Chapter 38
It’s late, the kind of night where the world feels like it’s holding its breath. The healer arrives in the quiet, her silver hair braided with care, and her presence is a strange sort of calming force. She steps into the room with a serenity that only amplifies the tension in my chest. The weight of what’s coming – what’s already here – makes the air feel thicker, almost suffocating.
Her eyes meet mine as she enters, and for a moment, we just look at each other. The silence between us hums, and then she smiles, soft and knowing. “This won’t take long,” she murmurs, her voice low and steady. “Please, sit.”
I do as she asks, my body too stiff to feel entirely at ease. My palms press against my knees in a feeble attempt to ground myself. But the moment her hands hover above my stomach, a faint glow lighting the air, my pulse starts to race. I can’t keep still, my nerves trembling beneath the weight of it all. The hum of her magic is warm and soft, and yet it only makes my heart beat faster.
The silence stretches on longer than I expect, and my anxiety spirals with every passing second. Suddenly I regret demanding that they guys all wait outside during this checkup.
“Is everything okay?” I blurt out, my voice unsteady. It’s a desperate question – one I don’t even know if I want the answer to.
Her eyes shift, a strange, quiet reverence flickering across her face. It’s not what I expected. Not concern, not caution, but something else. Something sacred.
“More than okay,” she says, her smile widening. But the weight of her words is what knocks the air from my lungs. “You’re carrying triplets.”
Triplets.
The word lands like a bomb in the centre of my chest, detonating every thought I’ve tried to hold onto. I feel the room tilt. My hands move instinctively to my stomach, and I stare at her in shock, as though I can’t fully comprehend what she’s just said. “Triplets?”
Her nod is slow, deliberate. “It’s a rare blessing, Malia. In Aerwyna, triplets are seen as a sign of divine favour. Sacred, even. They’re said to be destined for greatness, to bring unity and strength to the realm.”
Her words should comfort me. Should make me feel...something. But instead, the world around me blurs. Triplets. Greatness. Sacred. It all swirls together, and none of it feels real.
The healer squeezes my hand gently, a grounding touch. “You’re strong,” she says quietly, and her words carry weight. “You have a strong support system. You’re not alone in this.”
I barely register the rest of her words as she finishes her examination and leaves the room with a soft click of the door. Her departure only amplifies the quiet that fills the space, an eerie stillness that mirrors the churning thoughts in my head.
I sit there for what feels like an eternity, trying to make sense of it all, but nothing fits. Not until I hear the familiar footsteps of the guys outside the door.
Reef is the first to enter, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes scan the room before landing on me, and he doesn’t even have to ask. He can see it in my face. “What did she say?”
The words hang on the edge of my tongue, but they come out too softly, too uncertain. “I’m…I’m having triplets.”
The air goes thick with the weight of that revelation, and for a long moment, nobody speaks. Then Reef, ever the realist, lets out a low whistle. “Well, that’s…unexpected.”
His voice breaks the silence, but the shock doesn’t dissipate. I stare at them, my hands trembling in my lap, the reality of it all sinking in, with a force that feels almost unbearable.
Cove is next to speak, his grin spreading across his face like wildfire. “Three? That’s amazing!” His eyes are alight with something close to pure joy, his excitement palpable.
Bhodi, ever the one to hide his emotions, is quiet for a beat too long. He stands near the window, his gaze distant, pale beneath the dim light. Then, he lets out a soft chuckle, his voice barely a whisper. “Guess we’ll need to expand the nursery.”
I laugh, though it’s shaky and tight in my chest. My mind spins as their reactions echo around me, their ease only making me feel more...uncertain. The tension coils tighter in my stomach, twisting. How can they be so calm? So… okay with this?
I press a hand to my forehead, trying to steady myself. “You’re all so excited. How are you not terrified?” I ask, my voice shaking with a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
Reef’s face softens, his eyes steady and grounded. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “We are, Malia,” he admits. “But we’ve faced worse. And this? This is a good kind of terrifying.”
Bhodi crosses his arms, his stance solid, unwavering. “I’d take this over a Shadow Legion ambush any day,” he adds with a dry smile, but there’s something in his eyes – something that’s both relieved and unsure, the weight of the situation not lost on him either.
