CHAPTER TWELVE
ROMAN
C radling Olivia in my arms, I turned on Alina, fury burning in my eyes, the weight of my frustration as heavy as the limp body I carried.
“You should never have brought her here,” I growled, my voice a low, dangerous rumble that reverberated against the cold stone walls of the cave’s mouth. “What kind of mother endangers her child like this?”
Alina squared her shoulders. “Olivia insisted on going to the caves. You know she wouldn’t have stayed behind.”
“Damn it, Alina! This isn’t some game where?—”
“Enough, Roman!” she snapped, her voice slicing through my anger like a whip. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, trembling with restrained emotion. “Arguing now won’t change what’s happened.”
I knew she was right, but admitting it would have been like swallowing broken glass. Instead, I shifted Olivia in my arms, feeling her labored breaths against my chest, and sprinted toward the waiting carriage. She felt fragile in my arms, her body limp and unresponsive, as if the life had been drained from her. Every step I took was measured, driven by sheer willpower to keep her safe.
“Malik! Osman!” I bellowed, my voice carrying over clattering tools and murmured conversations among our hired hands. “Work’s done. We’re leaving now! Pack up immediately! Now is not the time for questions. Move!”
Their eyes darted back and forth; their hands shook as they fumbled to comply with my command. The air was thick with tension, and I could sense their fear mixing with mine. But there was no space for it, not when Olivia’s well-being hung precariously in the balance.
I didn’t wait for their responses or see if they followed. All that mattered was getting Olivia to safety. My boots pounded against the ground, kicking up dust clouds as I closed the distance to the carriage, each stride was steady, my grip unyielding despite the strain in my arms.
“Osman, help me with her,” I pleaded as I neared the carriage, my voice tight with urgency. Nothing could happen to her. I wouldn’t let it.
He rushed forward, his usually placid face creased with concern as he opened the carriage door and assisted me in laying Olivia down onto the cushioned bench inside.
“We’ll have you home soon,” I murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from Olivia’s fevered brow.
Osman’s gaze was fixed on the sky, his eyes narrowed in a mix of fascination and dread. I followed his line of sight, squinting against the sun’s glare, my mind still reeling from the urgency of Olivia’s condition.
“The solar eclipse is coming,” Osman said flatly.
We all stopped in our tracks, turning to him in disbelief. Even Olivia, weak as she was, managed a feeble, “What?”
“Look at the sun.” Osman pointed upward. “It will be here within a week or a few days.”
The news settled upon us with unexpected weight. An eclipse was a bad omen at the best of times, but now—with everything so precariously balanced—it felt like a harbinger of disaster. The air seemed to grow colder, and the shadows around us stretched out like dark fingers.
Malik’s violent wash of anger surged, threatening to drown us all in its destructive waves. His voice shook with a feral growl as he screamed, “The solar eclipse approaches! Its cursed presence weakens all darkness, leaving me vulnerable. I won’t be able to protect you and Olivia!”
“Don’t worry,” I said with a false sense of calm, trying to reassure him while my heart pounded frantically. “We’ll find a way to protect you and get through this together.”
Deep down, I knew the danger ahead, and fear clawed at my insides.
Malik tugged me aside, his face etched with lines of genuine fear. “If only you knew how a solar eclipse affects the darkness. I have no power during it.”
“Malik,” I said, touching his shoulder, trying to infuse confidence into my voice, “Don’t worry. We’ve faced worse than celestial shadows. We’ll face this together.”
Reyna touched Malik’s back, and the surge of power that emanated from her was palpable.
Malik jerked away from her touch.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding to her before turning away.
I frowned, stupefied by their interaction.
Olivia’s form was limp, her face pale and drawn. I tried to make out the words she mumbled, but they slipped away, unintelligible whispers carried off by the wind. Her head lolled to one side, and I adjusted it so she might rest easier.
“Get moving! We need a doctor,” I bellowed to the coachman, who snapped the reins with a sense of purpose. The horses leaped into action, their hooves thundering against the ground, pulling us toward the refuge of Mathias’ house. Behind us, the others mounted their horses in a symphony of leather creaks and animal snorts, ready to escort us back.
The carriage rocked and heaved over the uneven terrain, each jolt sending a silent prayer from my lips that Olivia would hold on just a little longer. The weight of leadership pressed down upon me like the coming eclipse threatened to darken the sky—inescapable, all-consuming. But now was not the time for doubt; whatever lay ahead, we would deal with it.
