37 Favorite Uncle Status

Bel

Bel put an extra bounce in his step to make Sharkie giggle as she sat on his shoulders, hands gripping his horns like joysticks. He wasn’t too worried about them meeting everyone, even though his cheerfully chaotic family was full of big personalities. Sharkie had displayed a remarkable adaptability to her various surroundings, making friends wherever she went. And Lily? Half his family was in awe of her for showing up and offering to work at the gate, and the other half liked her for no other reason than the effect she’d had on him.

His mother was especially eager to meet her, having heard about Lily from both Bel and Lucifer. Though the twinkle in her eyes when she’d said so had Bel wondering how his loving, cunning mother would test Lily.

Lily squeezed his hand, the full cart of food trundling along behind her. The red-gold light gilded her hair and cast a warm glow on her skin. The V-neck of her shirt offered a tempting glimpse of the upper swells of her breasts—breasts that he still hadn’t gotten to explore with his mouth. It was an item high on his to-do list. Especially when she looked so happy. She was glorious when dealing with souls, when she had her nose in a book, when she scowled at the walls of Carlton, when she laughed, when she was focused. Her moments of sadness and self-doubt weren’t what he would call glorious, but those glimpses into her brilliant, wonderfully complex mind were powerful. He treasured those moments of intimacy and trust just as much as he treasured everything else.

Every part of her captivated him.

Lily met his eyes with a little smile, her expression softening in a way that he’d learned was rare for her, the moment of connection washing through him like a warm breeze. Sharkie did something on his shoulders that made him hold her foot a little tighter to keep her from falling, and Sharkie and Lily laughed.

Something bloomed in his chest so powerfully that he sucked in a breath. Lily, perceptive as ever, raised her brows a bit, but before she could say anything, raucous laughter and music drew their attention.

His mother’s estate was a study of jewel tones and silver and wide expanses of glass, reminiscent of—ironically enough for Lady Lilith—a cathedral. A high fence covered with bioluminescent vines kept the expansive lawn and garden private. The house had always reminded him of his mother—imposing in appearance, but a warm place to grow up, full of laughter and stories and mischief.

Lily and Sharkie had paused, staring up at the house. Lily seemed impressed, excited even, hazel eyes bright, and a smile playing around her mouth. He couldn’t see Sharkie’s face, but he could feel that she’d gone a bit still, so he pointed to the highest window on the tower.

“Sharkie, you see that window?”

“Yeah?” She rested her hands on top of his head.

“When I was about your age, my brother Orin dared me to fly between the spires on the tower, but I missed and flew into that window instead.”

Sharkie gasped. “Really? Did it break?”

Bel nodded with exaggerated sadness, and Lily snickered.

“Yep, glass everywhere . But that wasn’t the worst part.”

“How was breaking a window not the worst part?” Sharkie leaned around his head to peer at him, wide-eyed.

“Because,” Bel said gravely, biting back a smile, “behind that window is my mother’s office. She was in it at the time.” He paused for effect. “And so was God, Parvati—a Hindu goddess, Lucifer, and Chanxi, a Chinese lunar goddess.”

He had to let go of Lily’s hand to grip both of Sharkie’s feet and keep her from tumbling sideways off his shoulders.

“What did you do?” Sharkie asked, completely ignoring the near fall.

Bel chuckled and grimaced, the memory of his mother’s incredulous look of are-you-fucking-kidding-me-child , and the surprise and amusement of the other deities as fresh in his mind as the day it had happened.

“Said ‘Hi, Mom’, apologized for the window, and asked if I could have a snack.”

Lily snorted. “Now I’m surprised you lived to tell the tale.”

“Frankly, me too. Needless to say, I did not get a snack, and I had to help replace the window the next day. I also had no dessert for a month, so I had an incentive to get better at flying.”

“Was that a punishment for being wicked, or a…” Sharkie fidgeted a little on his shoulders. “A boundary?”

Wicked. He knew immediately that it wasn’t her word.

