G’hir didn’t tear up but his expression showed that with Emma tucking the blanket around them both and leaning against him, he would be if he could.
Summer set the table as Emma told Ke’lar all about the movie he was already watching. He listened patiently to her as she talked about Belle and Gaston and gave a solemn human-style nod when she assured him that the Beast wouldn’t really hurt Belle’s father.
He dwarfed Uncle Lester’s dining table and twirling the pasta proved such a challenge for him that Emma insisted Summer cut his spaghetti too. Emma talked a lot about her Granny Marthe, about watching TV and such, but it seemed that she hadn’t seen a whole lot of Dean during the visit.
Emma didn’t seem bothered by it but then again she’d seen so little of Dean in her short life she didn’t have any expectations of him either.
Ke’lar ate all Summer put on his plate, and seconds too, but he wasn’t saying much.
In fact, he wasn’t saying anything at all . . .
Summer chewed at the inside of her cheek as she gave Emma a quick bath. She struggled against the impulse to open the bathroom door and peek out to see if he was still there in the living room where she’d left him. In fact, she rushed Emma, who always liked to linger and play in the water, and got her bath done in record time.
She dried her daughter’s hair and watched Emma brush her teeth. As soon as she was dressed in clean pajamas she went racing out to the living room to Ke’lar.
His face lit with a smile when he saw them, but it was a strained one.
“This,” Emma began, settling in beside him again and starting the movie where they’d left off before supper, “is where Belle goes to Beast’s castle, but don’t be scared, okay?”
He gave another human style nod. He was careful around Emma, even while eating, not to show his fangs if he could help it.
Summer perched on the sofa with them. Ke’lar seemed to be watching the movie but his continued silence made her stomach clench.
Belle and Beast were in the middle of their waltz when Summer glanced down at Emma and smiled.
“She’s asleep,” she whispered.
“I know,” he rumbled softly, his glowing eyes on the child who snuggled with such complete trust next to him.
Mrs. Potts was just finishing her song as Summer picked up the remote to shut the movie off.
“I should put her to bed,” she said into the sudden, awkward silence.
“Let me,” he said when Summer bent to take Emma. His growl was low so as not to wake the child, a little pleading, as if this was his only chance to carry her.
His last chance to see her.
Summer’s throat tightened and she gave a nod.
He stood, holding Emma carefully as he would a tiny bird, to carry her to her bed. He was so tall he had to duck under the doorway, waiting as Summer turned the sheets down.
He placed Emma gently on the bed and Summer tucked the blankets around her. Summer smoothed back one of Emma’s curls, her fingers touching her daughter’s soft rounded cheek for a moment.
Ke’lar hovered just inside the doorway, his face ragged, then he turned abruptly, gone from the room with a g’hir’s speed.
Summer ran after him, scarcely remembering to shut the bedroom door in her rush.
When she reached the living room she saw he hadn’t left, vanishing into the night, as she’d feared but his back was to her, his shoulders tense.
“Ke’lar?”
“I should never have let her see me,” he growled. “I should have not have lingered here.”
Summer folded her arms, holding them tightly against the ache in her ribs. “Look, if you don’t want me—if you don’t want to be saddled with a kid—just say so, damn it. It’s not like it’s the first, or even the third time, I’ve heard it.”
“Want you?” He turned, his glowing eyes wild. “I want for nothing else than you.” His glance went toward the bedroom where Emma slept. “Than our daughter. But I cannot stay here on Earth.”
Summer reached for him but something in his expression made her hesitate her.
“I know that. We’ll go with you. To Hir.”
“No,” he growled.
She blinked. “You said you wanted us—”
“I do. More than anything. But you hated my world, hated being a g’hir’s mate.” His hands clenched at his sides. “I will not grasp my own happiness at the cost of yours.”
“I didn’t hate Hir . . . Okay,” she admitted, shutting her eyes briefly. “I did hate it there . . . at first. But things are different now.” She took a step closer. “If we were together, you and me and Emma . . .”
“You are willing to live there with me, on Hir, raise Emma there?” he asked sharply. “She has a father—a human father—here.”
Summer grabbed the papers from where she’d left them on the dining room buffet and shoved them at him. “Do you know what this is? This is an agreement—signed by Dean—that waives all parental rights to Emma.”
His glowing eyes blinked. “I do not understand what that means.”