Falls

Dhani’s whispered voice soothed Romulus in a way he had not known possible. Though he would not rush to call this peace, it was as close to peace as the grullo stallion had ever gotten. Soon, he thought, they might know peace — after the season concluded and they could vacate the crowded, dangerous central isle and find a home of their own. Romulus heaved a sigh, feeling the tension lessen across his shoulders and back, envisioning the future with Dhani and Aaslan at his side in a home where he could close his eyes without fearing a visit from a hungry predator.

”Baba,” piped a small voice from Dhani’s other side. Romulus’s eyes flickered open and briefly met those of his mate before casting down his blue gaze to the colt. A tentative smile spread across his whiskered lips as the young boy stuffed himself into the very small space between his parents. He shifted so that Aaslan could fit, then pressed himself lightly against the child, sandwiching him between himself and Dhaniyā. Aaslan wiggled for a brief moment against his side, until the warmth from his parents seemed to lull him to sleep. Romulus felt the little ribcage rise and fall, slower and slower as the colt dozed off, supported by the grullo stallion’s sturdy frame.

When Dhani spoke again, Romulus raised his pale gaze from his son to meet hers again. ”Is this what you expected being a father would be like?” she asked. Romulus rolled the question around in his mind for a few moments. His role model for fatherhood had been questionable at best, but Romulus had been very aware of Dexter’s flaws since he was a colt, and had never exactly looked up to him as a shining idol of good parenting. In truth, Romulus had simply never expected to be a father. It didn’t seem to make Dexter happy, and Romulus did not love the man he himself had grown into under Dexter’s care, so he assumed it would just be better if he never continued the cycle. It had not occurred to him that he could change — that he could not only have a family, but give them a better life than he had.

“No,” he said thoughtfully after digesting memories of his upbringing for a moment. “I never knew my mother, and my father was not a nurturing man. I always knew it wasn’t supposed to be so cold, but I also never knew anything else.” He fell silent, and his gaze flickered briefly over to where Cerosi was standing in stoic silence. She had suffered more at the hands of their father than he had, and he suspected her scars ran deeper. Had he gotten lucky? He certainly was fortunate to still have his mate at his side; so much could not be said for his sibling. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, but he knew what she would say about it if he ever tried to comfort her. She would not accept his pity, so he forced it out of his mind. Easily enough, especially when he focused on the little sounds Aaslan made his sleep.

“I’m glad it’s not what I expected,” he said, looking back into his sunset lover’s finely chiseled face. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.” Romulus pressed his painted muzzle against Dhaniyā’s dark lips, breathing softly against her velvety skin, before arching his neck down to ruffle Aaslan’s fluffy mane, gently enough so as not to wake him. The rest of the world melted away around them, and only his mate and child existed for Romulus in that moment.