“Making mistakes isn’t wicked,” he said gently. “Especially when you’re a child and don’t know any better, because you’re still learning how to be a person. My mom didn’t take my dessert away because she was mad at me and wanted to take something away from me. She was mostly scared for me. It’s funny now, but I could have seriously hurt myself, or someone else, by flying through a window like that. I had to learn to be more careful. The no dessert was so I’d understand how important it was.”

“So it was a boundary,” Sharkie confirmed, a thread of relief entering her tone.

“Yeah, bug.” Lily smiled up at her, pride shining in her lovely eyes. “That’s exactly it.”

“Good job recognizing that, kiddo,” Bel said, shimmying his shoulders to make her laugh.

A moment later, Sharkie spoke up again. “Did Orin get in trouble?”

“Of course not. I wasn’t a snitch, and Orin is a very good actor. Now,” he said brightly, “how would you both like to get some food and meet my crazy family?”

He lifted Sharkie off his shoulders and took Lily’s hand again, guiding them to the side gate that was always left unlocked for family events. It swung open on silent hinges, and a cheer went up from the fifty or so people in attendance. Sharkie stopped, twitching back towards Lily, who murmured something to her.

“UNCLE BEL!” A small stampede of kids shot out of the crowd like shards of metal being drawn to a magnet.

“Here they come.” Bel grinned, letting go of Lily’s hand to keep her from being tackled too.

His nephew Valafar was the first to reach him, barely slowing before he slammed into him. His nieces Nimmie and Lezzie were next, bouncing for his attention, followed by his cousin’s youngest daughter. Soucri, his eldest brother’s toddler, waddled as fast as his chubby legs could carry him, shrieking at the affront of being left out.

They all chattered at once, and he picked out maybe every third word. Nimmie grabbed his wrist, checking that her bracelet was still intact and crowing the news to her twin, who pointed out that her bracelet was still there too. Nimmie wrinkled her nose, abandoning Bel for more interesting company.

She walked up to Sharkie, confident as anything, and introduced herself. Sharkie beamed and said something back. Nimmie offered her hand, Sharkie took it and was pulled towards the crowd of adults and older kids. Sharkie went with a giggle, and Bel’s heart swelled with pride for how far she’d come from that first day.

He picked up Soucri, who whined on the fringe of the pack of kids, tossing him into the air and catching him just in time to see the flood of adults, including his mother, heading their way. His sister made a beeline for Lily.

“Lils”—he gestured—“this is my sister Kasdeya; she’s a hugger. Deya, this is—”

“Hello!” Kasdeya beamed, wrapping Lily in an enthusiastic hug. The two women began chatting as if they were old friends. Quiet pride hummed in his chest before he noticed the woman approaching him.

“Hey, Mom.” He grinned.

“Hey, honey.” Her smile radiated warmth.

Beautiful as ever, she was in her version of casual wear—wide-legged, comfortable trousers and a blouse with the sleeves artfully rolled to her elbows. On her hip, Bel’s infant half sister fussed as usual, though admittedly with less volume. Bel adored his baby sister, but he—and his eardrums—were acutely aware that she could be…opinionated. She couldn’t speak yet, but that didn’t stop her from expressing her displeasure. Loudly.

Little spitfire.

With her free arm, his mother shooed away the kids and wrapped him in a hug. He hugged her back, leaning over to kiss Anyaet’s little head between the pair of pigtails that stuck straight up like tiny antennas. She burbled at him with a gummy smile, so he kissed her again.

“You alright?” his mother asked, adjusting Anyaet. As one of the highest-ranking members of Hell outside of the six princes, as well as one of the oldest remaining beings of their realm, she was privy to most information, often knowing what Bel’s orders would be before he did. Despite the fact that she had created and continued to manage the Healers Guild and had nothing to do with military operations, he knew she read every single tactical brief.

“Better than alright.” He smiled, looking over his shoulder. Getting better all the time. Except when I think about— Nope, not going there today. “Would you like to meet Lily?”

He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth before his mother waved them away, scoffing.

“Beleth. Please. What kind of question is that?” She turned, making to interrupt Lily and Kasdeya’s conversation. Bel booped Soucri on the nose, set him down, and aimed him in the direction of his brother.

“Do you want me to take Anyaet?” he asked.

