Mated to the Warrior Beast
Chapter 253 253: EPILOGUE Part 3 (Zev & Sasha)

If you like music while you read, try "Carry You" by Ruelle and Fluerie. It's been Zev and Sasha's song since Dark Alpha!

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~ ZEV (a year later) ~

Zev stood on the edge of the Valley of the Drums, right at the treeline, looking down into the bowl.

He had his arm around Sasha who stood at his side holding Zan's hand. Their son was walking—very determinedly—but barely. He couldn't keep his feet on uneven ground—or a slope like the one in front of them.

"Are you ready?" he asked Sasha.

She smiled and nodded, then swung Zan up to her hip. "Oof, he's getting heavy."

"Here, let me." Zev took him easily, smiling when Zan beamed and reached for him. "Da! Dah!"

"My boy," Zev said proudly, holding Zan high above him and tossing him once, which always made Zan squeal—then swinging him down and blowing raspberries on the thick, soft skin under his jaw.

Zan screamed with laughter. And Sasha watched on, laughing too. She always got a little nervous when Zev threw him, but she'd learned better than to try to stop him. It was how he played. Even in his wolf.

"'Gin! Da, 'gin!"

"Not again," Sasha said with the warning in her voice that Zev knew better than to defy."

"Mommy says not," he said, fake-pouting at his son. Then he stage whispered, "She's Alpha so we have to listen."

Sasha sighed as Zan gave a deep, vicious growl that turned immediately to laughter when Zev blew raspberries on his cheek.

"Okay, okay, enough. Please. Can we just get down there?"

Zev grinned at her, swinging Zan to his hip, then pulling her into his other side and burying his face under her jaw too, but this time to nip the sensitive skin there, then kiss away the goosebumps. "When this is done, I'll blow some raspberries on you if you want," he whispered against her throat.

Sasha giggled like a school girl, but pushed him away. "Behave!"

He flashed her a grin that felt real. Felt normal. And breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been a tough year. A tough life, if he was honest with himself. But now, a year after the last crisis, he was finally starting to feel… happy.

Oh, he'd been calm for a while. He'd given up his anger. And most of his fear—at least of the Anima. But there was still that nameless, faceless simmer of…. Something under his skin. He still awoke from nightmares sometimes.

There were still nights he couldn't relax unless he was outside with nothing over his back.

But more days than not, he woke with a smile—and an insistent desire for his mate. More days than not, he smiled when he saw his son, and if someone got snappy at the lunch table, he could laugh and joke until they relaxed.

More days than not he felt happy.

And today he felt particularly happy.

Today they were going to celebrate Zan's first birthday.

He was actually probably closer to fourteen months old than a year. But they couldn't know for sure. And so, they'd decided to celebrate his birthday every year on the Festival of Peace.

This would be the first one—the night everyone gathered at the market in the Tree City to feast and dance and remember that day, a year ago, when they'd all stood right at this spot, and forged peace.

A tenuous, uneasy peace. But a peace, nonetheless.

Zev could still break a sweat thinking about how close he'd come in those days to fomenting war with the Anima.

He still thanked the Creator every day that Sasha had stood her ground with him that day.

As they walked together, hand in hand, down towards the center of the Valley he took several deep, slow breaths.

He'd been dozens of times before during the year for a variety of reasons. But today… today was to remember. And to talk to his son, to celebrate his birthday. Today felt… important. And so the memories weighed heavier.

As they walked, he looked down at his son, little chubby legs sticking out around Zev's middle, one hand fisted in Zev's shirt, but his head—complete with mop of thick black hair that wanted to stick in fifty different directions no matter how much water his mother used to slick it down—his round head was turned to look in the direction they were going, curious because there was nothing there.

"He's not going to understand any of this," Zev muttered to Sasha.

"You might be surprised. He might be physically slow, Zev, but mentally? Jayah thinks he's as smart as they come. She was surprised, because she always thought the shifters developed mentally faster as well. I'm wondering if they're just better educated," she said dryly.

Remember back to the normal high school lessons Zev had endured for a couple of years, he wouldn't doubt it. He'd already been functioning as an adult for a couple of years when the humans threw him into a "normal life" to see how he'd function.

No wonder he'd stood out like a sore thumb.