The gates to Mathias’ estate swung open as if anticipating our frantic return. Dust billowed in our wake, a cloud of unease that choked the air we breathed. As I leaped from the carriage before it even halted, Osman was at my side, his expression grim.
“There was truth in Malik’s words,” he said, voice low but carrying weight. “He will lose his power. All darknesses are vulnerable. We have to get home.”
His words were like a cold hand squeezing my heart. What did that mean for all of us if Malik’s strength weakened during the eclipse? And what if Olivia went into birth during the eclipse?
I raced into the house holding Oliva, the door banging against the wall, echoing through the hallways.
“Lee!” I bellowed, my voice reverberating off the marble. The feel of Olivia in my arms—her warmth, the unsteady rise and fall of her shallow breaths—was all I could focus on.
Lee emerged from the parlor, his face creased with concern. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes darting between Olivia and me.
“Maybe she’s in labor?” Emily’s voice quivered with tension. She hovered by Lee’s side, wringing her hands. “It’s normal to have a baby at eight months. Marcellious’ doctor is here. Let him check her.”
“Please,” I said, my voice raw with worry. Olivia’s breaths came shallow and uneven in my arms.
The doctor stepped into the foyer, his medical bag already open. His gentle hands worked with precision as he examined her. I held my breath, watching every flicker of his expression, searching for reassurance.
“She’s not in labor,” he said, and relief surged through me. “But she needs bed rest. Complete bed rest.”
The order lingered in the air, sounding like a reprieve and a sentence. Olivia needed more than rest; she needed protection, especially now with the eclipse looming and the threats it posed. But for now, bed rest was the immediate prescription, and I would ensure it was enforced—for her sake and the sake of the life she carried.
“Thank you, doctor,” I said, my gaze drifting back to Olivia, whose stillness belied the storm I knew was raging within her. We would weather this storm together, as we had all the others. I would be the light to hold it at bay.
I navigated the narrow hallway to our bedchamber, Olivia’s warmth pressed against me, her fragile form unmoving in my arms. Gently, I laid her down on the bed, the soft mattress molding around her. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, yet her eyes bore into mine, defiant and fiery.
“Roman, I can’t just lie here,” she said, trying to push herself up despite her body’s apparent exhaustion. “I’ll go crazy confined to these four walls.”
“Olivia,” I said, pressing a firm hand to her shoulder and coaxing her back onto the pillows. “You need to rest. It’s not just about you anymore. Think of the child.”
She let out an exasperated sigh, her gaze drifting away from me. “Resting is a silent madness, Roman. I need to be part of what’s happening. I can’t be left out.”
I crouched beside the bed, cupping her hand in mine. “Your strength is in your resilience right now, not your actions,” I said.
Leaving her to contemplate my words, I stepped into the dim corridor, each step pulling me deeper into the weight of everything unraveling around us. As I approached the adjacent room where Marcellious lay, the air grew heavier, thick with the pungent scent of herbs and despair.
Marcellious was worse than I had imagined—his face was ashen, his chest rising and falling in labored gasps. His body was wracked by an invisible torment that refused to release its hold. Lee stood over him on the opposite side of the bed, a mixture of determination and despair etched into his features.
“I need to take him to the future,” Lee stated without preamble, his voice carrying the weight of a father’s love battling against the tide of inevitability.
Mathias entered behind me, filling the room with an aura of authority and concern. “What is this talk? You want to go to the future?”
“Mathias, look at him,” Lee said, motioning toward Marcellious’ frail, trembling form. “He needs medical care—the kind they have in the 21st century. You might have magic and old knowledge, but there are things only the future can provide.”
“Nonsense,” Mathias countered, his voice a low rumble of certainty. “I helped Malik survive Belladonna’s bite. Surely, you, Lee, can do the same.”
“Marcellious is not Malik,” Lee snapped. His voice wavered, a thin thread of anguish laced through the anger. “He’s a Timeborne, not a darkness.”
Mathias stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “He will be alright. He will come through. We need time.”
“Promises don’t heal the sick, Mathias!” Lee’s voice cracked, and his desperation laid bare. “You assured Marcellious of safety under your care, yet look at my boy—sick, dying.”
“Malik survived Belladonna because of what I did for him,” Mathias said with quiet intensity as if the words themselves could ward off the grim reality before us.