Then the door creaks open again, and my heart skips, just slightly. It’s Vance. His presence, solid and reassuring as always, fills the space in a way that calms my nerves just by being near. He takes a moment to survey the room, his dark eyes quickly locking onto me, reading my face like an open book.
The guys fall silent, their faces softening at his entrance. He doesn’t need to ask; he knows something’s changed.
I manage a shaky smile, but it fades as the full weight of the news presses down on me. “Vance…” I start, my voice breaking slightly, “I’m having triplets.”
His reaction is immediate, the kind of stillness that seems to steal the air. His eyes widen, his lips parting in a way that makes my heart skip. For a moment, I think he’s about to say something – anything – but instead, his gaze flicks to the others, searching their faces for some sign that this isn’t real.
“Triplets,” he says slowly, as if he’s trying to digest it himself. And then, unexpectedly, a smile breaks through – small at first, tentative, like he’s unsure whether he’s allowed to feel joy in the chaos. But it grows, and his next words come out raw, full of something deep, something real. “That’s...incredible, Malia. I—I didn’t know how badly I wanted this.”
My breath catches in my throat, and his words land with a punch, leaving me gasping for air. I didn’t realise how much I needed to hear him say it – wanted this – until he did. And in that moment, something inside me unfurls, like a flower reaching for the sun after too much darkness.
“You’re so loved, Malia,” Vance continues, stepping toward me, his hand finding mine. “You have never been alone, and you never will be. Triplets or not, we’ll face it all together.”
The weight of his words, combined with the strength in his eyes, overwhelms me. It’s not just the promise of support, of love – it’s the unspoken truth that no matter what happens, this is ours. Our journey. Our family. Our future.
I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand in mine, the presence of the others surrounding us. And when I open them again, I know that everything will change. But for the first time in a long while, I feel like maybe, just maybe, we’re ready.
“I love you,” I say quietly, but the words are enough to fill the room. They’re more than just an admission. They’re a promise.
Vance’s gaze softens, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles. “I love you too. Always.”
Before I can fully process it, Reef leans forward, his lips brushing against my cheek, his kiss lingering just a moment too long for comfort. The sudden tenderness makes my chest tighten, and my face flushes with heat. I turn to look at Cove, his hand already reaching for me, pulling me into a kiss that’s slower, deeper, a quiet promise in his touch.
And then Bhodi, standing closest to me, his eyes unreadable for a moment, presses a kiss to my forehead. It’s soft, tender, and feels like everything in one small gesture.
The room is silent, but the air between us crackles with something electric. I squirm in my seat, suddenly feeling too exposed, too vulnerable. This isn’t something we usually do, all of us, in front of each other. Their affection, so open, so raw, is overwhelming.
“I—I’m not sure how to feel,” I stammer, the tension thick on my tongue. It’s not discomfort, exactly, but the weight of their affection has me feeling flustered in a way I can’t quite explain.
“You don’t have to know yet,” Vance says, his smile warm and understanding. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”
And in that moment, I feel it – this bond between us, stronger than anything I’ve ever known.
The Council chamber feels colder than I remember, though the air is thick with unspoken words, the weight of expectation pressing in on me. The ancient stone walls, once comforting in their timeless solidity, now seem oppressive – watching me, judging me. I can feel their silent scrutiny, the way each carved pillar and tapestry seems to whisper of the rulers who came before me, of the burden I am about to bear.
Vance stands beside me, unwavering, a shield against the doubt threatening to creep into my bones. Today, he fights for my place. He’s come to argue my birthright – my destiny.
The long, polished table gleams beneath the candlelight, and I sit at its head, the seat that should belong to my mother. A seat I am about to claim. The eyes of the Council are heavy on me, their gazes filled with something between scepticism and expectation. Some of them have already decided my fate. Others wait, poised to be swayed.
The murmurs around the room fall into silence as Vance steps forward. His voice breaks the stillness, calm, deliberate.
“Malia is the rightful heir to the throne. The triplets confirm it – she carries the royal bloodline. The power that runs through her veins is undeniable. It is time for us to acknowledge what has always been true.”
The words echo in the chamber, settling over the Council like a declaration of war.
I hold my breath, resisting the urge to shrink back under their gaze. I try to meet each pair of eyes with confidence, but all I feel is the crushing enormity of what is being placed upon me.
