Chapter 162

We crested the final hill, and there it was.

The lion’s village. My first home. The place where everything had begun.

It looked smaller than I remembered, or perhaps I had grown. The walls were the same golden stone, stacked by hand and hardened by time. The gates were the same heavy wood. The markings above the entrance; the same proud lion scratched into the rock face, weathered but still visible. But I was different. We were different. And we were coming home.

The knight guarding the gate; a young man I didn’t recognize took one look at our group, at the white tiger and the silver wolf and the lion forms of my mates, and his eyes went wide with shock. Then recognition dawned, and he spun on his heel, running into the village shouting at the top of his lungs.

"They’re back! They’re back! Ravin and Leon and the lady Krys! They’re back!"

We didn’t even have time to dismount before she came.

Lisa.

She ran through the gates like a woman possessed, her black hair flying behind her, her dress hiked up above her ankles, her face a mask of desperate hope. She didn’t slow down. She didn’t hesitate. She crashed into us with the force of a storm, her arms wrapping around Ravin first, then Leon, then me, pulling us all together in a tangle of limbs and tears and laughter.

"My babies," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "My babies. You’re home. You’re actually home."

"Mother," Ravin rumbled, his own voice thick, his massive arms engulfing her.

"Don’t ever leave again," she commanded, her face buried in Leon’s mane. "Don’t you ever leave me again. I thought... I thought..."

"We’re here," I whispered, my own tears falling freely. "We’re home, Lisa. We’re home."

Then Raon appeared, moving more slowly but no less emotional. He embraced his sons with the gruff tenderness of a man who had never learned to express love easily but felt it deeply. Then he turned to me, and to my shock, he pulled me into a hug that was almost as tight as Lisa’s.

"You brought them back," he said, his voice rough. "You kept them safe. You brought them home."

"I did," I promised. "I always will."

Then the children surged forward, a wave of energy and noise that broke the emotional moment into delighted chaos.

"Grandma!" Levy shrieked, and before I could stop her, she shifted.

It happened in an instant. One moment she was a lion cub, furry and small. The next she was a little girl, black curls tumbling down her back, dark eyes sparkling, her face so perfect it seemed carved by divine hands.

Lisa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Raon made a sound like he’d been struck. Behind them, the villagers who had gathered to watch went silent, then began whispering, the sound rising like a tide.

"She’s... she’s..." Lisa couldn’t finish.

"Beautiful," Raon breathed, and there was awe in his voice, but also something else. Worry. "Too beautiful. Gods, she’s too beautiful."

Levy beamed, twirling in a circle, showing off her dress, her hair, her perfect little face. "Do you like me, Grandpa? Do you like how I look?"

"Yes, kitten," Raon said, but he was already moving, stepping in front of her, his large body blocking the view of the villagers. "But I need you to shift back now. Please."

Levy’s face fell. "Why? Don’t you like me like this?"

"I love you like this," he said gently, kneeling to meet her eyes. "But you’re... you’re very pretty, Levy. Very, very pretty. And the villagers... they’re looking. It’s distracting. They can’t help it. Please, shift back for now. For Grandpa?"

Levy considered this, her head tilting. Then she nodded. "Okay. For you, Grandpa."

She shifted back to her lion form, and Raon visibly relaxed, though he kept her close to his side, his hand on her back, his eyes scanning the crowd with the protective intensity of a lion guarding his pride.

It was only then that he noticed Theo.

The stonehorn boy had been hanging back, quiet and uncertain, his small horns barely visible above his head, his eyes wide as he took in the village, the lions, the chaos. He looked so small, so lost, so completely out of place.

Raon’s face darkened, his hand going to his weapon. "What," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "is a stonehorn doing with my family?"

"Raon," I said quickly, stepping between them. "He’s with me. His name is Theo. He’s... he’s a child. Just a child. His parents were... they were part of the enemy. They died. And he was forced to fight. I couldn’t... I couldn’t watch an innocent kid die because of his parents’ stupid decisions. He’s my family now. Ours. If you’ll accept him as well."

Raon stared at me, then at Theo, then back at me. The silence stretched, heavy and tense. Then Lisa stepped forward, her eyes soft as she looked at the small boy.

"He’s just a baby," she whispered.

"He’s about two years in beast form and about fifteen or sixteen in man form," I said. "And he’s a kind boy, very helpful. I feel as if a truck load of responsibilities have been lifted with Theo with me. he really lessen my work load."

Raon looked at Theo for a long moment. Then he sighed, a sound of resignation and something like respect. "You always did collect strays," he muttered to me. Then he raised his voice. "Well? Come here, boy. If you’re going to be part of this family, you’ll need to learn our ways. Starting with not looking so terrified all the time. We’re lions, not monsters."

Theo’s eyes went wide, then filled with tears, then with hope. He stepped forward, tentative, and Raon placed a hand on his shoulder, heavy but not unkind.

"Welcome home, stonehorn," he said. "Try not to break anything."

