Chapter 38 Alina
Alina
The plane banked hard as it descended toward the runway. I clutched the armrests, struggling to maintain my composure while everything inside me unraveled.
Beside me, Jack cradled our newborn, his eyes glassy with joy.
He beamed down at her, oblivious to the storm gathering inside me.
The entire flight home from Peru, I’d wrestled with one terrifying truth—my daughter was a Timeborne—a rare, powerful being capable of bending time and space to her will.
The knowledge filled me not with wonder, but dread.
Power like hers would make her a target—a prize.
And somewhere in the darkest corners of my soul, a deeper fear festered—Balthazar—the love I could never bury—would come for her.
He’d see her potential, her strength, and he’d love her more than he ever loved me. I couldn’t let that happen.
I would bury her gift before I let her be taken, even if it meant destroying the very thing that made her extraordinary.
Jack turned toward me, eyes wild with manic excitement, his breath quick and shallow. “It’s a miracle!” he whispered. “She’s a Timeborne! She can travel through time!”
I wanted to silence him with my hands around his throat.
“Your theory is wrong, Jack,” I said through clenched teeth. “And if you don’t shut up right now, you’ll regret it.”
The air thickened as the threat settled between us. His glee faded.
God, I’d done it again.
My heart sank with what I’d become—trapped beside Jack, a man I could barely stand to look at. I’d managed to leave Emily behind with Philip. But this time, I couldn’t run. Not with this child. Not with this husband.
If I failed to keep Jack satisfied—if anything happened to the baby—the Scholar would find me. Zara would hunt me like prey. And Balthazar… he was already out there. A shadow at the edge of fate, waiting to strike.
And I knew—deep down—I had just lit the signal fire.
Everyone was watching me.
I glanced at Jack.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” The words tasted bitter. I had never apologized more in my life than I had with Jack. I felt like a puppet—tugged by invisible strings, dancing to someone else’s design. “But we can never speak of your theories again. Time travel, the Moon Dagger… It’s over. I’m done.”
Jack tilted his head, studying me. “What is it that has you so afraid?”
I shut my eyes. God, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream it all into the void. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
“I’m just tired,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
“Postpartum depression,” he said gently, nodding as if he understood. “We can get help for that.”
Help? There was no help for what haunted me.
His eyes drifted to my swollen breasts.
“Are you going to nurse her?” he asked, trembling with fragile hope.
I shot him a look. “No. You said you’d help. You wanted this. You can feed her formula.”
The baby stirred in his arms, her tiny hands curling into fists, her body kicking and flailing as her cries intensified.
“But she’s hungry now,” Jack pleaded, torn between obeying me and wanting to soothe his daughter. “You must feed her—at least until we get home.”
I clenched my jaw and reached for the child I hadn’t even named. She latched onto my aching breast, relieving the pressure, but I felt nothing.
No warmth. No bond. No love.
Just emptiness.
Back home, I sat in the kitchen, listlessly picking at a prepackaged salad we’d grabbed from the grocery store. My appetite had vanished.
“I need to see Lee,” I said flatly.
Jack glanced over, bouncing the baby on his shoulder. “You want to see Lee? Why?”
“We have to tell him about the baby. He deserves to know.”
His face twisted with disappointment, and his look seared into me like hot coals. His voice was clipped and accusing.
“Whatever. Someone’s got to take care of our child, and I guess that’s me now.”
He jostled her a bit too firmly, but she didn’t cry. She cooed, oddly at ease in his rough embrace.
At least I’d given my children fathers who wanted to care for them.
Jack looked down at her, his expression softening with wonder. “She needs a name. Something beautiful. Something worthy.”
The baby gurgled, waving her tiny arms as if she understood.
“Olivia,” he said suddenly. “Yes—Olivia! From Twelfth Night. Strong. Independent. Complicated. That’s it!”
He looked up at me, eyes bright. “What do you think, Alina? Shall we call her Olivia?”
My heart faltered. That name—her name.
“It’s fine,” I said hollowly. “I don’t care what you call her.”
Jack’s smile widened. “Your mommy doesn’t care,” he said in a sing-song voice.
Olivia squealed.
“She doesn’t care,” he continued, tickling her belly. “But I think she does. I think she cares so much.”
He twirled her in his arms and waltzed out of the kitchen like we were living a joyful dream.
“Let’s see if our neighbor can watch you while Mommy and I visit Uncle Lee, hmm?”
I stumbled into Lee’s condo, desperation guiding my movements. Jack trailed behind, clinging to me like a loyal—but—unwanted mongrel.
