Chapter 12

TWELVE

S ayer settled into the plush couch, creating a cozy nest of blankets around him and Vienna. The toddler’s hazel eyes, so much like her mother’s, widened with wonder as the vibrant opening scene of “Coco” illuminated the room. Sayer couldn’t help but smile at her reaction, his heart swelling with a mix of affection and bittersweet nostalgia.

As the story unfolded, Sayer found himself drawn into the colorful world of the Land of the Dead. The themes of family, memory, and legacy resonated deeply within him, stirring emotions he’d long kept buried. He watched Miguel’s journey with growing empathy, seeing parallels to Vienna’s situation that he hadn’t anticipated.

When Miguel sang “Remember Me” to his great-grandmother Coco, Sayer felt a lump form in his throat. The poignant melody spoke of a love that transcended death and connections that remained unbroken even when separated by the veil between worlds. He thought of his brother and best friend, Dune, and the bond they’d shared for centuries. The pain of that loss, still raw and aching, surged to the surface.

Sayer glanced down at Vienna, relieved to see her entranced by the music, oblivious to the emotional turmoil brewing within him. Her tiny hand clutched at his shirt, and he was struck by the realization that she, too, had lost her parents. She’d have no memory of them. Would she feel the ache of their absence as she grew older?

As Coco’s memories of her father returned, triggered by the power of music and love, Sayer felt a tear escape, trailing down his cheek. He thought of all the memories Vienna would never have with her parents – the lullabies never sung, the bedtime stories never told, the milestones that would pass without their presence.

“Thank the stars Fia isn’t here to see this,” he muttered, quickly wiping away the tear. The irony wasn’t lost on him – the mighty lion shifter, a creature of strength and power, brought low by an animated children’s movie. He could almost hear his sister Posey’s teasing laughter, but beneath it, he knew she would understand.

In that moment, watching the joyful reunion on screen while holding the orphaned child of his brother, Sayer made a silent vow. He would ensure that Vienna grew up knowing her parents’ love even though they couldn’t be there to show it themselves. He would be the keeper of their memories, the bridge between the family she’d lost and the one she was building now.

As the credits rolled, Sayer hugged Vienna closer, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. “Your papa and mama loved you very much,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “And they’ll always be with you, just like in the movie. I’ll make sure you never forget that.”

Vienna looked up at him, her innocent eyes wide and trusting. In them, Sayer saw a flicker of his brother, a spark of Myla, and the promise of a future filled with love and remembrance. The mighty lion shifter may have been brought low by a cartoon movie, but in doing so, he’d found a new strength – the strength to keep a family’s legacy alive through love and memory.

The sound of keys in the lock drew Sayer’s attention. He straightened up, composing himself as Fia entered, her cheeks flushed from the evening air and her eyes bright with laughter.

“Hey,” she said softly, mindful of the sleeping Vienna. “How was your night?”

Sayer opened his mouth to respond, but his words caught in his throat as Fia approached, holding out a colorful ceramic mug.

“I, uh, made this for you,” she said, a hint of shyness in her voice. “At girls’ night. I hope you like it.”

Sayer took the mug, his fingers brushing against hers. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he had to fight the urge to pull her close and claim her lips with his own. The mug was adorned with playful lion cubs, their golden manes reminiscent of his own shifter form.

“It’s perfect,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “Thank you, Fia.”

She beamed at him, and Sayer felt his heart skip a beat. How had this woman, in such a short time, managed to burrow so deeply into his heart?

The next few days brought a whirlwind of new experiences for Sayer. He’d lived for centuries, run international hotels, and faced down formidable foes, but nothing had prepared him for the chaos of life with a toddler.

The next morning, Sayer padded into the kitchen, his lion senses immediately tickled by an odd combination of smells - sweet cinnamon, milk, and... was that defeat? He rounded the corner and stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping at the sight before him.

Fia stood in the center of what could only be described as a breakfast war zone. She was covered head to toe in a thick, goopy substance that Sayer assumed was once oatmeal. Globs of it clung to her hair, forming a haphazard, lumpy tiara. Streaks of the stuff painted her face like some sort of tribal warrior preparing for battle. Her shirt, once a cheerful yellow, now resembled a Jackson Pollock painting - if Pollock had worked exclusively in shades of beige.

In the midst of this chaos sat Vienna, perched in her high chair like a tiny queen on her throne. She was giggling and clapping her hands with unbridled glee, clearly delighted with the havoc she’d wreaked. A few cereal pieces stuck to her cheeks gave her the appearance of a chipmunk mid-snack.