“No, no, it’s fine,” his mother said, entirely too casually. “She’s a good judge of character.”

Oh no.

He watched with fascination and concern as his mother briefly introduced herself. Then, to what could only be described as his horror, she handed Anyaet unceremoniously to Lily without warning, smiling the entire time, as if she hadn’t just handed an infant time bomb to the love of Bel’s life.

Lily

She loved Lilith’s house.

At first glance, the cathedral-like appearance had sent a jolt of old panic down her spine, but then Bel had told the story of how he’d broken one of those beautiful windows. It was hard to imagine him as anything but massive, but she would have bet her Paradise that he’d been an adorable kid. She’d loved the story, but she loved how Sharkie had asked for clarification when she’d needed it even more.

Lily had braced to be intimidated by Bel’s family, but when they’d cheered at their arrival, it felt like walking into a crowd of friends. Bel hadn’t lied about being popular with the kids; they came belting from every corner of the yard to jump on him and clamber over each other for his attention. His love for each and every one of them was as obvious as the fact he had wings. Sharkie had a flare of hesitation at the noise, but the moment a little demon girl with lovely sage-colored skin and dark green eyes approached her, she lit up.

“I’m Nimmie! What’s your name?” Her grin revealed a pair of missing front teeth.

“I’m Sharkie.”

“Hi!” Nimmie beamed. “Wanna play a game with me?”

“Sure!” Sharkie grinned back, taking her hand and sprinting away, giggling without a shred of fear.

Lily watched them go, proud and relieved. Adults made their way over, laughing and chatting. More than a few of them eyed Lily curiously. She wondered what, exactly, they’d heard about her.

A beautiful female demon with ochre skin and striking emerald eyes practically bounced over to her. Despite her different coloring, Lily could immediately tell that this had to be one of Bel’s half sisters. Their bone structure was too similar, even if the woman was built tall and thin and Bel was all solid strength.

“Lils,” Bel called over the din, “this is my sister Kasdeya; she’s a hugger. Deya—”

The woman, Kasdeya, scooped Lily into the one of the most enthusiastic hugs she’d ever received, second only to the one she’d gotten from a drunk girl in a club bathroom to whom she’d given a hair tie.

“Hello!” Kasdeya squealed. “I am so excited to meet you! We all are! You are so beautiful!”

Lily blushed, laughing. “Oh, thank you, right back at you! That was your daughter Nimmie, right?”

Lily figured that brilliant smiles must be a family trait, as Kasdeya beamed.

“Yep, she and Lezzie have wanted to meet Sharkie ever since Bel first mentioned her. I can’t promise that there won’t be mischief, but we all keep an eye on the kiddos when we’re en masse like this. Please, tell me all about your Hellp Desk! Every time we ask Bel, he ends up talking about how proud he is of you , which is sweet but doesn’t answer the question.”

Lily launched into the basic explanation that she’d begun to perfect. Kasdeya was incredibly perceptive, asking nuanced questions that Lily was delighted to answer. A few moments later, a tall, incredibly regal woman with a baby on her hip sauntered over to them.

Lily would have picked her out as Bel’s mother anywhere. They had the same basic bone structure, but where Bel’s features were rugged, hers were porcelain fine. Her skin was such a pale shade of purple that it almost could almost pass as a mortal skin color and carried the slightest hints of age in the lines of her face. Her inky tresses were untouched by time, however, and swept back into an effortlessly tousled French twist. Short, delicate horns curved back over her head, a less robust version of her son’s. Immaculately tailored, wide-legged black trousers and a silvery blouse with the sleeves cuffed at her elbows hinted at a lush figure. Her eyes were warm but keen, the intelligence in her gaze a naked blade glimmering in bright green irises made all the more captivating by the black sclera surrounding them.

Lily wondered if Bel’s father had black sclera too.

Lilith smiled, and yep, it had to be a family trait. “You must be Lily! I’ve heard so much about you!” She had a rich, smooth voice that was slightly deep for a woman but came nowhere near Bel’s resonant bass.