Sasha snorted. He must have said that out loud. "You stood out because you were stunning and funny and charismatic and… not normal, Zev. But in all the best ways."

He smiled down at her then, thanking God for her too.

She'd known him since those awful high school days.

She'd seen him at his worst, and at his best. She'd challenged him, and loved him, and… been the best mate a male could ask for.

He didn't deserve her. But damned if he wasn't going to make the most of it, anyway.

He considered putting Zan down so there was more room to hold her closer, but Zan struggled to keep his feet on hills. And even though this one was grassy, he didn't want to risk his son deciding to run, then faceplanting.

Zev knew that there had to have been a day when he was equally unsteady on his feet, but because he had no memories of being unable to access his wolf—running on all fours, leaping heights, fighting—he couldn't imagine it.

And apparently the shifters' human forms developed faster than normal humans as well—all that running around on all fours and being mobile almost from birth, he supposed.

He hurt for his son sometimes, especially when Zan was trying to keep up with his peers, squealing and crying as they all shifted and ran, heedless of his chubby, slow stumblings behind them.

It broke his heart.

Sasha reminded him that none of them would remember these days. But what was it going to be like for him when he was eight? Twelve? Sixteen?

Would he always be the slowest? The weakest?

Zev tried not to worry about it too much. Zan was smart. And strong. Determined. And loving.

He would get through this, however his life looked in the getting there, he would get through it. Which was exactly why they were there.

When they reached the bottom of the bowl, Zev stopped walking and turned a full circle, looking around and remembering… everything.

Zan looked too—as if he could remember it, even though that was impossible. He'd slept through most of it, and screamed through the rest.

Zev sighed and set his son down on the ground. Zan gripped the leather of his trousers, but stood, looking solemnly around, just like Zev had.

Sasha looked at him, a hint of concern in her eyes, but he just touched her face, then knelt down, holding Zan's hands so his son would face him.

"Hey, son, you listen to Daddy for a second, okay?" His throat was suddenly thick. He cleared it. Zan looked up at him earnestly, his bright blue eyes—just like Zev's own—crystal clear and piercing.

Sasha put a hand to his shoulder, and he patted it, but kept his attention on their son.

"Every year on your birthday, we're going to come here," he said simply.

Zan just watched him.

"Every year we're going to take just a few minutes to remember where we came from, and why, and how we got here. How… how we almost lost you. But because the Creator knew what we needed—and because your mom is a hardass—" Sasha slapped the back of his head.

He smiled, but kept going, "—and because… because I don't ever want you to make the same stupid mistakes that I did, we're going to come here and talk about what you need to remember for the next year okay?"

"Kay, Dah."

Zev sucked in a breath. He didn't know if Zan really understood him yet, or had just learned the correct responses, but he thought traditions needed to be in place before anyone remembered them. So…

He cleared his throat again.

"Okay, so… a year ago, I almost got us hurt," Zev said quietly. "I did that because I got angry, and when the feelings got so big I didn't know how to handle them, I just… pointed them at everyone. It was a really dumb thing to do. And I wish I hadn't. But… well, we'll talk about that in a few years. Here's your part of the deal.

Are you listening?"

"Yah."

Zev let his son rest a hand on his arm, then tapped his chest with a gentle finger. "Your job for your second year is… every time you want to yell, or cry, you try to ask for a hug first."

Zan blinked.

"Hugs?" Zev said quietly.

Zan held up his arms. "Uggs."

"That's right. Hugs. Whenever your chest feels hot, or your eyes sting, you ask for a hug, okay?"

"Kay, Dah."

"Good boy. We'll come back next year and we'll have a new mission okay?"

"Kay, Dah."

Swallowing a pinch of his own, Zev reached out his own arms. "Can I have a hug now?" he said, his voice a lot hoarser than he'd meant to be.

"Uggs! Uggs, Dah!" his son lifted his little chubby arms. Zev picked him up and put him to his shoulder, holding him tightly and breathing in his precious scent, while Sasha watched on, hands on her mouth and eyes swimming in tears.

'Zev, that was…'

'I know he can't really understand, but—'

'No, Zev. Seriously… that was perfect.'

'You're perfect.'

She rolled her eyes and stepped in, hugging both of them together. And as Zev curled his arms around her too, and their son was pressed between them, his heart broke open in the best way.

It was a happy day.

And he was blessed beyond all reason.

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