“This is no poison to be purged,” Lee said. “He needs more than herbs and incantations. He needs to return with me to my time, where medicine can do what magic here cannot.”
Before Mathias could respond, a violent cough tore through Marcellious’ frame. Blood flecked his lips, his convulsions throwing him into a desperate fight for every breath. Lee and I pressed down on his limbs, trying to steady him, to keep him anchored in this world.
Marcellious’ eyes snapped open, wild with fever and fear. His lips trembled as a single word escaped, hoarse and haunting.
“Lazarus,” he gasped. His voice cracked, but the name cut through the air like a blade. “He’s coming... going to destroy Salvatore.”
I leaned in closer, my heart hammering in my chest. The name Lazarus chilled me to the bone.
“Stay with us, Marcellious,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, as much a plea to the heavens as to my brother. “We’re going to save you. You have to fight.”
Mathias’ grip on my shoulder felt like the weight of an impending storm, his fingers digging in with a desperation that mirrored the panic in his eyes. The air thickened with tension as he peered down at Marcellious, whose chest heaved with shallow, ragged breaths.
“Mathias, let me go,” I snapped through gritted teeth, my body twisting in an attempt to free myself.
He hesitated, the sinews of his hand standing out against his pale skin, before finally releasing me. My arm ached from the pressure.
Mathias stepped toward Marcellious, his face etched with lines of worry that seemed to deepen with every second. “Marcellious, tell me again what you said…. Who are Lazarus and Salvatore?”
I wedged myself between Mathias and Marcellious, my heart pounding in my chest. Mathias’ expression was tight with annoyance.
“Roman,” he said, his voice low and controlled but crackling with impatience, “Marcellious just mentioned some names. Don’t you think we need to know who they are? They could hold the key to our survival.
I felt a growl rise in my throat, my protective instincts roaring to life. “Leave my brother alone,” I snarled, my voice like steel. “Can’t you see that he’s sick and dying? That should be our priority, not some names he happened to mention. If those names are crucial to you, why don’t you ask Reyna? Maybe she knows who they are.”
The words spat out of me like venom, fueled by my fear for Marcellious and my frustration with Mathias’ focus on the mysterious names.
“Mathias, you saw enough,” Lee interjected, his voice sharp and unwavering. “My boy is sick and needs help. I’m taking him to the future. He’s delusional, and he’s dying.”
Mathias’ lips pressed into a thin line, the weight of his pride and reluctance visible in the rigid set of his shoulders. But after a tense moment, he relented with a curt nod. “Very well. We will do what we must for Marcellious.”
Relief coursed through me, mingling with the urgency pounding in my chest. There was no time to waste—not with the eclipse looming and its ominous weight pressing down on us.
Mathias turned sharply on his heel, flickering his gaze between Lee and Marcellious before leaving the room. His footsteps echoed down the hall with an air of finality.
I stood there, staring at Lee with desperation and frustration. The heavy silence in the room was punctuated only by Marcellious’ labored breathing.
“Will he make it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Lee admitted, the exhaustion in his voice like a physical weight pressing down on him. His shoulders sagged, and his face was etched with lines of worry. “This whole plan... it’s spiraling out of control.”
“Out of control?” I echoed, incredulous. “What an understatement. I’m tired of all these secrets you’re keeping from me. What aren’t you telling me, Lee?”
Lee took a deep breath, his expression heavy with unspoken truths.
“Roman,” he said, “there is so much I want to share with you, but it’s too dangerous. All I can tell you is that Mathias and I have known each other for many years. We first crossed paths after I thought Alina had died. He approached me one day, claiming to be her father and wanting to watch over her daughter, Olivia, in her absence. I allowed it, not knowing what else to do.
“Then, one day, Alina returned, telling me the Timehunters had taken her hostage. That’s when Mathias revealed the truth about Balthazar and how he targeted Olivia. He declared we had to put an end to these dangerous people once and for all. That’s also when I learned that Marcellious had been captured by the Timehunters, despite Mathias’ assurances that everything would be okay.”
Lee’s voice wavered as he continued, “Marcellious and I have been separated for far too long, and now that I’m back, he’s sick and delusional from the poison they gave him. I must take him away from here and find someone to heal him properly before it’s too late.”
Tension coiled tighter within me. “And what about Olivia’s father? Does Jack know Alina is alive?”