“Hello, Lady Lilith.” Lily smiled, trying to focus on the fact that she was Bel’s mother, not the fact that she was meeting the Lilith of legend.

Be yourself, but not the self that loves to casually tell sex jokes, you filthy-minded gutter rat. This is his mother.

“Oh, please.” Bel’s mother smiled, waving an elegant hand. “Just call me Lilith. Here, have a baby.”

Before Lily could process the words or even blink in surprise, she found herself with a chubby, wide-eyed baby in her arms. The baby’s skin was a slightly darker shade of purple than Lilith’s, and she had short, soft, black hair that had mostly been tied up into two little pigtails that stuck straight up. The eyes that stared at Lily were the exact same as her mother’s. The baby huffed, clearly processing her new situation and deciding whether or not to start screaming about it.

Lily shifted her a bit so that her weight rested more comfortably, giving her a little half smile. “Hello.”

It was then that she noticed the near-complete silence around them, as if all the adults and even some of the kids were holding their breath.

The baby blinked a few times, eyes locked on Lily’s face, then cooed, breaking into a gummy grin, seizing a fistful of Lily’s hair and trying to grab her chin.

There was a collective exhale from the group, including Bel muttering in apparent relief.

“Look at that.” Lilith’s expression went soft. “It’s not often Anyaet likes someone so quickly. You should feel special.”

Bel emerged from the crowd to stand by Lily, shaking his head at his mother. “It’s not often Anya likes someone at all , Mom. I can’t believe you.”

“What?” Lilith looked only mildly affronted.

“‘Hi, Lily,’” Bel mimicked, his deep voice going comically high—for him, anyway. “‘Welcome to the family, but before you even have a chance to eat, let’s see if the Almighty Baby Grenade deems you worthy.’” He fluttered his eyelashes for good measure.

Lily swallowed her laughter and focused on keeping Anyaet from yanking out her hair. “You’re a very cute little baby grenade,” Lily told her.

Anyaet babbled in agreement and started nomming on a chunk of Lily’s hair.

Something in Lily’s chest loosened and ratcheted tighter at the same time. It was a sensation she was painfully familiar with. She’d rationalized it to hell and back when she’d been alive. She understood why she hadn’t had the opportunity to have her own family, understood the ways her decisions had played a part in that.

But understanding it didn’t mean it hadn’t still fucking hurt though. Every time one of her friends or cousins had a baby she’d been beyond thrilled for them, loved that they were getting to fulfill that part of their dream, had offered her support and helped out when they’d needed a break.

But, oh how it had hurt, so quietly and deeply that it was like she’d swallowed little shards of glass into her soul. She’d ignored that feeling for a long time, until she’d realized that she could no longer do herself the disservice of pretending that it didn’t matter. So she’d still loved those kids, still loved and supported her friends and cousins, but she would always allow herself a moment of selfish grief.

However, she sure as shit wasn’t going to have that little moment in front of Bel—who was entirely too perceptive—and his entire family. Her momentary slip had been dangerous enough, and she hoped no one—Bel—had noticed.

So what if he did? He’d listen. He’d understand.

The thought should have shocked the shit out of her, but instead it felt like the voice of reason had spoken into the situation.

Except.

Except how could she talk to him about the very thing that bound her so tightly to a possible reincarnation someday? The baby in her arms had reminded her starkly of that dream, even if it was in a far distant future, when Sharkie didn’t need her anymore.

“You should have seen Bel,” Lilith said, every inch the proud mother, “he was cute too, and he had those little bitty wings .”

“You were chunky,” Kasdeya told him. “Lily, I swear to you, his face was like eighty percent cheek . Although, unlike this one, he was almost indiscriminately cuddly. Just constantly needing to be held.”

Bel snorted and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and making his biceps flex deliciously.

Down, girl.

“That does sound familiar.” Lily smirked.

He raised an eyebrow, lips parting enough that she could see his tongue running over the tip of a fang. “What were you like as a baby, princess?”

“Oh, I wasn’t fussy at all,” Lily lied airily. She imagined that somewhere in the mortal world, her mom felt the sudden need to regale someone with the fact that Lily had raged passionately against nap time, even when she needed a nap, until she’d gotten old enough to win the nap time war.

