I bounced Bry on my knee, making the baby giggle and coo with happiness. It’d been a week since the ordeal and the boy had rapidly recovered. The markings were gone courtesy of Momma R and now I had one healthy brownie child in my life.

Where he would stay, no matter what others said.

“Caith, you can’t keep the baby.” Momma R’s tone was cajoling and soothing at the same time. The woman had been trying to convince me to hand Bry off to another brownie family for days.

“Amazingly enough,” I tossed Bry in the air with a laugh. “I can.” I caught him and blew a raspberry on his stomach. “I can keep you, can’t I? Yes, I can. Oh, yes I can.”

Bry’s giggles rang through the air, bringing a wide smile to my lips.

“Infans…” Uncle Luc had even joined in on the baby-based intervention. “We are not meant to be parents. Even your mother, Hell love her, did not raise you.”

were not addressing my mommy issues. “Good thing I’m not her, huh? I’m only half of her, Uncle. The rest of me is from five pretty kick ass guys.” I puckered my lips and opened my eyes wide, surprising Bry. “Oops, I said a bad word. You don’t say that, baby boy.”

More laughs and happy wiggles followed.

“Caith,” Papa Eron carefully eased into the seat beside me. “You know I would be thrilled with a child in your life.” I nodded. Finally someone was seeing sense. “But it should be your child. This is not the natural cycle, little flower.”

“It is,” I could out stubborn them all.

“Puppy,” Papa Al murmured as he crouched before me. “This is not your pup. You can have ones of your own.”

Tears overran my eyes, blurring my vision, and I fought against their insistence. I released a rueful chuckle. “With whom?”

Not Sam. The man had been gone for a week. So much for not disappearing again.

Bry, sensing my distress, fussed and whined in my arms.

“Oh, Tempmommy is sorry.” I cuddled him close. “I’m sorry.”

“Tempmommy?” Papa Percy rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. “You named yourself for him?”

“I’m the closest thing he’s got to a mom, but he had a real mother. That will never change.” I brushed my lips across his head. “Will it, sweetheart?”

“Your mate will give you pups. You know this.” Papa Al was gruff. Probably upset by the idea of me having sex.

“What mate?” I pressed my palms to Bry’s ears. “Sam disappeared after he took care of Nettle. He hasn’t shown up, hasn’t called. There have been no smoke signals or telegraphs. Nothing. So no, I don’t think he’ll give me pups, do you? No man’s dick is that long.” I snarled the last bit, rage at Sam breaking through my rant.

Papa Al’s eyes flashed yellow with his glare and then he pushed to his feet, turning his attention to the rest of the room’s occupants. They’d cornered me in the living room, all five of my fathers, my uncle, Momma R, and Jezebeth. My biological mother was there in spirit, Uncle Luc said.

Right.

“Did you know this?” He didn’t direct the question at anyone in particular, but not a single person in the room met his gaze. “How did I not know of this?” he snarled, the wolf rushing forward in full force. One did not anger an alpha. “I thought he was incapable of running away.” Now Papa Al’s attention was on Momma R. “Use his feather and bring him here. Now.”

An order that the alpha would expect to be followed. So not happening.

“Don’t shout orders at her.” Papa Percy jumped into the argument. My father really did seem to care for Momma R.

“When she can take away my daughter’s pain, I’ll shout all I want!” my werewolf father roared.

Papa Percy opened his mouth to reply, but Momma R placed a hand on his arm. “It’s fine, Percival.” Papa Percy glared at Papa Al but remained silent as Momma R spoke again. “I would, if I was able, but I am not, so I cannot.”

Papa Alrick frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Momma R frowned. “The day Caith returned with Bry alone, I went to my sanctuary to retrieve his feather. Caith was concerned—” that was an understatement “—so I was going to call him to my home by force. Except, his feather was gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Dammit, now Papa Leth was talking. Things were always less bloody when he remained silent.

“I mean something—or someone—broke through my protection spells and took it.”