“I swear,” Fia said, attempting to blow a strand of oatmeal-covered hair out of her face, only to have it stubbornly cling to her forehead, “I turn my back for two seconds. Two! It’s like she’s got some sort of mess-making superspeed!”

Sayer laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Well,” he managed between chuckles, “I always heard breakfast was the most important meal of the day. I just didn’t realize it was meant to be worn rather than eaten.”

Fia shot him a look that was part exasperation, part amusement. “Oh, you think this is funny, do you? Just wait until it’s your turn, Mr. ‘I’ve-run-international-hotels-how-hard-can-a-baby-be?’”

“Here, let me help,” Sayer offered, grabbing a towel and approaching Fia with the caution of a man facing down a wild animal. “Though I’m not sure if I should start cleaning or just call a restoration specialist. This might qualify as a new form of art.”

As he helped clean up the mess, wiping globs of oatmeal from surfaces he didn’t even know could be reached by a toddler, Sayer marveled at Fia’s ability to handle the situation with such grace and humor. She even managed to make oatmeal-chic look somewhat appealing.

Later that week, karma came for Sayer in the form of a diaper change. He stood at the changing table, Vienna wriggling before him like a tiny, uncooperative contortionist. The smell hit him first - his enhanced shifter senses making him regret every life choice that had led him to this moment.

“How does something so small produce so much... output?” he muttered, holding his breath as he tackled the task. He fumbled with the diaper, trying to remember the instructions Fia had given him. Was it tabs first, then legs? Or legs first, then tabs? And why were there so many snaps on this onesie? It was like trying to disarm a bomb while wearing oven mitts.

Fia leaned against the doorframe, amusement dancing in her eyes as she watched the mighty lion shifter dry-heaving over a soiled diaper. “Welcome to parenthood, lion boy,” she teased. “Not quite the savannah, is it?”

Sayer turned to her, a pleading look in his eyes. “I’ve negotiated company takeovers easier than this. How do you make it look so easy?”

Fia chuckled, pushing off the doorframe to come to his rescue. “Years of practice folding origami,” she quipped, deftly managing the diaper change in what seemed like seconds.

As they finished cleaning up Vienna, who was now cooing contentedly, Sayer shook his head in amazement.

Fia patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. And if not, well... I hear lions are pretty good at adapting to new territories.”

Sayer groaned at the pun, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips. As challenging as this new life was, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Even if it meant becoming an expert in the art of diaper warfare.

Despite the challenges, Sayer found himself reveling in the small victories. The first time Vienna clearly said “Hi” and “Bye” he and Fia celebrated as if she’d won a Nobel Prize. And when Vienna’s magic seemed somewhat controlled, creating tiny sparks of light that danced around her crib, Sayer felt a surge of pride unlike anything he’d experienced.

But as the days wore on, a new challenge emerged. Vienna began having trouble sleeping through the night, and she would only settle when Fia held her. Sayer watched helplessly as Fia grew more exhausted each day, dark circles forming under her eyes.

“Let me take her,” Sayer offered one night, reaching for Vienna as she wailed in Fia’s arms.

Fia shook her head, swaying gently with the crying toddler. “It’s okay. She’ll settle soon. If you hold her she’ll only get louder.”

But as the nights wore on and Fia’s exhaustion deepened, he had to do something. He began taking Vienna for long walks in the park during the day, hoping to tire her out. He read her stories, played with magical toys, anything to give Fia a chance to rest.

One afternoon while Fia napped, Sayer took Vienna to the Lone Wolf Café. Celeste greeted them with a warm smile, her own belly swollen with impending motherhood.

“Rough nights?” she asked, noting the fatigue in Sayer’s eyes.

He nodded, explaining the situation. Celeste and Kade exchanged a knowing look.

“We’ll send over some meals,” Kade offered. “One less thing for you to worry about.”

Sayer felt a rush of gratitude for the community they’d found themselves in. On the way home, he stopped to buy a bouquet of wildflowers for Fia.

That evening as Fia prepared for another long night, Sayer surprised her by drawing a bath.

“Take some time for yourself,” he insisted. “I’ve got Vienna.”

Fia’s grateful smile made his heart ache. As she soaked in the tub, Sayer entertained Vienna, teaching her a new word in secret.

The next morning as Fia stumbled into the kitchen, eyes heavy with exhaustion, Vienna pointed at her and clearly said, “Mama!”

