第3章

All six eggs split open before dawn.

What crawled out were six baby boys. They had golden slit pupils, small soft black horns at their temples, and tails of different colors trailing from their lower backs.

They didn't wail like ordinary newborns. Instead, they reached for me in perfect unison.

The first to hatch mumbled a single word. "Mama."

I froze.

He crawled across the blood-soaked blanket and licked the cut on my finger with his tiny forked tongue. The sting vanished, and the wound slowly closed before my eyes.

I kicked the frying pan into the corner and held him.

"Okay." I was crying so hard my voice broke. "I'll raise you."

I gave the six children names.

The eldest was Asher. He was the quietest and the first to learn how to care for his brothers. Blake had the worst temper; he bared his teeth at anyone who touched me. Caleb rarely spoke but could sense the emotions of everyone around him. The twins, Dylan and Eli, loved to squeeze into cabinets and under beds. The youngest, Finn, had a pale golden tail and the weakest body.

Each of them had a different ability. Asher could steady the fire in the hearth. Blake's scales were the hardest. Caleb could hear my heartbeat through a wall. When Dylan and Eli got nervous, fog or rain would fill the cabin. When Finn sneezed, the dead mint in the flower pot would sprout new leaves.

For three years, I raised them on my night-shift wages from a small supermarket in Blackpine.

The cabin windows stayed covered year-round. I converted the basement into their playroom. We had only three rules: no tails in front of outsiders, no using abilities, and when you hear me knock seven times on the wall, hide right away.

Whenever there was only one piece of meat on the table, Asher would cut it into seven portions. Finn ate the slowest. Blake would be so hungry his tail wrapped around the chair leg, but he'd still push his share over.

"I'm not hungry," he'd say, and his stomach would growl immediately.

The other five would burst out laughing.

I'd laugh too, then turn to collect the plates and wipe away tears when they couldn't see.

They never asked about their father. Whenever they brought up New York, I'd change the subject. Eventually, they stopped asking.

When I had a fever, the six of them would shift into arm-length snakes and coil around me one after another, trying to keep me warm. Every morning, I'd wake to find six little heads crammed onto the same pillow.

One winter, I couldn't afford enough meat. While I was working the night shift, the six of them snuck into the pantry and boiled the last two cans of beans into a thick mush. Asher declared with perfect seriousness that it was a surprise. Finn, though, was caught licking an empty meat can, and all five of his brothers clapped their hands over his mouth. We laughed for a long time that night. We were also hungry for a long time.

During those three years, we were always short on money and rarely full. But as long as all six were home, I never once considered giving them up.

On the other side of the world, Cassian's search had never stopped.

After the black-gold eggshell went dead, he began collecting records of anomalous geothermal activity, localized downpours, and missing children across the United States. He was certain the children had been born, because the golden threads on his palm would occasionally split into six, though each flare lasted only seconds.

Seraphina proposed screening for a new pureblood mate at a Council session.

"It's been three years. Even if that human is alive, she may not want to come back."

Cassian rejected the proposal before the entire assembly.

"No new selection will begin unless my mate is confirmed dead."

"What if she gave birth to half-human offspring?"

Cassian looked her in the eye. "They'd still be my heirs."

Evelyn's POV

That evening, I took the children out to gather firewood past the edge of town.

A cry for help came from the frozen river. A boy had broken through the ice, half his body already underwater.

"Stay here!" I grabbed Asher. "Someone else will help him."

But there was no one in sight. The boy's voice was fading.

Asher looked at me, then at the river.

"Mom, what if nobody comes?"

The next second, he tore free of my grip and ran.

The ice cracked again. Asher's eyes flashed to golden slits. His tail slid out from beneath his waistband, wrapped around the drowning boy's arm, and hauled him out of the water.

A neighbor standing on the bank had the whole thing on camera.