A rustle of movement draws my attention. The healer rises. A woman who has been here longer than I can remember, whose wisdom carries the weight of decades. Her silver hair gleams in the firelight as she steps into the centre of the room, her footsteps slow and measured, her authority needing no announcement.
“The triplets have confirmed the royal bloodline,” she says, her voice soft but unyielding. “The magic, the power – it is written in Malia’s lineage. She is the heir to the throne, as was always meant to be.”
Her words land with an air of finality, but they are not met with immediate acceptance. Instead, a sharp voice cuts through the quiet.
“Blood is not enough.”
I shift my gaze to the speaker – Elder Rhys, a broad-shouldered man with silver threading his beard, his sharp eyes assessing me like I am a puzzle yet to be solved.
“Power alone does not make a queen,” he continues, folding his hands over the table. “Wisdom. Strategy. Strength. Leadership. These are what define a ruler.” He turns his gaze to Vance, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, Commander, has she proved herself capable of leading a kingdom?”
Vance’s shoulders stiffen, but he doesn’t hesitate. “She has led us in battle,” he replies evenly. “She has fought for this kingdom when others doubted her. She has trained beside us, bled beside us. She has earned her place.”
Rhys exhales through his nose, unimpressed. “Fighting a battle and ruling a kingdom are two different things.”
“And yet both require a willingness to sacrifice,” Vance counters.
A woman seated further down the table – Elder Elora, a known traditionalist – leans forward, her brows furrowed in concern. “It is not her willingness that is in question, but her preparedness.” She turns to me now, her sharp gaze pinning me in place. “Malia, do you believe you are ready to rule?”
The question strikes me like a blade.
Do I believe I am ready?
I open my mouth, but the words hesitate on my tongue. They expect certainty, confidence. They expect the answer their queen would have given without pause.
I am her named heir, but I am not her.
I swallow, forcing my voice to remain steady. “No ruler is truly ready until they bear the weight of the crown.” I let my gaze sweep across the Council, my heart pounding. “But I will not turn away from the duty that is mine.”
A murmur ripples through the room. Some nod in approval. Others remain impassive.
Elder Rhys leans back in his chair, unimpressed. “Words. And yet we have little time for promises and potential. The battle approaches. We need a leader, not a lesson in destiny.”
“Then who would you have lead?” Vance challenges, his voice edged with steel.
Rhys’s gaze flickers toward a figure seated at the far end of the table, one I have been avoiding looking at for the entirety of this meeting.
“Elder Dorian has trained for this since birth,” Rhys says smoothly. “Once the queen disappeared with no known heir, we knew we needed to take matters into our own hands. He understands courtly rule, diplomacy. He has the trust of the Council.”
Dorian does not speak. He does not need to. His very presence is a challenge, a reminder that there has always been another option.
Vance scoffs. “Dorian does not carry the gift.”
“Neither did many rulers before him,” Rhys counters. “Strength in leadership does not come from magic alone.”
My pulse pounds in my throat. This is the moment. The turning point.
I push back my chair and rise, my hands pressing into the table as I meet Rhys’s gaze head-on. “You question my ability to lead. Fine. But do not stand here and suggest that Dorian – a man who has never stood on a battlefield, never fought for this kingdom, never died for this kingdom – would be a better ruler, simply because he is familiar with court politics.”
A flicker of something – approval? – passes through Elder Elora’s expression.
Rhys does not look away. “You have power, yes. But what of the Council? Will you listen to us? Will you take our counsel, or will you rule by instinct and emotion?”
I lift my chin. “A wise ruler listens. A strong ruler decides.”
A beat of silence.
Then, the healer speaks again, her voice steady. “The triplets are a sign. A blessing. She is the heir, and the kingdom will rise beneath her rule.”
Another beat of quiet. Then, one by one, members of the Council nod.
Rhys does not. But he does not argue further.
Vance glances at me, the tension in his stance softening just slightly.
The decision has been made.
I am the heir.
The knowledge is a bitter pill to swallow, but I force myself to accept it. I force myself to breathe.
The battle looms ahead, its shadow stretching over us all.
As the Council disperses, I remain seated for a moment longer, my mind still reeling. Vance stands beside me, quiet, waiting.
Then, he speaks. “I’ll help you.” His voice is softer now, edged with something that sounds almost like pride. “We’ll face this together.”