Bel squinted, but before he could say anything, Lilith clapped her hands, announced that the food was ready when they were, and ushered them towards the ornate tables set on the lawn and piled with food. Someone had absconded with the cart of cinnamon rolls and added them to the hoard, so all Lily had to do was hold Anyaet and follow the crowd.

Bel’s warm hand came to rest on her back, and he dropped a kiss into her hair. She hummed appreciatively, smiling up at him. He returned it, then shook his head at his little sister, who reached for him. Lily handed her over. Bel settled her against his shoulder like a pro, and Anyaet immediately reached for one of the little braids holding his hair back from his temples.

Bel looked so happy with the baby in his arms, and he’d been so excited to see all the kids. He was already so wonderful with Sharkie…

I wonder what our kids would look like?

She slammed the door on that thought so hard she was surprised it didn’t audibly clang. It wasn’t possible. Would never be possible.

She couldn’t entertain the idea.

She could see it, though, see them raising more kids together.

The flash of warmth and pain was stronger than before.

She took advantage of Bel’s distraction to have a moment, working through the fresh grief and settling into acceptance. Then, with a deep breath, she moved on, focusing on the laughter and all the wonderful new people she wanted to know better.

* * *

Laughter flowed freely and often among Bel’s family. They had all piled plates high with food, scattering around the expansive lawn and the merrily crackling firepit to chat. She had already met two of Bel’s siblings—Kasdeya and Anyaet—and was quickly introduced to the other four. She saw the pieces of their mother in all of them, but noted how wildly they differed from each other. Four of his five elder siblings had partners and children, and she’d met and adored them too. Then had come the wash of cousins, along with their families. Every single one of them had been friendly, and most had been exceptionally curious about the Hellp Desk. No one had looked down on her for being a mortal soul, and a few had even quietly thanked her for whatever she had done to make Bel “better.”

Though, there had been a moment of weirdness when Bel had introduced her to the siblings’ fathers. There was an odd tightness in his smiling expression, and he hadn’t met her eyes for more than a second at a time during all six introductions.

Not seven.

One father had been conspicuously absent, and a reason had never been offered, or even hinted at. She noted it along with Bel’s tension and didn’t mention it, but curiosity simmered. Bel had never talked about his father, even obliquely.

The relationships in Hell, and among the Afterlife denizens in general, were all within the spectrum of healthy. She couldn’t believe that Bel’s father would ever willingly leave his incredible son’s life. Perhaps his father died when he was little, like Asmodeus’s had, and that was why he never talked about him? She was almost certain that that was the loss he’d referenced. But Bel had said “left behind,” not “lost” when he’d talked about his experience with grief, so maybe he’d been talking about something else. She wanted to ask, but she also wanted him to share whatever it was when he felt ready enough.

Eventually, after they’d all been introduced, eaten, and settled into different conversations, Bel relaxed. They ended up sitting on the ground, Lily leaning back between his legs, his arms wrapped around her middle while they talked about various goings-on.

Asmodeus landed lightly on the lawn after everyone had sat down to eat, setting Sariah down as if she were made of glass. The kids descended on Asmodeus with almost as much enthusiasm as they had Bel and watched Asmodeus like hawks while he ate his plate of food. The moment he cleared his plate, they moved in. Nyso—one of the youngest, and Orin’s youngest of four—was the first to convince Asmodeus that he simply had to have a “flight ride.”

A ripple of laughter spread through the adults at the words “flight ride,” several of them shooting Bel amused looks.

Bel smiled against her temple. “Oh boy, here we go.”

Lily covered his hands with hers and twisted to kiss the underside of his jaw, the action as natural as breathing. “Are you being objectified by children for your wings?” she teased.

He squeezed her lightly and nipped at her ear, which sent an embarrassingly strong wave of arousal rocketing through her system. He clearly didn’t miss the way her breath hitched, because he chuckled and did it again—

Right as a group of kids ran up to them, Sharkie leading the charge. Lily feigned a cough and took a long sip of the generously poured wine, hoping to hide her blush.

