Only Him

Epilogue

Epilogue

5 years later

I crouched down and wrapped my son in a tight embrace, holding his small body against my own for as long as possible. I was content to stay here forever, memorizing the feeling of his warm body pressed tightly against my chest, hoping that the memory would last me for the next several weeks. My exasperated five-year-old had other plans.

"Mamma," Aleksey groaned, wriggling free of my grasp at last. "People are staring."

They were.

I was content enough to ignore them but my son was much like his father and didn't like to attract unnecessary attention. I didn't mention it now but it was very unlikely that he'd be able to avoid such attention here. Not only were his parents pretty legendary and his own existence still a marvel, but my five-year-old son was strikingly handsome.

He was the kind of kid that you did a double take of when walking down the street. Not that I was bragging or anything.

Okay, I was. A little.

My baby looked like a miniature version of his father and it tripped up my heart every time I looked at him.

Dimitri's large hand came down to cup Aleksey's shoulder before he could go too far.

"Say goodbye to your mamma, Leasha," he admonished gently. "You won't see her for a few weeks and you'll regret not doing so." Much to my chagrin, Dimitri had not informed me when we were choosing Aleksey's name that it did, in fact, have a weird Russian nickname. While I was known to call him Alek on occasion the true nickname for Aleksey was Leasha, which was ridiculous to me but Dimitri had fallen into the habit of calling our son that when he was feeling particularly fond of him.

It was hard not to feel that way today. It was Aleksey's first day at St. Vladimir's. Dimitri and I had debated long and hard on where to send our son for his education. My maternal side had wanted nothing more than my son close at hand and had wanted him to work with tutors at Court. The practical side of me— the part that knew one of the hardest lessons a guardian had to learn was independence and self-reliance—had seen the benefit of allowing him to attend school elsewhere. His life and family was already strange enough for a young dhampir and we wanted to give him some common ground with his would-be peers.

Aleksey had made the final decision when offered the choice between Court, Alder and St. Vlads. He wanted to go where his mother had gone, where his parents had met. I'd agreed partially because our story started there but mostly because Alberta was still Head Guardian on campus and promised to keep me completely apprised of my son's progress. And yeah, I was kind of proud to have my son walking in my footsteps, no matter how much of a bad example they might be.

While my son was like his father in many, many ways he definitely had some Hathaway genes, most prominent of which—even at the young age of five—were sarcasm and a certain proclivity for attracting trouble. He didn't look for opportunities to exercise these genetic gifts but he certainly knew when to use them.

"You behave yourself," I told him, pulling him back towards me and kissing him squarely on the forehead. When he pulled back a step I still managed to keep contact, reaching up to smooth back his dark hair, identical to my own, though cut in a sensible cap of hair that was easily manageable for his age. "Listen to your teachers and work hard."

"But make friends, too," Dimitri added, also coming to crouch at eye level. "Have fun here. You are here to learn but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it."

"I know, Dad," he agreed, giving his father a shy, understanding, smile.

How strange, I thought, that Dimitri and my roles are so reversed. Once upon a time I would have been the one giving Aleksey advice on socializing while Dimitri would have been pushing for good behavior. I guess we were both imparting the best advice we'd ever received from each other.