I nod, inhaling deeply.
There is no time for fear. Not now.
Not ever.
In the days that follow, I throw myself into my training with a ferocity that surprises even me. Every strike of my sword, every conjured spell, feels like an affirmation that I can handle what’s coming. I focus, narrowing my world down to the present, to the preparation for the battle. But even in the stillness of my training, the weight of the coming war hangs over me. I feel it in my bones, in my magic, in the air around me.
Then, just when I think I’ve reached the limits of my focus, I receive an unexpected request.
Summer wants to meet.
The mention of her name alone sends a chill through my spine. The memory of what she has done, what she’s been a part of, burns fresh in my mind. Her boyfriends are Shikari. The very force threatens to destroy everything I care about. How could I possibly meet her now? How could I trust her after everything?
I can’t.
And yet, Vance pushes for it.
After much deliberation, after weighing the risks, he agrees to let me meet her. He says we need every advantage we can get. He says we can’t afford to dismiss any information.
So, against my better judgment, I agree to meet her.
Thanks to Vance gathering all the ingredients needed to make the portal last time, and ensuring we had extra in case of emergencies, he was able to create a portal right away.
We all gather at the beach back in the human realm. The sky above is heavy with dark clouds, as if the heavens themselves are bracing for what’s to come. The wind bites at my skin, the salty air mixing with the scent of earth and water. I stand at the edge of the water, watching the waves crash, trying to center myself. My heart beats faster as the moments tick by, each second bringing me closer to the confrontation I’m not sure I’m ready for.
Then, she’s there.
Summer.
Her appearance is startling. The girl I once knew – full of confidence, of certainty – now seems like a shadow of herself. Her face is pale, her eyes hollow, and there’s a tension in her posture, a fragility in the way she moves. She looks like someone who has carried the weight of a thousand secrets and is finally unraveling beneath them.
“I…I need to tell you everything, Malia,” she says, her voice trembling as she takes a hesitant step toward me.
I feel my fists clench at my sides, the anger simmering beneath the surface, but I force myself to listen.
Her words tumble out in a rush. “My parents. I found out they’re the leaders of the Shadow Legion. I overheard them making plans. They’re the ones behind everything. The war. The destruction. The attack. I felt like this was too important to just message.” She stops, looking at me with eyes filled with pain, guilt, and something else – remorse.
My breath catches in my throat. I want to scream, to lash out, but I force myself to remain calm, to listen to what she’s saying.
“And the therapy…” Summer’s voice falters. “The so-called ‘treatment’ you received. It was them. They were trying to break you, to force your magic to manifest, to use you for their own purposes. They thought if they could control your power, they could use it for their gain.”
I stare at her, disbelief mixing with rage. All this time, I thought I had been broken, that I had failed to manifest. But the truth – the truth – is that they were trying to force me. They were trying to control me.
I want to scream, to rage against the injustice, but when I look at Summer, I see only pain. The guilt that weighs on her is unbearable.
“I didn’t know,” Summer whispers. “I didn’t understand. I didn’t know how to stop them. I’m so sorry, Malia. I never wanted to hurt you.”
I take a breath, forcing myself to calm down. This isn’t her fault. She’s a victim, too. I can see it in her eyes, feel the rawness of her confession.
“No,” I say softly, stepping forward. “This wasn’t your fault, Summer. You were just another pawn in their game.”
Summer looks at me, tears pooling in her eyes, and I feel a flicker of something – something like empathy, like understanding. She’s not the person I thought she was. She’s not the enemy.
“I know you didn’t choose this,” I continue. “But forgiveness doesn’t come easily. It will take time.”
Summer nods, wiping her tears, her shoulders slumping with the weight of her own sorrow.
“I understand,” she says quietly. “But I will do whatever it takes to make it right. I’ll face my parents. I’ll confront them, whatever it takes.”
Her words settle over me, heavy and full of meaning. She’s willing to sacrifice everything, to face the very people who raised her, to confront the ones who orchestrated this war.
I don’t know if I can forgive her completely, not yet. But I know one thing – her confession changes everything. And when it comes down to it, her parents will not be allowed to live.
As the meeting comes to an end, the beach feels quieter, the storm clouds pressing down on us. The truth has come out, but the war is still coming.
We have less than 24 hours.