassurance and seized his hand, placing it atop her belly. “Our child grows within me, and this is her tree. When she is born, her spirit will emerge from the tree and join with her body. All you need do, my love, is tell me when you’re ready to be a father.”

The air crushed from his lungs. A father.

He shot his gaze to Airla’s. Purest love shone from within her evergreen depths. “Now,” he blathered, “I want her, you, us, together, now.”

She tucked the seed into her skirt pocket and cradled his face in her hands. “It doesn’t happen quite that soon, centaur, but soon enough.” Laughing, she pressed a bubbling kiss to his mouth and dragged him from the room toward the meadow.

Once they reached her tree, she smiled at him. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He gazed at her, his mate, carrying their child, and love overwhelmed his hearts. “I’ve been ready for a century.”

Together, they dropped to their knees and dug aside the soil. She placed the seed on his palm and squeezed his hand in both of hers, then led his hand to the hole. Gulping, he gently planted the seed. Our child.

They scooped the soil over the hole, covering it, and stepped back. Airla plucked a bucket from beside her tree and watered the newly-planted seed.

He wrapped his arm about her waist and they waited, watching, while glowing swirls of illumination circled upward, until finally, one tiny shoot burst through the soil and soared into the air. It grew, until it rested about a foot high. Their tiny sapling.

Around them, the Hamadryades had gathered, too, and a melodious singing drifted through the air.

He slanted his gaze toward his mate and rested his other hand on her belly. “You’ve bestowed me with far more joy than I ever hoped to have, my sweet nymph.”

“The hope and the joy, we gifted each other, my fearsome centaur.” She slid her hand against his cheek and brought his mouth to hers. Her kiss seared his lips, her respirations filling his lungs with the sweetest air he’d ever breathed.

And then he knew for certain. Air didn’t command him.

She did.

* * *