58. Babies Are Here #2
The second child emerges—another panther cub, smaller, sleeker, her tail flicking with adorable feline grace. Vines of soft green light curl briefly around her paws before fading. Again the fur dissolves right before our eyes leaving behind soft skin.
My gaze turns misty at the miracle. Silas nearly collapses where he’s standing, eyes welling with tears.
Two heartbeats. Two lives. Then the magic suddenly shifts.
The chamber grows hotter. The sigils glow red-gold.
Baz sucks in a sharp breath. “That’s dormant dragonfire.”
The healer frowns. “I sense fae magic too.”
“Impossible!” Everyone’s face mirrors Baz’s surprise.
Silas and Rinn are cradling a cub each, close to their chests.
I glance at Moon to make sure her chest is still rising and falling with silent breaths. She has to get through this.
The third baby is born in a burst of embers—an infant with faintly scaled patterns along her spine, wings nothing more than glowing outlines beneath translucent skin. A wisp of smoke curls from the babe’s mouth as she cries.
Baz drops to his knees.
“How?!” A reverent whisper falls from his lips but panic soon replaces astonishment as the child turns blue and stops breathing altogether.
“No!” I cry out, lunging for the babe but Baz is faster. He snatches the baby and envelops her in a ball of muted dragon fire.
“Of course! Dragonlings need dragon-fire to mature and stay warm.” I watch in wonder as the baby slowly turns a healthy pink and scrunches up her adorable face. A collective sigh of relief whooshes out in the room.
He cradles the tiny sweetheart closer to his chest, the fire not affecting him in the slightest.
The final birth nearly brings the healer to her knees.
Power surges violently, fae magic spiraling out of control.
The fourth child emerges wreathed in light, eyes opening immediately—bright, intelligent.
The magic is inherently fae but something else is entwined underneath.
Before it can be discerned, the babe lets out a sharp cry and I dive, cradling her into my arms.
The room goes utterly still.
The healer exhales shakily, sweating.
“Four,” she breathes. “She carried four.”
A true miracle. The relief that all the babies survived the ordeal in Haalbeg is nothing short of extraordinary.
Alistair sobs, staring at her with a look full of wonder and love as Azael and I grab his shoulders holding him upright. He lifts her tiny foot with his fingers and presses a soft kiss to underside. The tiny darling squirms and warmth suffuses my chest.
We became fathers today.
As I flick my gaze to Aleiraah’s prone form, the cut on her abdomen seals itself without a scar.
But she doesn’t stir.
“Is she ok?” Anxiety flares in my chest.
“She’s still asleep, still in limbo.” The healer replies cautiously, hovering her hands over Aleiraah’s head.
Reluctantly, we place the children in a crescent around her—two panther cubs nestled against her sides, the fae and dragon infants resting closer to her heart.
Baz presses his forehead to Aleiraah’s hand.
“Wake up, Starling,” he murmurs, choked with emotion. “You have no idea what you made possible.”
The healer watches us quietly for a moment. “Congratulations on the beautiful babies, fathers. I hate to break this precious moment but her energy has grown faint.” She frowns while holding her pulse.
“I’m afraid that she might be fading away and had you not been channeling your combined powers into her, I doubt this birthing would have gone so smoothly.” She looks meaningfully at Alistair whose shoulders have grown tense with each word.
“Wake up, Love,” Zien cups her face. “Please open those pretty eyes. Enough, Aleiraah! Look, the babies are here!” He pleads desperately and I feel my heart crack open.
“What do we do?” Rinn clutches her other hand, despair etched across his features.
“We wait and continue to feed her our energy.” Azael states grimly and we agree wordlessly.
But by day three we are walking around like the living-dead. The babies have been passed around and cared for. Zenith, Ispahan and Zahara have been on watch duty as well.
The castle is still under high alert after Butterball’s failed abduction attempt. Just because the Goblins have been defeated doesn’t mean that the Rephaims won’t try their luck again.
We haven’t the heart to name the babies yet. We’re all waiting for Aleiraah to wake up. None of us have left her side.
