37. Chapter Thirty-Seven Epilogue

Many Months Later…

Cally

The sun is fading behind the pines outside our little Quonset on this glorious Fourth of July evening. Time has flown in the months since I crawled under the fence and met Sylas. Our lives have changed so profoundly in that time it seems more like a decade.

I rest my palm on my rounded belly, smiling as our baby gives me a gentle kick. This little one already has a mind of its own—just like his or her mom. When my parents used to get exasperated with me, they would warn me that someday I might have my own sassy child. By the strength of the baby’s kicks, my parents just might be right.

The doctor explained that in the womb, hooves are soft. They don’t harden until after the baby is born. Thank goodness for small favors.

Worse than the kicking is that a month ago the doc put me on bed rest as a precaution, just in case. It’s not unusual. He’s done that for all the pregnant women in the compound.

But any discomfort or inconvenience seems trivial in light of the miracle growing inside me. Sylas and I are going to be parents! And not just to any ordinary baby, but a perfect blend of my humanity and his magnificent hybrid genes. I can’t wait to meet our son or daughter and discover who they’ll take after.

A flutter in my abdomen draws my hands to cradle the bump protectively. “Shhh, little fawn,” I croon. “You’re safe. No need to worry.” That’s what we’ve taken to calling the baby, thanks to the ultrasound tech spotting tiny nubs on its head that will likely develop into petite antlers. We don’t know yet whether its legs will be furry like its father or smooth like my human limbs, but you can’t mistake the hooves below the ankle. The day the doc showed us our baby’s tail on an ultrasound, the look on Sylas’s face was pure joy. I can’t wait to meet our little one.

As I caress the taut skin, I’m filled with awe all over again that there’s a tiny being growing safe inside me. Sylas and I created new life out of our love. It’s the most profound thing I’ve ever experienced.

Sylas refused to leave my side when I was placed on bedrest, fretting I’d get bored or lonely or—more likely—that I wouldn’t follow directions. Damn, that male knows me so well. But once I promised to follow doctor’s orders and work from my bed, Sylas relented. He even carried my worktable and printer to the bedroom, so I have my own little office within arms reach.

I’ve taken thousands of pictures of the splicers going about their daily lives. As I suspected, the images show their humanity. No one could miss the look of kindness on Chance the centaur’s expression as he kneels to allow his mate, Jo, onto his back. Or the pure joy sparkling from Tyler’s eyes as he, with all his tiger DNA, dances with Olivia under the moonlight. Their happiness at finding each other despite adversity is palpable.

My favorite is a candid of lion-man Noble bending to kiss his very pregnant mate Jenna in front of their Quonset, his furred hand gently cradling her belly. Sylas says I managed to capture the wonder in the male’s eyes.

Colonel Slater continues to be cautiously optimistic about the public’s acceptance of the splicers when the time comes. He even told us that when Top Secret advance copies of my photos were distributed to several key senators, they talked about ensuring splicers’ rights. That worry hadn’t even come up on my radar, but it sounds as though when the time comes, our guys will have all the rights of a U.S. citizen. I’ll never get over the thrill of knowing my work made a real difference.

Of course, Sylas worries I’m doing too much. He fusses over me constantly, making sure I have enough pillows propping me up and refreshments within reach. I indulge him since I know it makes him feel useful, but truly I’ve never been happier.

The only dark spot in my otherwise joyful life is that my family doesn’t know about any of this. As Colonel Slater promised, I’ve been in touch with them, though all correspondence has to be approved before it’s sent. They know I’m fine, although I had to reassure them a hundred times that I’m not in jail. I can’t blame them. It would be the first guess of anyone who knew me well that I stepped over a line one too many times and got caught doing something I shouldn’t.

They understand that I’m safe and will contact them the moment I’m allowed. What makes me sad is that I can’t tell them about the love of my life, or the miracle growing bigger every day inside my womb.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and give thanks to whoever’s listening that I was lucky enough to meet the male who is perfect for me. Just yesterday, I woke before him and memorized every inch of his face, feeling warmth infuse me with just how much I love him.

Sometimes the tsunami of affection hits me out of the blue. At others, it’s when he does something amazing, no matter how small. A few days ago, when we were in our favorite position on the couch with my feet in his lap, he read me a story, complete with silly voices. It was so adorable I couldn’t help but imagine how great he’s going to be with our little one.

The loving feeling is mutual, though Sylas doesn’t bother to hide it like I occasionally do. He never hesitates to praise me and shower me with words like adore, cherish, and honor. It makes my stomach swirl and swoop just to think about how much he loves me.

