Chapter 7
Thalia took a deep breath, clearly organizing her thoughts under Aidon's scrutiny. "Like I said, we need to make Lyra believe the parasitic connections have completely overwhelmed Phoebe's defenses. She'd have to think Phoebe is helpless, unable to fight back."
"And how exactly do we fake that?" Hades asked as he prowled closer to the woman while allowing his power to leak out. It stung me across the room. It had to be more uncomfortable for her.
"Phoebe would need to lower her mental shields completely," Thalia explained while holding Hades’s gaze. "Let the connections flood in until they're so strong that Lyra can't resist the pull. She'll come here thinking she's won, ready to complete the ritual in person."
The living room fell silent as the full implications of what Thalia was describing sank in. Nina was the first to break the quiet. "You're talking about letting those things actually take over Mom's mind." Her voice was small and scared.
"Temporarily," Thalia said quickly. "Just long enough to—"
"No." The word came out harder than I'd intended, surprising everyone, including myself. "I won't do that to my family. I won't make them watch me become something else, even for a few minutes."
"There has to be something else we can do," Nina said, her voice cracking like she was twelve again and afraid of the dark. The fear threading through her words hit me square in the chest, making it hard to breathe. "We can't lose you. Or the babies. We just became a real family."
I knew exactly what she meant, and it wasn't the Hallmark card version of family bonding.
She hadn't shed a single tear when I'd divorced her father.
Hell, she'd probably done a little victory dance when the papers were signed.
We'd been playing house for years, going through the motions without any of the actual warmth that was supposed to come with it.
But this thing we'd built with Aidon? This messy, chaotic, somehow-it-works bunch of misfits who'd found each other?
This was the real deal. The family we'd all been secretly hoping for but never quite believed we deserved.
Jean-Marc nodded so hard I was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash, his jaw set in that stubborn way that was purely his father through and through.
The resemblance hurt sometimes. Not because I missed my ex-husband, but because it reminded me of all the years Jean-Marc had spent trying to win approval from a man who barely noticed he existed.
"We've survived everything else without turning Mom into monster chow. We'll figure this one out too."
Much like Nina, Jean-Marc had discovered what it felt like to belong somewhere, to have a family that actually gave a damn about him.
He had finally found his place in the world and was scared shitless of losing it.
The weight of that fear hit me like a freight train made of guilt and determination.
It settled deep in my bones, making my chest feel too tight for my lungs.
"You're right," I said, reaching for both of their hands and squeezing tight. "We'll find another way."
Thalia's expression darkened, her frustration palpable. "You don't understand the timeline we're working with. Once the eclipse begins—"
"We'll be ready," Hades interrupted, his divine authority filling the room like a physical presence. "But we do this intelligently, not desperately."
Clio stepped forward with a thoughtful expression. "Actually, there might be a way to strengthen Phoebe's connection to the babies without making her open herself up. Theoretically, she wouldn’t be putting herself in direct danger. Specialized meditation techniques."
"What kind of techniques?" I asked, intrigued despite growling coming from behind me.
"They’re actually ancient practices that allow pregnant mothers to establish individual communication with their unborn child," Clio explained. "If you can speak directly to each triplet, they can create a barrier that would protect you. We aren’t dealing with normal babies. They’ve shown an incredible amount of power already. "
"I wouldn’t have thought of that," Vera admitted. "If you can get your babies to work as a unit instead of reacting instinctively as they have been, this could work."
"It would also let you guide their power during any confrontation," Thalia added. “Even if it doesn’t allow us to return to the plan of luring Lyra here.”
"Let's try it," I decided. "Anything that gives us more options is worth attempting."
Clio nodded and began gathering supplies from the items strewn about the house. "We'll need a quiet space where you can focus without interruption. And everyone else will need to leave you alone. And before you start arguing, there is plenty you can do while she’s in the meditative state."
"The master bedroom," Aidon suggested. "It's the most heavily warded space in the house, and she will be comfortable."
“It would be nice to lie down,” I admitted.