Alistair looks nearly skeletal but refuses to stop tunneling energy into her. When Ispahan asked him to take a break he threatened to keep going at it alone.
Ispahan doesn’t understand. It’s physically impossible to step away from her. We are her anchors and I’m afraid we are the only reason she’s still tethered to this realm.
Zenith brings us food, so does Zahara. She even brought their daughter Butterball to meet Aleiraah in the hope that the tiny sweetheart might help her wake up, but it was a lost cause.
The golden tethers––glowing translucent threads connecting from our hearts to Aleiraah’s––reconnected on day four. It gave us hope.
All of us were thrilled that maybe she’d wake up, only to be disappointed again.
With the golden tether came more memories. Of our past life. How I had lost her, promised her that we’d meet again against all odds and be together. Forever.
Don’t make a liar out of me, my Moon.
The back of my eyes constantly burns with frustration. I couldn’t find a way to wake her, despite combing through texts with Baz to solve this predicament.
Very little is known about soul demons. Anubis visited with Ammit and his consorts as promised.
When we pleaded with him to do something he had regretfully said what we all dreaded.
“I cannot intervene in life and death situations. The balance cannot be disturbed. But I’ll say this.
You need to call her back. With all that you have.
Every fragment of your determination and soul.
Remember that you are her soul tethers. You are practically holding her onto this plane.
Fighting off the Raven Grimoire had taken almost all her strength. ”
Ammit had sniffed around the babies happily, nudging them with her snout. She even tried to directly mind-speak to Aleiraah but couldn’t reach her.
It scared me that even Ammit couldn’t reach where Aleiraah was possibly trapped.
But what induced bone-deep fear was her warning before she left.
“Her soul is wandering around. Guide her back! You only have little time left, Aleiraah’s anchors.”
I don’t know what day it is but exhaustion has seeped into every pore. I feel like I’m at the end of a tight rope that’s about to snap.
“Open your eyes, Moon. Please. I can’t live without you. None of us can, sweetheart.” I whisper against her temple when Silas suddenly springs up.
“Soul guide! That’s it!”
“What?” I frown, startled by his exuberance.
“Ammit said to guide her back. She needs a soul guide! I’ll be back.” He starts for the door.
“You can’t!” We all yell at the same time.
“But I need to get the snow fairy,” he yanks his hair in frustration. “It’s not a well known fact but they are nature’s spirit guides. She needs Snow!”
Zenith, who has been quietly vigilant, chimes in urgently, “We can bring the bird in without delay.”
No wonder Snow had found Aleiraah in the Nephilim forest. A spirit guide would be naturally attracted to a soul demon. Just like the will-o'-the-wisps always followed her. They too have been popping up at all times of the day, keeping vigil along with us.
I study her peaceful face, skin almost translucent, yet again marvelling at my mate.
We are going to help you find your way back, Moon. Hold on!
Aleiraah
I have been sitting on a shore watching the sun rise. A cool breeze tangles with my hair, whipping it around my face. I have golden strands now mixed with the fiery red.
Strange.
I can’t remember my hair turning a different color.
Frowning, I wonder why I’m alone on this sandy shore. It is peaceful. I feel like I could stay here forever, the seafoam gently touching my toes and ebbing away like a shy friend.
But a nagging feeling won’t go away, that I’m supposed to be somewhere. Only, I can’t seem to recall where.
Where are my mates?
Everytime I think of them, my heart grows heavy with equal parts love and sadness. Their lives too had been usurped by the evil Grimoire and Vroc.
We have suffered through lifetimes, and this one is no different. Relentless chaos has left wounds on my heart, like a river stone carved deep by unyielding current, reshaped by forces out of our control. Why must it hurt so much?"
I miss them.
Loneliness settles like a shroud over my thoughts. But I like how peaceful it is here. I sigh looking at the sun that’s about to set.
There’s no constant push and pull. No one is asking me what I want, no need to continue to be strong even while nursing a bruised heart.
Here, I can just be.