Epilogue - Zane

Two months later, I’m standing outside the clinic, filled with the primordial kind of awkward fear experienced by most male relatives during a family member’s labor.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a soft, golden light over Rosecreek. Fall is here in full force. Soon enough, it’ll be winter. The seasons have been passing so fast. The trees around us are changing, their leaves blazing in reds, oranges, and yellows, drifting gently to the ground with every gust of wind, soon to be completely bare. The world is turning itself over like a page, bearing a new blank surface.

And so are we.

Inside, Maisie’s taking care of Olivia. My brother, who, after all we’ve been through, doesn’t seem like a stranger anymore, is in there with them, and he sounds remarkably calm, even though I know he’s scared out of his mind.

A lot’s happened since that battle, more than I ever thought possible, but this moment feels like the most monumental by far.

Today, I become an uncle.

I hear Olivia cry out again, her pain sharp and clear even through the walls, and Byron’s voice murmuring something soothing to her. Maisie’s voice follows. Calm, steady. Reassuring. Professional.

My beautiful, powerful, intelligent mate.

I’ve never seen anyone in their element like Maisie is when she’s doing her work. She was made for this. Healing people, bringing them back to life in more ways than one. She’s been by Olivia’s side this entire time, holding her steady, helping her through the contractions. It’s been ten hours. I know Byron’s grateful. He doesn’t say much when it comes to his feelings, but I can see it in the way he looks at Maisie.

And I know I’m grateful. For her. For all of this. For getting to be here at all.

Sometimes, the wound left from the battle still twinges. I try not to think about how close I came to dying. But it was far too close.

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my nerves in check. I’ve never been great at waiting. Waiting leaves you alone with your thoughts, and I hate being alone with my thoughts. Patience was always Byron’s thing. I’m full of nervous energy.

It’s a girl. We know that much. Byron and Olivia picked the name Carmen. I didn’t think I’d care much about the name, but now, standing here, thinking about her, I’m realizing that name’s going to mean everything to me. She’s not even here yet, and already, I’m wondering what she’ll be like. Will she have Byron’s stubborn attentiveness, his sharp mind? Olivia’s quick, wicked wit? Will she love the woods as much as we all do, the lake, the sky? Will she drive us crazy? Probably.

There’s another groan from inside and then a shrill, lengthy scream. And then I hear Maisie’s voice, softer than before. Something’s happening.

I step toward the door, but I don’t go in. I want to. Hell, I really want to. But I stay put because I trust Maisie. She’s got this. Byron’s got this.

And then, clear as day, there it is.

The sound of a baby’s first cry.

The world seems to stop for a second; everything goes still and quiet except for that perfect, tiny wail. My chest tightens, my heart thudding painfully against my ribs. She’s here. Carmen. My niece.

I push open the door to the clinic slowly; my footsteps are quiet as I step inside and then cross into the back. The examination room smells like antiseptic and sweat, but it’s warm, lowly lit with golden lamps, as Olivia requested. The air is thick with something that feels almost sacred.

Byron’s crouched beside the bed, his face buried in Olivia’s shoulder, his whole body shaking with what I’m guessing is pure relief. Olivia’s face is pale, but she’s smiling—softer than I’ve ever seen her smile, like she’s in a dream. And Maisie… God, Maisie looks radiant.

She’s standing at the end of the bed, holding the baby wrapped in a soft, white blanket, looking down at her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. And she is.

Maisie catches my eye, and in that moment, everything falls perfectly into place. She nods at me, a silent acknowledgment, and then she hands Carmen to Olivia, who holds her close, cooing, sweaty face breaking into a huge smile.

“She’s so beautiful,” Olivia breathes. “Oh, look at her. Byron, look.”

They both peer down at their daughter. She does not, as everyone joked, have purple hair. Instead, she bears a thick tuft of black hair on the top of her little head, the precise shade of mine. The color Byron’s was once upon a time.

Byron, whose hands tremble as he takes her. Byron, who looks like his world is being rearranged, its shape changed to fit this tiny person into its center.

I move closer, drawn toward them like I can’t help myself. Byron’s standing now, holding his daughter as carefully as if she were made of glass. His eyes, usually so guarded, are wet, his jaw tight with emotion.

He looks up at me, and for the first time in years, we really look at each other. There’s no animosity, no old wounds festering beneath the surface. Just two brothers standing on the edge of something new.

He gives me a small, tight smile, and I return it, swallowing against the lump in my throat.

“You wanna hold her?”

Byron’s voice is rough like he’s trying to hold back the tears.

I nod, my heart pounding as I step forward. He carefully places Carmen into my arms, and the second I feel her weight, light and impossibly delicate, something shifts inside me. Her tiny face is scrunched up, her eyes closed tight, her fists balled up under her chin. She’s so small. I’ve never seen anything like her.

I look down at her, and for the first time in my life, I feel something I can’t quite put into words. It’s overwhelming. It’s love, sure, but it’s more than that. It’s a sense of responsibility, of awe. Like I’m standing at the start of something huge. And as I look up at Maisie, standing there beside me, her eyes soft and full of that quiet strength I’ve come to love, I realize something else.

Fatherhood is going to be just as magical.

I don’t have to imagine it anymore. I know. I know that when our baby arrives, it’s going to feel just like this—like I’m holding the whole world in my hands. And Maisie… she’s going to be the most incredible mother. I’ve always known that, but now, seeing her with Olivia, seeing how she’s cared for her, it’s solidified in my heart.

I look back down at Carmen, still fast asleep in my arms.

“Hey, kiddo,” I murmur, my voice hoarse with emotion. “Welcome to the world.”

Maisie steps up beside me, resting her head on my shoulder as we both look down at her together. I feel her hand on my arm, gentle, grounding.

I’m an uncle.

And soon, I’ll be a father, too.

For the first time in my life, I think I’m ready.

I glance over at Byron. He’s standing beside Olivia, holding her hand, both of them staring at their baby like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

And I get it.

Because she is.

*****

THE END