Those first seconds after hearing Momma R’s news had been the most soul sucking of my life. My mind couldn’t wrap around the idea that someone on earth was stronger than the witch. It just… couldn’t be. There was no way.

“But… There isn’t…” Worry filled Papa Finn’s voice.

Uncle Luc voiced the same conclusion I had reached. “There isn’t anyone—in the tween.” He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling when, in truth, he was staring at On High. “But he can do what he damn well pleases when it comes to his gels.” He sighed and turned to me. “I am sorry, my infans.”

Truly, Uncle Luc didn’t seem that sorry. After all these years, I could tell when the King of Lies, well, lied. And there was something there… Something in his body language, in the way his gaze didn’t quite meet mine…

Something I’d ask about later. Now wasn’t the time to dig into my uncle’s brain.

I shrugged and rocked Bry. “It’s… It’s not fine. It is what it is. I can’t rage at him. It’s not like he’ll listen or respond to Satan’s niece.” More tears, more heartache, more unfamiliar emotions that clogged my throat. “I guess it’s good we didn’t truly mate, huh?”

That’d been yet another devastation to add to the pile of shit that my life had become.

The whole room froze, each body remaining still as my words echoed off the walls.

Seconds ticked past—had reached a minute?—before someone finally spoke.

“Perhaps you should explain, infans.” Uncle Luc was awfully calm for being the High Lord of Hell and source of all evil.

“I mean that when I claimed him. I couldn’t not sink my teeth into his flesh,” I murmured.

“And I see his bite on your shoulder, Caith,” Papa Al snarled. Perhaps having my volatile werewolf father in on this conversation was a bad idea.

“What else is required for a werewolf mating, Father.” Warmth flushed my cheeks.

“He…” Disbelief filled my werewolf parent’s voice.

“Didn’t. I did.” I focused on the carpet. “I didn’t realize it at first. We were in the tub and…” I figured any evidence of his release was washed away by the water. And then we’d never made love anywhere other than the bathroom, hot tub… It’d always involved water. “I thought… But the connection isn’t there. Even across species, there’s typically something more than a distant awareness that ties a couple together. It might not be telepathy or fully sensing the other’s emotions, but it’s more than just being a random acquaintance.”

“He’s a gel, Caith.” Jezebeth’s soft words drifted into the silence.

“Yes, he is.” I easily agreed with that truth. “But my wolf doesn’t feel fully mated. She isn’t at ease. She’s pacing and whining. When he was nearby, she wasn’t so fretful, but now that he’s gone, I know the truth.” I raised my gaze and met Jezebeth’s intent eyes. “I shared myself with him, but he didn’t in return. And now he’s gone.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Which is fine. I don’t need him.” I closed my eyes and refused to look at anyone in my family. “I’ve lived this long without him, I can keep doing it. I’ve got my bar, I’ve got my family, and I’ve got Bry. I don’t need him.”

I refused to admit my lie. Because I did need him so very, very much. My wolf whined for him, constantly urging me to go to the gates of On High to find him if I must. A demon in On High. Right.

Papa Eron took Alrick’s place at my feet, dropping to his knees before me. He gently stroked Bry’s narrow back, soothing the baby with that single touch. “We all need our other half, little flower. I know you’re in pain, but what about the boy? Do you want him growing up without a family? He has a heritage and a future that has nothing to do with being the child of Hell’s princess. You know this.”

His words were smooth and soft, calming despite the way his message tore at my heart. “What if he doesn’t want to be a brownie like the others? Maybe we’ve pigeonholed them. Maybe they’d love to have other jobs than cleaning up after others. Maybe—” I sobbed, unable to hold back the tears that’d been battering me for days. “Maybe—”

I couldn’t get the words out and the soft strokes of hands on my back made it worse.

A quiet, timid voice cut through my cries, the lyrical rise and fall overpowering my weeping. “It is best if the child remains with her. At this time.”

I didn’t care that the statement was quantified, that it sounded as if my time with Bry would someday be banished. I raised my head and focused on Blooming Aster.

