58. Babies Are Here
Azael
Soul demon.
Should have known that my Azizam is the rarest among rare.
But it seems in this lifetime too I need to let her go.
If only we had more time, I’d have loved her better. Not making mistakes like I did.
I shall find you again, Azizam.
The anchor bond that manifested as a golden tether snaps with a brutal backlash once Ispahan disappears with her. My heart stops beating for a breath, then excruciating agony rips through my chest.
It's a hundred times worse compared to the ache of losing my wings. I feel bereft.
The miasma in the air makes it difficult to draw in a full breath.
Letting it all go seems easier. I don’t know if any gods are listening, but my only wish is that Aleiraah lives.
“Stop moping, angel.” A wry voice cuts through the haze of pain and hopelessness, speaking directly into my mind. I look around and notice the others slumped in various stages of grief, wearing lost expressions.
“Who are you?” I try searching for the source of the voice.
“Don’t ask dumb questions. Head north. I will open a portal there. This area is too unstable.”
When I inform the others they seem hopeful yet justifiably wary.
“It’s not a trick right?” Alistair asks.
“Didn’t seem so,” I answer.
We manage to dodge the boiling craters and widening chasms amid thunder-strikes and savage gales, reaching a copse of dead trees just as a volcano erupts making the ground tremble.
“Fuck! This is as north as we can go without falling into the lavapits.” Ifrinn coughs, sounding winded, shouldering half of my weight. The air is almost unbreathable now, heavy with ash.
I can barely keep my eyes open let alone stand on my own.
“We’re here.” I manage to think, hoping I didn’t imagine the voice in my head.
Just then a portal tears through the space before us, a golden glow emitting from its edges. The last being I would have expected tilts her head, peeking through the opening.
“Ammit?!” Ifrinn’s mouth falls open in shock and my knees buckle but Silas holds me up, grabbing my arm.
“Get a grip, Aleiraah’s mate!” Ammit huffs in my mind and shakes her ample mane as if in disdain.
An unwilling smile curves my mouth.
Ought to have anticipated a day like this since the chimera snatched my feathers in Duat.
“I could kiss you right now, Ammit!” Archie laughs and Ammit narrows her crocodile-gaze at him.
“Gross!”’ She says testily and I can’t help but chuckle, making everyone’s attention snap toward me in disbelief.
“Take us to our mate please, Ammit.” I incline my head in thanks and the rest follow.
Archer
“The head healer has done all she could. You were right, Azael. Aleiraah is in a healing sleep.” Zenith briefs us as we watch Aleiraah sleeping peacefully in the healer’s wing of the Nephilim castle.
She looks so pale and still as if carved out of marble.
Her natural vibrancy is missing and it makes my chest ache with a sense of loss. In its heels arrives anxiety.
What if we got her out too late? What if she never wakes up?
Ammit portalled us here from Haalbeg which probably folded unto itself the moment we escaped.
“She expended too much power at once.” Zenith remarks somberly.
Ispahan clears his throat, exhaustion lining his face, “The babies are okay for now but the head healer warned they might be born sooner than expected. Her body has been through a lot. We have our healers monitoring her closely.”
“Thank you for getting Ispahan out of there. I’m glad you all were able to make it out safely.” Zenith dips his chin gratefully.
The poor fellow had not let Ispahan out of his sight ever since we arrived here, or dropped rather unceremoniously in the healer’s wing by Ammit. The guards had swarmed until Zenith had barked orders.
Ammit in her nonchalant way had ignored the chaos and snapped her jaws at Zenith when he came too close to her. She had then calmly moved to Aleiraah’s side and nudged her hip with her crocodile snout.
Anubis had arrived shortly and had to coax Ammit away after a couple of hours. We had been worried out of our minds by that time about our mate.
“Ammit is in distress about the babies. Don’t mind her.” Anubis had apologized and after doing a check on Aleiraah said that she’s in an ‘in-between’ place.
That had been greatly alarming and none of us could sit still dreading for the life of our mate.
When Ammit huffed at him he was quick to explain in an uncharacteristically grave manner.
“She needs a nudge to break through the limbo. You must not leave her in it for too long. Even soul demons need to be shown the way back to life sometimes.” Then left with Ammit, promising her to be back once the babies were born.
Whimsical gods and their cryptic messages. Fucking unhelpful.
Baz has been researching like a madman, bringing in a mountain of scrolls from the Nephilim library, trying to find a way to wake a soul demon, without any luck.
All of us have been standing vigil at Aleiraah’s side.