Fia froze, her eyes widening in shock. Tears welled up and spilled over her cheeks. Sayer moved to her side, gently wiping away the drops with his thumb.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” Fia whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

In response, Sayer leaned in, brushing his lips softly against hers. It was a gentle kiss, full of promise and unspoken feelings. To his relief and joy, Fia didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, deepening the kiss for a moment before pulling back, a mix of wonder and uncertainty in her eyes.

As the sleepless nights continued, Sayer and Fia found themselves sharing quiet conversations in the early hours of the morning. He told her about his childhood and about being an almost two-hundred-year-old royal lion shifter.

“Wait,” Fia said, stifling a yawn as she bounced Vienna gently. “You’re telling me you were actually there for the Boston Tea Party?”

Sayer chuckled. “Not only was I there, I may have... encouraged it a bit. You should have seen the looks on their faces when a lion came roaring out of the shadows. They thought it was a sign from the heavens.”

Fia laughed, then winced as Vienna stirred. “I can’t believe I’m co-parenting with a living history book,” she teased.

As the night wore on, their conversation turned more serious. Sayer found himself opening up about his fears and dreams, and to his surprise, Fia reciprocated.

“I’ve never really had a serious relationship,” she admitted softly. “I guess I’ve always been too afraid to let anyone in.”

“Because of your family?” Sayer asked gently.

Fia nodded, her eyes distant. “Growing up in that house... it was easier to keep everything locked away inside. Safer.” She looked down at Vienna, stroking the sleeping toddler’s cheek. “I don’t want that for her. I want her to feel safe expressing herself, to know she’s loved unconditionally.”

Sayer reached out, taking Fia’s free hand in his. “She will,” he promised. “And Fia? I’m here if you ever need someone to listen. No judgment, just support.”

Fia’s eyes met his, a mix of gratitude and something deeper shining in their depths. “Thank you, Sayer,” she whispered.

The moment stretched between them, charged with unspoken emotions. Slowly, Sayer leaned in, giving Fia every opportunity to pull away. Instead, she met him halfway, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft and sweet, yet full of promise.

As the days passed, Sayer found his feelings for Fia growing stronger. He admired her beauty, of course - the way her hair caught the sunlight, the curve of her smile - but it was her strength and kindness that truly captivated him. He began to imagine a future where they raised Vienna together, a true family unit.

One afternoon, after a particularly rough night, Sayer found Fia passed out on the couch. Without hesitation, he scooped her up in his arms, marveling at how right she felt against his chest. He carried her to her bedroom, gently laying her on the bed. For a moment, he allowed himself to watch her sleep, his heart swelling with emotions he wasn’t quite ready to name.

Determined to do more, Sayer visited Ivy’s tea house, purchasing a blend of soothing herbs.

“This should help her relax,” Ivy said with a knowing smile. “And Sayer? Don’t wait too long to tell her how you feel. Life’s too short, even for an immortal.”

Sayer nodded, grateful for the advice but unsure how to act on it. How could he express his feelings without overwhelming Fia? She barely slept.

As he pondered this question, Vienna continued to surprise them with her magical progress. As they sat in the living room, tiny sparks of light began to dance around her, forming shapes that looked suspiciously like lions.

“Well,” Fia said, laughing as a spark tickled her nose, “I guess we know which side of the family she takes after.”

Sayer grinned, pride swelling in his chest. “She’s going to be a force to be reckoned with,” he said.

“God help us all,” Fia replied, but her tone was full of love.

The next morning, after another failed attempt to get Vienna to sleep through the night, Sayer and Fia found themselves collapsed on the couch, exhausted but oddly giddy.

“I never thought I’d be so excited about three consecutive hours of sleep,” Fia mumbled, her head lolling against Sayer’s shoulder.

Without thinking, Sayer wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. To his surprise and delight, Fia didn’t resist. Instead, she snuggled into his side, her body relaxing against his.

As Fia’s breathing evened out, indicating she’d fallen asleep, Sayer allowed himself to truly relax for the first time in weeks. The weight of Fia in his arms, the scent of her apple shampoo filling his nostrils, the soft sounds of Vienna’s breathing from the baby monitor - it all combined to create a sense of rightness, of home.

His lion, usually restless and prowling beneath the surface, settled contentedly. In that moment, Sayer knew with absolute certainty that he would do whatever it took to keep this. To keep them.

Pressing a soft kiss to Fia’s forehead, Sayer made a silent promise. He would support her in every way possible and be there for her and Vienna through whatever challenges lay ahead. They were stronger together, and he was determined to prove that to Fia.

As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the windows, Sayer allowed himself to drift off, still holding Fia close. They had a long road ahead, full of challenges and uncertainties. But for now, in this moment of peace, everything was perfect.