Sylas has been working hard framing and matting my prints to sell in our little shop once the splicer community goes public. Business has already been booming just from residents wanting framed photos of their mates or candid shots of themselves.

He should be home soon, because we’re going to join all our friends at the lake to watch fireworks. Most Americans celebrate the Fourth of July because of something that happened in 1776. For splicers, it signifies something much closer to home. They’ve renamed it Splicer Independence Day and celebrate the army infiltrating the evil scientist’s lair and freeing them from captivity.

Colonel Slater can be gruff and pretend he has no feelings, but it’s no secret he loves the Fourth of July, when he’s treated with even more respect than usual because he spearheaded the rescue efforts.

My reverie is interrupted by the strident clip-clop of hooves crossing the threshold into our little house. Sylas’s cheeks bunch in an indulgent smile when he catches me rubbing the swell beneath my loose tunic.

“How are my two loves?” His smile crinkles the skin at the edges of his warm umber eyes as he moves my laptop off the bed and stretches out beside me.

“Didn’t they teach you how to count when you were in Area 51? Me, little fawn, and Tot-terrific. That makes three.”

“Sorry, Tot.” He doesn’t need to raise his voice to call the dog because Tot’s been with him all day and is stuck like glue to my favorite guy. If he didn’t have a name already, I’d name him Velcro.

“Ready to celebrate?” I beam at him, covering his large hand with my own over our child. “I think little fawn is excited about the fireworks, too. He or she has been doing somersaults all afternoon.”

From the beginning, we told the docs we didn’t want to know the sex. We’re excited to have a surprise.

Concern flashes across Sylas’s face. “Somersaults? You’re not in pain, are you?” His handsome face is tight with concern as he grazes his palm, whisper-soft, across my belly.

“Just letting me know how eager it is for the fun. Like its father!” I chuckle.

Sylas grins, then scoots down to nuzzle his cheek against my belly. “You hear that, little one? We need to take it easy on Mama. She’s doing very important work to keep you safe in there.”

When he places a tender kiss just below my popped-out navel, my heart clenches with emotion. My guy is going to be the best father ever. Our baby is so lucky! Warmth gushes through me as I think of all the joy I have in my life.

When Tater Tot and I are alone, I often whisper my thanks that the goodest boy in the world decided to be a brat all those months ago when he climbed under the fence to invade America’s most Top-Secret facility.

“We should get a move on. It’s almost dark.” Sylas kneels beside me, unceremoniously sweeping me into his arms before I can object. “We’re not missing the show! Noble is saving us a spot.”

I loop my arms around his strong neck, nestling against his chest as Sylas lopes out the door into the balmy summer night. His enhanced night vision and sure footing carry us swiftly through the woods until we reach a moonlit clearing on a ridge overlooking the lake.

Most of our friends are already sprawled across blankets or sitting in lawn chairs, greeting us with delighted shouts when Sylas eases me atop a plush quilt near the makeshift stage where Colonel Slater waits to give an inspirational speech about freedom and new beginnings.

Sylas settles behind me, tucking my back against his broad chest, our joined hands resting protectively over our unborn baby. Joy bubbles up inside me as the show begins, colorful sparks raining down around us like glittering confetti.

Here, surrounded by love and magic with my little family and dozens of friends, I’m certain that no matter what surprises the future brings when the splicers share their extraordinary existence with the world, our happily ever after is assured. Sylas presses smiling lips to mine, a promise of forever in his kiss, as we celebrate under the beautiful starry sky.

THE HYbrID’S HEART is part of the Mated to the Monster multi-author Series. Each book is a standalone story and you can read them in any order.

To get all of the books:

MATED TO THE MONSTER

a monster romance series

MAID FOR HER SNOW BEAST by Evangeline Priest

SATYR’S MATE by Maggie Mayhem

BONDED BEYOND BELIEF by Ember Davis

THE MANTICORE’S MATE by Andie Fenichel

MATED TO THE MINOTAUR by Karla Doyle

MATED TO THE DRAGON by Ava Ross

MATED TO THE SWAMP MONSTER by Honey Phillips

THE HYbrID’S HEART by Alana Khan

MATED TO THE GARGOYLE by Lisa Carlisle

THE KRAKEN’S KISS by Matilda Martel

FATED TO THE PHOENIX by Debra Elise

MILK AND HONEY by Vera Valentine

SASQUATCH LOVE SPELL by AC Ruttan