Never. Fucking. Again

Saracyn knew Scylla would be due to give birth any day now. He'd been keeping a close eye on her ever since he'd learned she'd conceived and was carrying his children within her belly. A primal part of Saracyn's brain demanded he keep close to her, keep her safe and satisfied while she grew their pups, despite the obviously oppositional wishes of the independent Klein fae. He couldn't help it! Sara found he quite liked the idea of being a father, and those paternal instincts drove him to want to provide for the fae who was carrying his children. He wanted to take care of his woman. Except... Scylla wasn't his woman. She wasn't his mate. She was the surrogate for him and Avacyn, a fact he had to catch himself on time and again when he found himself hovering over Scylla. The past few weeks had been a delicate balancing act between maintaining his normal life with Avacyn and playing the role of protective sire to Scylla and their pups. It was all very confusing for Sara to manage, yet somehow he did. The prize at the end of this journey was worth all the effort and uncertainty he was required to handle.

As he had predicted, one mid-autumn day while he and Avacyn were rearranging the bedding for their upcoming pups again, one of Scylla's bush dogs came to find them in their den. Sara looked up and made eye contact with the canine, the dog giving a needy huff in his direction. Saracyn instantly understood the meaning of it. The crimson brute wasted no time dropping everything he was doing and rushing with Avacyn down to Scylla's den. Fucking hells, why did she have to live across the damned island?! When they arrived at the den, the dog stood guard outside, making it clear they were to enter. Sara didn't hesitate to duck down into the den, hurrying inside. The immediate scent of blood and milk hit his nose, and moments later the quiet mewling of fresh puppies reached his ears. Saracyn's world stopped when his eyes fell upon the sight of Scylla, bloated and exhausted, with three newborn puppies nursing at her belly. Their puppies. His children. He was a father!

Sara's mouth hung open in a silent gasp, cerulean eyes wide as he studied the three pups one at a time. Two were notably smaller than their larger sibling, with one distinctly looking like Scylla while the others took their colors from their Mendacium roots. Behind him, he heard Avacyn entering the den as well. As she got to see the pups for the first time, Saracyn was already moving over to Scylla, checking on her to make sure she was okay. Birth was a taxing process for a woman, and it had nearly killed Avacyn. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable and cared for. Moving around to lay down beside Scylla, the Mendacium brute watched up close as their pups fed hungrily. He wanted to reach out and touch them so badly, but a fear of disturbing or hurting the little nuggets stayed his paw. "Scylla..." Saracyn's words drifted off on his breath, the brute still reeling from the realization that he was a parent now. They had done it! After all this time and heartbreak, they had done it! But it had been all thanks to the little fae he was currently sitting guard over, and the only words he could think to say were so woefully inadequate for what she had done for them. "Thank you."

"Saracyn Mendacium"