Sharkie had shoved her hood back, and her eyes were so bright and happy that Lily had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. Lily marveled at the transformation from the terrified child she’d first met to this joyful, fiercely curious little person.

Lily was so proud of her. She didn’t think she told her enough.

“Uncle Bellllll,” Lezzie crooned, the picture of innocence, hands clasped behind her back and swaying back and forth. “Can I have a flight ride, pretty please?”

“Can I have one too?” Nimmie asked the moment her sister finished speaking.

“Can I be third?” Sharkie asked, hope shining out of her round face.

The other kids chimed in, talking over each other, each trying to be the loudest, best, first. Except Sharkie. She looked a little spooked as the other kids grew rowdier, but quickly regained her smile, quietly bouncing in place and waiting.

Bel’s overly thoughtful hum was almost a growl, and it sent heat licking straight between Lily’s thighs.

“A flight ride, huh?”

The near harmonious chorus of pleeeeaaaasssseeee set off another round of adult laughter.

“Since Sharkie has never had a flight ride before…” Bel drawled slowly. Sharkie’s shuddered inhalation of excitement wasn’t subtle in the least, but she looked so hopeful she seemed ready to burst. “I think Sharkie should get the first one.”

“Oh yeah! Sharkie goes first!” Nimmie said brightly, then added with steel in her tone, “Then me.”

“No, then me !” Lezzie argued. Across the circle, Kasdeya shook her head and shared a knowing look with her husband.

“Tell you what,” Bel said, disentangling himself from Lily carefully, “if, by the time Sharkie and I get back, you guys haven’t worked together nicely to figure out what order to go in, then no more rides. Can you do that?”

“Obviously,” said a girl who was a bit older than the others, fixing the other kids in her stare. “We’ll do that, right?” The or else was unspoken. The kids quickly agreed.

Bel offered his hand to Sharkie, who practically lunged for it. He guided her to an open stretch of lawn and crouched down to talk to her.

Lily braced a hand and leaned back, smile growing as Sharkie nodded enthusiastically to whatever Bel had said.

A chair dropped onto the grass beside her, and Lily looked up to see Sariah easing down, one hand cradling the side of her ever-growing stomach.

“I love that man, and I love this kid, and I have honestly loved being pregnant until now, but fuck me, I’m starting to not have fun anymore,” Sariah announced to the sympathetic laughter of everyone in the circle.

Several women started up a conversation about the joys and woes of pregnancy. Lily expected the men to launch to their feet and hurry away to talk about something—literally anything—else. Instead they seemed to settle, many of them sharing looks with their wives or partners; a few patted thighs and shoulders.

It still struck her to see affection given so casually sometimes, but she found that it was getting easier and easier to override that old programming. Especially since she’d always been fond of touch by nature. So many things had changed, she mused, watching Bel lift Sharkie in his arms.

“Here they go!” someone called.

The conversations paused as Bel spread his wings, holding them wide for a moment, then launched into the air. Lily watched them rise, whooping and cheering along with everyone else, her silent chest flooding with joy. Over the muffled thump of Bel’s wingbeats as he circled high overhead, Lily could hear Sharkie’s high, gleeful cackle.

“I don’t know what your life was like,” Sariah said, leaning over the side of her chair, “but, girl, you are having the coolest fucking Afterlife.”

Lily squinted up at Bel and Sharkie as they flew high and far enough away to turn into specks and aimed a smile at Sariah. “My Afterlife is significantly cooler than my life was, though it wasn’t bad.”

Sariah nodded thoughtfully, a breeze ruffling her hair and blowing a charcoal-colored strand free of the clip she’d contained it in. She opened her mouth to say something, then winced and shifted, pressing a hand to her ribs.

“I was going to ask something profound, but my kid is starting to think they’re running out of room,” she said with an exasperated smile.

“Almost there, huh?”

“About five more months to go, but I’m closer to the end than the beginning, thank fuck. Is it true mortals are only pregnant for nine months?”

“Eh, it’s more like ten, but there’s usually a couple weeks of variance. How long for you?”

“A year. Possibly a bit longer if there are wings involved.” Sariah sighed. “Did you ever have kids? This is obviously my first time.”