“Alina,” Lee greeted, stepping aside to let us in. His gaze flicked to Jack. “Jack.”
I shot Jack a sideways glance, then leaned toward Lee and murmured, “I need to speak to you. Alone.”
Lee didn’t hesitate. “Jack, would you mind giving us a moment?”
Jack’s eyes shifted between us before he gave a tight nod and wandered off.
Lee led me into the kitchen. He sank into a chair at the small table, where a half-eaten sandwich and a nearly empty beer bottle sat. “You look terrible. I heard you gave birth in Peru.”
He took a bite and gestured for me to sit.
“Who told you?”
“I have my sources.” He wiped his mouth, then softly asked, “How are you holding up? How’s the baby?”
I lowered myself onto the hard stool. “We have to leave,” I said quietly. “We need to time travel—just you and me. We have to get away from here.”
His brow lifted, but he didn’t speak. He just waited.
“A dagger appeared beside her at birth,” I continued. “Olivia’s a Timeborne. She has to be hidden from the darkness or Balthazar will find her. He’ll come for her. For all of us.”
I reached into my purse, pulled out the black dagger, and placed it gently on the table before him.
Lee inhaled sharply, staring at the blade’s shimmering, inscribed surface.
“You have to hide it,” I whispered, urgency bleeding into every word. “She can’t ever know what she is. She can’t know she’s a time traveler.”
Lee remained silent as he lifted the beer to his lips and drained it. His eyes locked onto mine, and he ran his tongue along his teeth in a mocking gesture.
“I’ll hide the dagger. No one will ever find it. No one will ever know what she is.” He jabbed a finger in my direction. “But—you’d better take care of that baby.”
His glare was steely, his words heavy as stone, pressing against my chest. The old wooden chair creaked as he leaned back, letting the front legs hover off the floor.
“Alina, you need to stay out of trouble. I’m disappearing for a while, taking the dagger with me. No more time travel. No chasing after the other blade. You stay put. Take care of her. And Jack. Keep your heads down until this all blows over.”
He dropped the chair forward again with a loud thunk, punctuating the command.
Jack appeared in the doorway, glowering. “What are you two whispering about?”
Lee gave him a broad, disarming smile. “We were just talking about your beautiful little Olivia. Did you know that if the dagger draws her blood during a full moon, she could time travel?”
Jack’s eyes lit up. “I knew it! I knew my theories were true!”
Lee leaned in, voice low and grave. “It’s said that the right cut, paired with ancient words carved into the blade, can send a Timeborne to another era… but comes at a cost.”
Jack’s brows furrowed. “The Umbrum Void?”
“Never mind,” I said quickly, shooting Lee a warning look. “He’s just spinning another one of his stories. He’s going to hide the dagger, and that’s the end of it. We’re not discussing this nonsense anymore.”
“But—” Jack began.
“Not. A. Word,” I cut him off coldly. “I’m done with it.”
Lee took the dagger from my hands. We said our goodbyes, and I ushered Jack out before he could ask more questions.
On the drive home, Jack sulked in the passenger seat, arms crossed. “You just don’t understand. Time travel is my life and my passion. You can’t expect me to shut up because it makes you uncomfortable. We have a gifted daughter—she deserves to know who she is!”
I stared straight ahead, heart pounding, mind racing for a way to keep this from unraveling.
Taking a deep breath, I lied through my teeth.
“Lee and I agree—this whole time travel thing? It’s bogus. Nothing more than a fantasy.”
Jack frowned. “Lee said that? But what about the sacred words—the whole ritual?”
“That’s just legend, not reality,” I said calmly. “He told me before you came in.”
Jack’s expression crumpled with disappointment.
“He laughed. Said La Cueva del Fuego is full of trinkets like the dagger we gave him. Nothing special.”
“He did?” Jack asked softly.
“Yes, sweetheart. I know it hurts to hear, and I’m sorry. But we must accept the truth—Olivia is just a normal child, meant for a normal life.”
I reached out, resting my hand gently on his thigh.
He looked at me, surprised by the tenderness. I rubbed his upper arm absently, trying to soothe him. On the surface, I was the picture of a supportive wife. But beneath the calm, a storm was stirring.
A war waged inside me.
I had promised Lee I’d avoid danger and abandon the search for the Moon Dagger. But the idea of wielding that kind of power… of standing toe-to-toe with Balthazar, not as prey, but as an equal—was intoxicating.
Would it be a betrayal if I’d already decided to break the promise before I uttered it?
A sly smile tugged at the corner of my lips as the answer crystallized.
Yes, this was my path. This was my destiny.
I was meant to claim the Sun and Moon Daggers—and nothing would stop me.