Page 167 of Seer Prophet

Within five of those first ten or so minutes, I already knew there was no way in hell I was going to let her stay alone in that cell without us, no matter how many plush toys they gave her or fuzzy, whale-covered blankets or green, mossy couches that looked like they came out of an old-fashioned cartoon.

Next to me, Revik had chuckled at my grumpy protectiveness, even then.

I remembered seeing him wipe more tears with the back of his hand, but really, the main thing I saw on his face was joy, a kind of wordless, awe-filled joy I’d never felt on him before. Impulsively––and yeah, a little reluctantly, too––I’d eventually handed Lily to him directly, plopping her unceremoniously on his lap.

Instead of curling his arms around her the way I had, he just sat there with her that first time, looking at her face. He’d been smiling, but after a few seconds, I realized he was letting her come to him.

She had, too.

It hadn’t even taken her all that long, really.

Hoisting herself up into a sitting position and staring at his face with those serious, clear-as-glass eyes, she looked at him for what seemed like a long time without blinking.

Then my vision blurred again when she crawled up to his chest, pulling herself up by gripping his shirt so she could stand on his legs.

She’d looked him directly in the face.

He hadn’t moved. He just sat there, looking back at her, unsmiling that time. His light had been more open than I think I’d ever felt it.

I’d continued to watch as Lily reached out to touch his face with her hands. She’d gripped his hair, then his jaw, where he still had some five o’clock shadow scruff from not shaving that morning, then his arm.

I hadn’t fully realized none of us had spoken until she broke the silence, still looking somberly into his eyes.

“Are you my other daddy?” she’d asked.

Her voice was as serious as her eyes.

I remember feeling pain in my chest from her words, hot enough to cut off my breath, and woven into a flood of protectiveness that felt a lot more like anger. Realizing she must have heard that term from Terian and Cass didn’t help. Even then, they’d been grooming her to accept Revik as a parent, maybe alongside Terian.

Clearly, I was never meant to be in the picture, though.

Revik glanced at me at the time, as if realizing the same thing.

To Lily herself, he never flinched.

Still holding her gaze, he made a “more or less” gesture with his hand. When she frowned, he’d answered her question aloud, his voice just as serious.

“I’m your only father,” he said simply.

As if unsure if he should go on, he gauged her face. For a few long-feeling seconds, both of us watched her think about his words.

Lily had looked at me then, still clinging to the front of Revik’s shirt.

Her eyes turned briefly wary again as she looked me over, but I saw the conflict there clearly that time. I also felt a denser grief in her light. I felt that grief and conflict strengthening, even just from our sitting so close to one another.

That connection we all shared shone brighter than her fear. It was like a multicolored thread woven between and into the highest portion of all three of our lights.

I felt love in that thread, even then.

I felt it from her, and it poured out of me with such intensity I saw her blink a little, right before that wariness in her eyes faded.

Tears rose to those giant eyes a second time.

She reached out to me with her free hand, clutching air, asking to be held.

And yeah, I think some part of me died in those few seconds.

Even now, remembering that moment––the moment I realized it might really be all right, that Lily wouldn’t hate me forever because of Cass––a bare glimpse of that feeling could still fill me with so much, I honestly didn’t know how to express it.

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