Lily considered shrugging it off as usual, but…she was done being afraid. And part of not being afraid was being real. So, what the hell. Literally.

She gave Sariah a rueful smile. “Not in any of my lifetimes. Sorry, I’m not able to give you experience-based advice.”

“Ah,” Sariah said slowly, her golden eyes going sharp. “Did you want kids, then?”

Lily had known it was coming, but her throat tightened anyway. “Very much,” she murmured, finding her wineglass particularly interesting.

“Then I’m sorry,” Sariah said softly.

Lily met her eyes again.

Sariah’s gaze flashed with a bit of the fire that must have drawn Asmodeus in so completely. “Not for asking. If you hadn’t wanted to answer me, then you would have told me to fuck all the way off. I respect that. Then I would have apologized for asking. No, I’m sorry that you never got to have kids during your mortal life.” Sariah glanced upwards with a smile as Bel swooped overhead with Sharkie, who was shrieking with laughter. “But your kid is pretty awesome. I know it’s not exactly the same, but—”

“We just skipped the pregnancy to preschool phase,” Lily said, returning Sariah’s smile with one of her own. She glanced upwards, wondering briefly if Sharkie would ever ask about siblings.

Some of the kids in the nearby group raised their voices as their argument grew increasingly heated. Lily arched an eyebrow, happening to meet the gaze of Bel’s oldest brother, Melchom. He rolled his eyes fondly.

Asmodeus landed, sending the cluster of kids sprinting toward him, shoving each other. He must have communicated with Bel at some point, because he shook his head, denying any more rides until Bel got back and saw that they’d done what he’d asked. The kids fell back into their argument while he stalked over to Sariah, running a gentle hand over the curve of her belly and kissing her forehead before nuzzling his nose against hers.

Lily looked away and listened to Lilith talking about her children.

“You’d think that Beleth would have been the most difficult because of the wings, but when they’re born, their wings are just filmy little things plastered to their backs, so Bel’s birth wasn’t bad at all. Aludem”—Lilith pointed dryly at her fourth child, who grinned and laced his gray hands behind his head—“was the most difficult. And the biggest, by far .”

“But the most peaceful baby, right?” Aludem laughed.

People around the group chuckled. Lily caught Sariah glancing at her out of the corner of her eye and shot her a quick thumbs-up. I’m fine.

Sweet of her, though, to check in about all the baby talk.

“Very funny. Most peaceful baby award goes to Beleth or Orin. Though, Beleth was extra stressful because I’d never had a baby with wings before, and I was always worried that I would accidentally do something to keep him from flying.”

“But noooo,” Annika, the second eldest child, put in, “Bitty Bel had to learn how to fly early .”

“And none of us knew a moment’s peace from that day on,” Orin drawled. “He’d just fly off .”

“ You were the one who taught yourself how to pick the lock on the pantry and ate yourself sick on sugar. Multiple times,” Lilith said.

“Mom! Keep your voice down, the kids will get ideas!”

“Too late,” someone muttered.

“Sugar incidents aside, Bel was the one who flew into your office window,” Orin said smugly.

Unwilling to let that one go by unanswered, Lily leaned forward innocently. “But weren’t you the one who dared him to fly between the spires of the tower?”

There was a beat of silence during which Orin’s deep blue face paled several shades. Then the circle erupted into laughter and catcalls. Sariah cackled like a Halloween witch, and Asmodeus laid fully on his side, howling.

“I knew someone put him up to that! You let him take the blame for that all these years?” Lilith’s voice rose over everyone’s laughter, which, of course, set them off again, drowning out Orin’s attempts to explain.

A warm little body flopped against her side, catching her off guard.

“What’s going on?” Sharkie asked breathlessly. Her shaggy blond hair was utterly windswept, and she practically glowed with excitement.

Lily wiped her eyes, chuckling. “Oh, we’re just laughing about something Orin did. Did you have fun?”

“Yes! I’m gonna ask Bel to fly me everywhere now!”

A shadow fell over them, and she looked up.

Bel held his hand out expectantly. “Your turn, princess.”