The brownie hadn’t begrudged me for Dead Nettle’s death. Sometimes a man needs killing whether he’s a brownie or one of On High’s humans. Some beings shouldn’t be allowed to breathe.

Everyone else whirled on the small woman, each growling or snarling in their own way. It seemed everyone forgot about a brownie’s ability to be seen yet unseen inside their own home. She seemed unaffected beneath the collected menace.

“Why?” I spoke to her and her alone.

The woman shrugged. “You saved him. He’s bonded to you as if you were his mother. Taking him from you,” she shook her head. “It would do more harm than good.”

“But what about his family?” Papa Eron gently questioned.

The brownie shook her head. “Caith is his family. If he wishes to be raised as a brownie, our family will teach him all he desires. If he decides on another path, we’re sure she’ll help him.” The woman who stood tall beneath the High Lord of Hell’s fury now appeared timid. “We would ask for a not so simple favor.”

Anything.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“You said that perhaps all brownies might not wish to be…”

I knew I’d been right. Others thought of Bergamot as an anomaly. He was only half-brownie. Of course he wouldn’t have a brownie’s desires to clean and care for others. I figured it was a matter of personality and dreams and had nothing to do with his race.

“Whatever they want to do. If they need training, we’ll find it.”

“It’s…It’s not many.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter how many.” Bry squirmed against me, fussing and burrowing into my chest and I knew he was getting hungry again. “I want you all happy.”

The brownie flashed me a grateful smile and rushed off, disappearing once again. With her departure, the room’s occupants returned their gazes to me.

“I’m keeping him. I’ll have help if I need it and if it’s decided that he’ll be better off cared for by brownies, well, he’ll be cared for by my brownies. He’s mine now. I’ll always be in his life and he’ll always be in this house.” I jerked my chin up, nose pointed in the air and jaw stiff so everyone knew I was deadly serious. Because at that point, aching for my mate and feeling more alone than ever, I’d kill anyone who tried to take Bry from me.

Papa Alrick was the first to nod and acknowledge my statement, accepting if not agreeing. He shot everyone a glare, telling them without words that if they didn’t agree he’d make them agree. The rest of the group slowly got in line, their grudging acceptance welcome. They didn’t have to be overjoyed at my decision, I just didn’t want them fighting me.

Alrick padded forward, massive, fur-lined arms outstretched. “Come to Grandpapa, little Bry,” he murmured and snatched the boy, swinging him into the air.

Bry reacted as always, flashing a wide gummy smile, filling the air with his carefree laughs.

“Don’t make my grandchild lose his lunch on the carpet,” Papa Leth’s voice was gruff as he caught Bry before he landed in Alrick’s arms once again. “Aren’t you a braw one? I’ll teach you to wield a sword. Your tempmomma is good, but you’ll have big arms.”

“No talking about swords already.” Uncle Luc easily scooped Bry from Papa Leth’s arms. “We need to talk about hellfire first…”

“Uncle Luc,” I was such a crier now. Ever since I’d met Sam… “You’ll give him hellfire?” I pushed to my feet and approached my uncle. The man was the High Lord of Hell, but I knew he was a softy at heart. “For me?”

“For him,” his response was gruff. “He’s your child. I can’t have you crying in your cereal if someone hurts my nephew. Brownies are tough, but he needs to be tougher. His momma is the princess of Hell and he needs to be able to defend himself against whatever the tween throws at him when you’re not around. It isn’t because I love you,” he snarled and Bry and I both chuckled.

Uncle Luc simply rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to the baby’s head. The flash of white light that slid from my uncle to Bry was expected as well as the glow that enveloped him from head to toe. By the time he pulled his lips away, the deed was done.

“There. He’s prepared to be your child. I would, however, invest in a few spells against fire. You were a precocious child and learned which materials burned hottest versus those that smoked the most.”

I grinned and reached for a drowsy Bryony, rubbing my fingers gently up and down his back as the child nestled against the High Lord of Hell’s broad chest.

I didn’t have Sam, but I had Bry and I had my family. I didn’t need anything else.

Someday I hoped I’d believe the lie.