Lee’s face hardened. “No. He can’t know. The trials Olivia endured with Tristan were immense. I can’t—won’t—risk Jack discovering any of this. He and Alina had a rocky relationship. It was hard on him after she left.”
The secrets we kept seemed to multiply, each one a thread in a web that threatened to entangle us all.
Malik stepped into the room, his expression grim. “I think Lee is right. He should take Marcellious to the future. After everything we’ve encountered, I don’t trust anyone. We’re in a pit of vipers here.”
Before I could respond, Emily appeared in the doorway, her presence a silent storm of worry. Her eyes searched mine, seeking reassurance—perhaps an escape from the darkness looming over us.
“I will go too,” Emily said, unable to mask the urgency in her voice. “Marcellious is my husband; I must be there for him.”
Malik grunted, folding his arms. “Emily and her son will go with you.”
“Then it’s settled,” I said. “You will all time travel at the next full moon.”
Leaving the room as the echo of our decision lingered, I made my way to check on Olivia. The house seemed to hold its breath, anticipation and fear mingling in the stale air. I found her sitting up, defiance etched into her posture despite the pallor of her skin.
I brushed my fingertips against her cheek, my heart aching for her.
“Olivia,” I said, my tone gentle yet filled with concern, “how are you feeling, my flaming fire?”
Leaning in, I kissed her forehead tenderly, hoping to offer comfort. The warmth of her skin against mine reminded me of the passion that burned between us. I only wanted her to feel at peace and free from pain.
“Okay,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.
“You need rest,” I said.
She shook her head, stubbornness lighting her eyes. “No, Roman. I know you don’t believe me, but I know what I saw in the cave. The old man said that he knows you and that you have met each other in Rome.”
A chuckle escaped me, unbidden. “Olivia, I met a lot of people in Rome.”
Her expression sharpened, growing intense, almost feverish. “He had this presence... like the shadows bent toward him, drawn to him.” She shivered, her voice trembling with the weight of her recollection. “He moved with deliberate, almost predatory grace. Each step he took echoed softly in the cave as if the ground recognized him.” Her gaze grew distant, caught in the vivid memory. “And the snakes guarded the moon dagger, coiled and slithering like living sentinels, protecting something so precious. I saw it, Roman. I saw it all.”
“Olivia, my love, there was no one in there,” I replied, maintaining a gentle firmness.
The battle lines were drawn between us, invisible yet palpable. She clung to her vision with a tenacity that frustrated and impressed me. As much as I wanted to dismiss her claims, a small part of me couldn’t shake the nagging thought that the truth might be buried in her words. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on impossibilities. Immediate dangers loomed, and every moment spent debating felt like a betrayal of those relying on me.
The weight of her sadness hung heavy in the air, almost suffocating. The shimmer of unshed tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to fall. Her pain and vulnerability crashed over me like a cold, unrelenting tide, washing away my resolve and leaving me raw.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said at last, my voice softening in her despair. “But the baby is coming soon, Olivia. You must watch over yourself and protect the life growing inside you.”
I placed my hand gently over hers, resting protectively on her belly. “Let the men handle this. You stay here and rest. We’ll find the blade.”
She nodded, but her eyes remained distant, clouded with worries and visions only she could see. I felt an unfamiliar helplessness. In protecting her, I asked her to deny every instinct she had to fight alongside us.
My mind churned with unease as I turned away to give her space. Who was this man she spoke of? And why did his alleged words linger in the corners of my thoughts like a shadow refusing to fade?
I rubbed my arms where Mathias’ grip had left its mark—too firm, too fraught with urgent strength. What was he not saying? I could sense the cogs turning in his mind at Lazarus’ and Salvatore’s names.
My memory flashed back to Olivia’s warning that Salvatore, the man who had once held her mother captive, was now targeting us. He wanted to claim the legendary blades for himself. The air seemed charged with unspoken truths, thick with secrets no one dared to reveal.
I stayed by Olivia’s side, holding her close until her breath evened out and sleep finally claimed her. Even then, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Her haunting expression lingered in my mind—a stark reminder that we were all pawns in a far more dangerous game. The urgency to retrieve the moon dagger gnawed at me like a relentless ache, but doubt and fear whispered insidiously at the edges of my thoughts. Were we truly capable of finding it before our enemies did? Or were we blindly walking into the trap that would seal our downfall?