Page 32 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

I did not have an answer for her. It wasn’t fair. It was cruel and senseless, far beyond my power to fix for her, and I hated that there was nothing I could do.

“Éanna wants to try again right away. He keeps saying these losses happen sometimes, we have to keeptrying, but he still doesn’t know about yours. He doesn’t know that I might be… wrong inside. And I am scared he will regret marking me when he realizes that I might not ever give him children.”

“Éanna has loved you since we were children, Orlaith. Trust me, I tried to dissuade him from it often enough to know that his feelings are unquestionable and beyond all reproach,” I reassured her. I allowed some of those old feelings of exasperation to bleed into my tone and was relieved when she made a soft snort of amusement.

Orlaith loosened her arms around me, and I let her go so she could step back. She kept her face down as she wiped her tears thoroughly before looking up at me.

“Thank you. And I’m so sorry, Sage, I didn’t mean to tarnish your first meeting with your nephew. I know this might be a little… strange for you too,” she pointed out, watching me curiously.

She still wanted to know how I felt, but I was not about to add my uncertainties to her burden of losses. There were other people in my life to whom I could bring those things. I would not dump them at her feet when she was so much more affected by the miscarriage.

“You did not tarnish anything. We were friends before anything else,” I reminded her sincerely.

Orlaith nodded, her head still cocked as she eyed my face in the way I knew meant she was trying to see into my head. She had so often berated me for my reticence, and while she’d definitely been right about it, she was no longer the person with whom I needed to be more open.

“Have you told Ornella?” she asked, almost as if she had seen my unbidden thoughts as they manifested.

“No. There has not been time, and I’m not really sure it is something I want to discuss with her,” I admitted, turning my head toward the tent entrance.

“Why?” she asked, instead of taking the hint that I did not want to talk about my feelings with her either.

“I don’t know,” I lied, but I knew that the last thing I wanted to share with Summer was this: my great shame. She finally trusted me, and the thought of telling her that I’d abandoned my unborn child, even unknowingly, made me feel sick. I had no idea how she would react or if it would change the way she thought about me.

I could tell Orlaith was disappointed that I still clung to all those walls that we spent so many nights fighting over, but she eventually nodded.

“Alright, well please tell Shay I returned to myteine,” she bade, and I nodded. “And thank you again.”

I waited until she disappeared through the trees before finally returning to the front of the tent where Serafin had already curled up under a tree to wait. I smiled at him in reassurance when he gave a soft whine before I slipped inside the beaded tent entrance and out of the wind.

“Sage,” said my mother instantly, grabbing my elbow before I could even look around. She raised her brows, and at first I thought she was reprimanding me for being so late, but then I realized she was ensuring I was alright. Perhaps she had gone out to comfort Orlaith and had seen me with her instead. So I gave her hand a quick squeeze and offered her a smile to put her at ease before I looked up for my sister.

Shay was reclining against her trunk on a makeshift cot of cloaks and what looked like a wagon coverlet. Unfortunately, there had not been much thought given to making a new mother comfortable while everyone was packing our village in such a rush.

My niece, Rory, was tucked close to her mother’s side. They were both watching the healer, Orlaith’s sister Ivie, methodically tap the bottoms of my sister’s feet. I guessed Ivie was making sure that Shay still had full feeling in her lower extremities.

Rory’s mood brightened considerably when she saw me approaching them.

“Dapa Sage!” she cried, although Ivie raised a hand to prevent her from springing upright and jostling Shay.

“One-Eye,” I greeted my niece with the nickname I’d given her when she was a baby and prone to keeping just one eye closed. It still made my sister roll her eyes as I leaned over to kiss her forehead. Her hair was damp from labour, and I thought she seemed a little pale.

“Mama had another baby!” Rory informed me as she scrambled into my lap when I sat next to them. I hugged her and turned when she pointed to the corner where the midwife, Raquela, squatted with my sister’s mate, Verin. They seemed to be checking the premature baby while Ivie’s daughter, a healer in training, washed bloody rags in a basin next to them.

“Took you long enough,” said Shay, reclaiming my attention with her playful reproach.

“I’m sorry. You feel okay?” I asked her, unable to help feeling concern for her. I knew childbirth was difficult and dangerous, but my elder sister was always so strong and proud that it was unsettling to see her so exhausted.

“Oh, I’m fine now, but remind me not to ever go into labour in the middle of battle again, won’t you?”

“Yeah, that was not ideal timing for anyone, Shay,” Ivie teased as she pulled the blankets over my sister’s legs and around her waist. “You’re lucky Ornella found you.”

I looked at my sister for an explanation, but she had raised her head to Verin who was approaching with their new baby. The bundle was so tiny in his hands that it made my heart skip.

“Ronan, meet your Dapa Sage,” said Verin as he knelt next to me and Rory so I could look down at the little face that was still an unnerving reddish colour.

“Ronan,” I repeated, glancing up at my mother who now stood across my sister’s cot from me and brushed her hand affectionately through Shay’s damp hair.

“For my father,” she confirmed proudly, and I looked back at the baby in satisfaction. My maternal grandfather had been the only one in our family to actively encourage me to become a rider, and he’d demanded that Rian come home more to help me train. I missed him bitterly.

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