As we prepared to head upstairs, Jean-Marc caught my arm. "Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?"
I saw the vulnerability he was trying to hide. "Of course, sweetheart."
We stepped into the hallway while the others continued planning. Jean-Marc ran his hands through his hair. A nervous habit he'd picked up from his biological father.
"I keep thinking about what Thalia said," Jean-Marc began, his voice barely above a whisper. I had to lean closer to catch his words. "About Lyra wanting to use the babies as vessels. I can't shake this feeling that I need to do something—anything—to help protect them. And you."
My heart clenched in that way that happened whenever one of my kids was in pain. My maternal instinct made me want to wrap him up and shield him from every hurt in the world. "Jean-Marc, honey—"
"I know there's probably not much I can actually do," he rushed on, like he was afraid I'd cut him off before he could get it all out. "But they're going to be my siblings. Half-siblings, yeah, but still. I want to help somehow. I should be able to protect my family."
I opened my mouth to reassure him, but he kept going, his words tumbling out faster now.
"Although..." His voice cracked slightly.
"I get it if you don't want me involved.
I mean, I always screw everything up anyway.
I couldn't even—" He swallowed hard. "I couldn't even be enough for Dad.
So why would I be any good at protecting the babies? "
Oh, hell no! Not on my watch. "Stop right there.
" I grabbed his face between my hands, probably harder than I should have, but I needed him to really hear me.
"Jean-Marc, look at me. You are doing enough.
More than enough. You think researching until your eyes bleed isn't helping?
You think having our backs through every single nightmare we've faced doesn't count?
Baby, you've already done more to protect this family than most people do in a lifetime. "
"But what if it's not enough when they get here?" The raw fear in his voice made my chest ache. "What if I fail them the way I failed him?"
"You didn't fail your father," I said fiercely. "You were a kid trying to earn love from someone who didn't know how to give it. That wasn't your failure. That was his."
"But these babies will be counting on me," he whispered, and damn it, his eyes were getting watery. "When they're older and need their big brother, what if I can't be what they need? What if I mess up like I always do?"
The uncertainty in his voice absolutely gutted me. This kid—this incredible, brave, brilliant kid who'd faced down an evil witch and dark magic without flinching—was terrified he wouldn't measure up as a big brother. It made me love him even more, which I didn’t think was possible.
"You want to know something?" I said, brushing away the tear that threatened to spill down his cheek.
"Every big sibling in the history of the world has felt exactly like that.
Being a good brother isn't about being perfect, sweetheart.
It's about showing up when it matters, even when you're scared senseless. "
He gave me a watery smile. "Really?"
"Really. And Jean-Marc?" I made sure he was looking directly at me.
"You've already proven you're going to be amazing at this.
You've protected us through so many hellish things already.
You've thrown yourself into danger for the people you love, researched until you nearly collapsed, and turned into the kind of man any mother would be proud to call her son.
And you know what else? Aidon loves you.
He loves you like you're his own. You're not half of anything in this family—you're whole.
You're ours. Those babies are going to win the lottery having you as their big brother. "
He crashed into me then, arms wrapping around me so tight I could barely breathe. But I didn't care one bit, because I could feel some of that bone-deep fear finally leaving his body. I'd won the lottery having him for a son.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, sweetheart." I held him tighter, breathing in that familiar scent that was uniquely Jean-Marc. "More than you could ever possibly know."
He squeezed me one last time and let me go. With my arm still around him, we rejoined the others in the living room. Aidon was waiting for me. “You ready to go up?”
Nodding, I kissed Jean-Marc on the cheek and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be up in a few,” Clio called out. “I need to gather a few more things.”
"Sounds good," I said, trying not to waddle as Aidon guided me upstairs to our bedroom.
The moment he closed the door behind us, I felt the familiar wave of exhaustion that came with carrying what felt like an entire football team in my belly. "Is Jean-Marc okay?" Aidon asked, immediately moving to my side as I approached the bed like it was Mount Everest.