Then he turned to the crowd, his voice rising to a roar. "My children have returned! Safe and whole and with more grandchildren than I can count! We feast tonight! We celebrate! We welcome them home!"

The cheer that went up shook the walls.

---

The celebration was already being prepared when I slipped away to find my friends.

I went looking for my friends.

I found Layla in the market; her belly rounded with her second pregnancy. Her first child; a girl named Lira was clinging to her leg, staring at me with wide, suspicious eyes.

"She looks like Larry," I observed.

"She has his scowl," Layla agreed. "And his stubbornness. And his ability to find trouble in an empty room." But she was smiling, her hand resting on her stomach. "This one is Thorne’s. Different father, same chaos."

"Where’s Rhonda?" I asked, looking around for my other friend. "I went to her house, but it was empty."

Layla’s smile faltered, sadness creeping into her eyes. "She’s gone. She and Darius left for his home, by the sea. She wanted to have the cub there, near his family. Her whole family went with her." She paused, her voice dropping. "I miss her terribly. But she’s happy. She’s building a life there, with her mates, her children. She won’t be back for quite a while."

"I’m sorry," I said, squeezing her hand. "I know you miss her."

"I do." Layla took a breath, forcing her smile back. "But I’m happy too. I have Lira. I have this new one coming. I have my mates, my life here." She looked at me, her eyes bright. "And now you’re back. So I’m not alone anymore."

"You’re happy," I said. It wasn’t a question.

"I am." She hugged me, tight and fierce. "I didn’t think I could be. After everything. But I am. Both you and Rhonda ran away from me...but I’m still happy."

"I didn’t run," I protested. "I expanded."

"Same thing." She pulled back, her eyes serious. "Are you happy? Really?"

I thought of my mates, my children, the life we had built. The grief and the joy, the loss and the love. I thought of Lorian, and the promise I had made to live. I thought of Reona, and the forgiveness we had found. I thought of Alara, and the friendship that had grown from blood.

"I am," I said. "I’m home. And I’m happy."

And as the sun set over the lion’s village, as the celebration began and the laughter rang out and my children played in the streets where they had been born, I knew it was true.

---

The celebration lasted long into the night, but eventually the fires burned low and the guests drifted home. We made our way through the familiar streets, the children stumbling with exhaustion, the adults no less weary but carrying the warmth of homecoming in their chests.

Our house stood waiting for us, just as we had left it. The stone walls held the afternoon heat. The wooden door creaked on familiar hinges. Inside, the smell of herbs and home and memory enveloped me like a embrace.

The children dispersed to their rooms; what had once been spacious quarters now felt crowded with so many small bodies finding their places. I heard the thump of feet, the rustle of furs, the soft hissing of the snakes as Soryn settled them into their corner. The murmur of voices, the giggles, the sighs of children finally surrendering to sleep.

I stood in the main room, alone for a moment, and simply breathed.

Then I began to walk through my home, touching things I had forgotten I owned. A comb Lisa had given me, carved from bone. A shawl Ravin had brought back from a hunt, soft and warm. The first small tunic I had ever made for Atlas, impossibly tiny now, preserved in a chest with other treasures. A stone Caelion had found on the beach, smooth and dark brown, that he said reminded him of my eyes.

Each object held a memory. Each memory held a piece of my heart.

I went to the window, looking out at the village I had first come to as a stranger, frightened and clinging to Ravin. Now I returned as a mother, a mate, a woman who had known loss and love in equal measure. The circle of my life had brought me back here, but I was not the same person who had left. I was more. So much more.

The children were asleep now. The house was quiet. I walked to the room I shared with my mates, and there I stood in the moonlight, my hand resting on the gentle curve of my stomach.

Growing. Life moving and shifting inside me. Caelion’s child. A Mer baby who would need the ocean to be born, who would speak in silence and swim before walking. In a few months, we would leave again travel to Merena’s home by the sea, prepare for a birth unlike any I had experienced before.

And after that? More children shifting. More voices joining the chorus. More chaos, more love, more life.

I looked around the room, really looked, and realized with a start how small it had become. We had started with one room, one bed, one hope. Now we were a tribe unto ourselves. We needed space. More rooms, more beds, more of everything.

"We’ll have to expand," I said aloud.

"Yes," Caelion agreed, entering quietly, his hair still damp from washing the celebration from his skin. He came to stand behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders, his chin on my head. "The house, the family, our hearts. Everything grows."

"The baby," I whispered, his hands covering mine on my stomach. "We’ll have to leave soon. For the coast. For the water."

"I know," he said softly. "But not tonight. Not tomorrow. We have time."

"Do we?"

"Enough," he promised. "Enough to be here. Enough to be home."

I leaned back against him, feeling his warmth, his strength, the steady beat of his heart. Through the walls, I could hear the soft breathing of my children, the symphony of life we all had created together.

So many things were happening. So many changes coming. The baby. The shifting. The future unfolding like a map I couldn’t quite read.

But for now, in this moment, with one of my mate’s arms around me and my children safe in their beds and the moon shining through the window of the home we had built from nothing, I was content.

I was home.