Alistair and Azael had been in the worst shape and had to be treated by the healers urgently.
Azael lost his wings permanently I think, but he has been his usual stolid self. I can’t even imagine what’s going on in his mind, losing a vital part of himself.
Alistair still thinks it’s his fault that Aleiraah was taken, and drifts around the healer’s wing looking so desolate that Silas and I decided to keep a close eye on him.
Escaping from that impossible situation has drained us in different ways.
Aleiraah has not woken since she destroyed the Grimoire. Who knew such evil had been chasing us across lifetimes.
Every hour that crawls by turns my thoughts bleaker. What if she forgets us while stuck in that limbo? I have not felt this helpless in a long time.
I watch closely as the healer performing an hourly check on my Moon goes still. Her hands hover over Aleiraah’s belly and a glow starts emitting from her palms.
“What? What’s happening?” Silas barks.
“It’s time.” Her knowing gaze flicks to us. “We have to deliver the babies without delay. It’s no longer safe for them to be inside the mother’s womb.” She starts instructing her subordinates to prepare.
My heart jumps to my throat as I stay rooted in place. The head healer’s assistants start scurrying about. I look around noticing the tight expressions across everyone’s face.
We inch toward the bed she’s lying on and stand in a tight crescent around her, afraid to speak, anticipation and fear warring for supremacy.
My wolf whines inside my mind, afraid to lose his mate again.
He forces me to shift but I push him down.
He had curled up around her legs on the bed for hours, licking her feet occasionally in the hope that she’d wake up.
I had to take back control when he started howling in despair and the healers had come running.
Baz’s claws dig into his palms, scales flickering faintly beneath his skin.
Azael remains tense as if ready to shield her from the world.
Alistair stands like a silent sentinel by her side—one hand hovering near her abdomen, afraid to touch, afraid not to.
Silas looks like he’s one breath away from snapping, his muscles coiled tightly. His panther had also been prowling around the bed at all hours of the day.
Rinn and Zien both appear carved out of stone, barely breathing, gazes fixed on Aleiraah’s pale face.
The Nephilim healer straightens abruptly, her eyes glowing bright gold. “It is time,” she declares.
Silence crashes down.
Baz swallows hard then in a voice heavy with warning, pins the healer with a predatory gaze. “Nothing must happen to her!”
She nods, solemn and unflinching. “I’ll try my best.”
Azael stiffens. “Not good enough.”
“You need to do more than try.” I bite out.
“I cannot guarantee––” the healer replies softly.
Silas growls. “Save her…even if it costs us the babies. You hear me?”
We all silently agree. No room for doubt.
The healer looks scared for a moment then collects herself, already moving. She gestures, and more healers flood the chamber, drawing glowing runes into the air.
Baz snarls instinctively. “Don’t tell me, you’ll cut her open? I need more time to research!”
The healer straightens her spine without fear. “I’m afraid we don’t have more time. To save her and the babies, I need to perform the procedure now. She is asleep so she can’t help with the process. Please let me work in peace. I will prioritize your mate.”
A heartbeat passes and then Azael begins to channel his dwindling energy into Aleiraah.
“Stop, Azael! Let me channel our combined powers again. It’s the best way.” Alistair intervenes and Azael nods after a beat.
“Are you up for it?” Zien asks, concern evident in his tone. Alistair looks haggard.
“I’d die just to keep her breathing.” Alistair whispers, fixated on Aleiraah’s face.
And that’s our simple truth. We’d all happily die for her.
Without delay, we mesh our powers through Alistair, only this time it’s to keep our mate alive and our babies well.
The healer nods encouragingly, “Keep doing that. It’s helping regulate the energy fluctuations inside her body.”
Aleiraah does not stir as the sigils ignite. The healer presses her palms over Aleiraah’s womb.
The air thickens with uncertainty.
A seam of glowing light forms across Aleiraah’s abdomen—not flesh torn by blade, but a gentle parting to allow life enter into existence.
We collectively hold our breaths. Then, a sound.
Soft. Raw. Alive.
The first cry pierces the room.
The healer lifts a tiny, squirming form. A panther cub, midnight-black, eyes sealed shut, its fur shimmering faintly with silver motes—fae magic breathing gently beneath his skin.
Alistair and Silas choke.
“That's...” Both whisper as the cub morphs into a squirming baby, the fur disappearing as if it was never there.
She barely has time to pass the cub to an attendant before—
Another cry. My heart thumps wildly beneath my ribs.