Aden

One Year Later

The upbeat, crisp melody from an Irish Tin Whistle reverberates across the courtyard of the quaint restaurant run by Marcus and Brian and their three chaotic goblin children. The setting sun casts buttery light across the courtyard, making the glasses of red wine nearly glow.

I sit at the long oak table on Clavicle's right hand side, chewing on venison, staring at Tarsus across from me, at their antlers, and considering whether or not Clav, Tarsus, and Mandi are basically cannibals for eating a distant cousin that is the deer. Weaver peaks out from the blanket of Tarsus' bone-white hair, waving at me with one of her pedipalps.

Clavicle met with Marcus and Brian not long after reclaiming the throne. I'm not sure about the specifics, but Brian and Marcus have seemed to warm up to this new version of Clavicle, and now dining at their riverside restaurant is a weekly occurrence for us.

Beside me, Abaddon holds a four-month-old Clover in his arms, his wing cradling the babe while he growls sweet nothings loud enough for her ears alone. His ribbed ears twitch with every giggle she makes, and a rare smile revealing those sharp fangs graces his own features.

I don't think I have seen anyone make Abaddon smile the way Clover does. He's practically adopted her as his own daughter. She reaches up with her human hand and wraps those chubby fingers around his jeweled talon as if it weren't a weapon with which the bat king has used to slaughter his enemies in battle.

True to her name, Clover wears a ringlet woven from clovers, the shamrock green standing out from her bone-white hair. Clavicle leans in and blows raspberries into her neck and she giggles wildly. When her mischief-filled green eyes meet mine, I know she's going to be trouble some day. The prospect makes a grin tug at my face as I stuff a bite of a buttered croissant into my mouth.

I wasn't sure I'd ever bear a child. I'd never really connected with humans, and fae weren't able to provide me with children. It was a miracle that Clavicle and I hooked up when he was still human. Especially since he and Tarsus would never have been able to bear children either, unless they adopted.

It baffles me how it all worked out. I glance at Clavicle's mortal father, Rick, and wonder if maybe this God of his truly does have a hand in every realm, even if that God doesn't reveal themself like the gods of this fae land do. Maybe this God is a little less demanding, a little more graceful than our malicious gods.

Clavicle's father took to our fae world better than I anticipated. I wasn't lying when I told the Cadre that this place is too much for a lot of humans. But Clavicle's father has been fighting off bat folk for years. Learning that the fae world was just another realm and not a version of hell almost seemed like a relief to him.

Mandi and Rick seem happier than they ever were together, according to Clavicle. And I'm guessing it has to do with Mandi not having any more secrets between them. They're excellent grandparents to Clover, to the point that sometimes I have to pry my own daughter from the bone witch's fingers at bedtime.

The rest of the Cadre sits around the restaurant table for our weekly family meal.

Six years ago, I was living out of my car, using my paycheck from the coffee shop I worked at to pay for my meals. I didn't have a family—my parents decided that I'd died the day I came out as a boy.

But then Tarsus came along, ordering a cinnamon dolce latte. I was drawn to them the moment I saw them, thinking they were in some badass cosplay. And they must have felt the same because they came every day after that, until one day, they took me to their world and I knew I'd found my true home.

One year ago I met Clavicle, and learned that just because I was a human living in a fae world, I didn't have to be treated like a China-doll inside a glass cabinet.

Tarsus saved me from a bad situation.

Wolfsbane taught me that anyone could have a change of heart if given the chance.

Ash taught me the art of the perfect orgasm.

And Clavicle taught me how to use my voice in a world that still clings to the belief that humans are weak.

I have a family now, a bright future. It pains me that my parents will never see my daughter or meet my partners, but that's their loss. It's the choice they made when they shoved me out the door with little else than the clothes on my back, telling me not to return until this phase passed.

Well, Mom and Dad, it wasn't a phase. And I have found a much better family who will always accept me, no matter what.

"Who would have thought," Wolfsbane says, as they sit next to Abaddon, tickling Clover's round belly and bringing out those delightful giggles, "that the Prince of Ruin who hated humans most would be the first one with a mortal heir to the throne?"

Chuckles ripple across the table.

Clavicle stuffs the last bite of venison into his mouth and leans back in his chair, folding his muscled arms over his chest. The decorative chains on their antlers clink with the movement.

"I think out of everyone here, you would understand how persuasive could be at changing a fae's cruel heart." Clavicle looks at me, silver eyes shining.

Wisps of silver ribbons curl from between his fingers, his fae magic calling to me. Never in my life did I imagine I would end up in a fae world, fucking a vampire, a witch, a fae prince, or a bat king.

But the frosting topping this already delicious cake is the Prince of Ruin who came into my life and did everything but ruin it.

THE END