Chapter 30
THIRTY
Nevaeh
The next two weeks are some of the hardest we’ve ever faced—and that’s saying something considering we’ve survived assassination attempts, betrayals, and literal shootouts.
Caelian’s recovery is agonizingly slow. The bullet wound to his chest, so close to his already damaged heart, has left him weaker than I’ve ever seen him.
Some days he can barely sit up without his face going pale; sweat beading his brow as he fights against the pain.
Other days are better, when he can walk to the bathroom on his own or sit in the chair by the window and pretend he’s not dying inside.
Dr. Tulio handles his medical care. Despite everything—the years of poisoning and experimentation—he remains dedicated to Caelian’s recovery with an almost obsessive determination.
Possibly out of some mixture of guilt and remorse. Honestly, I’m too exhausted to care as long as he keeps Caelian alive.
And slowly, gradually, Caelian improves. His complexion goes from pallid to something resembling healthy. His breathing becomes less labored. The monitors beep in steadier rhythms.
I barely leave his side through all of it. I sleep in the armchair beside his bed or curled up next to him when Tulio isn’t checking his vitals.
I read to him from books Ms. Poitier brings up. I hold his hand and remind him he’s strong enough to survive this, just like he survived everything else.
But eventually, Caelian notices what I’ve been trying to hide—the bloodshot look of my eyes and how I keep nodding off because I can’t remember the last time I slept more than three hours straight.
“Nevaeh,” he says one afternoon, his tone stern. “You need to take care of yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re exhausted.” His gray eyes pin me in place. “You’re starting to worry me. Forget about my condition and focus on yourself.”
“I just need to make sure you’re okay—”
“I am okay. Because of you. Because of Tulio. But now you need to rest. Please, mia bella ballerina. For me.” He grabs my hand, swallowing it up in his much larger one, and gives me a reassuring squeeze.
So I finally listen. Not because I want to, but because the concern in his eyes makes my stomach pit with guilt. Plus, my body has been begging for relief.
Everything aches—my muscles, my joints, even my breasts feel more tender and sore than they’ve ever been. I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a couple pounds, which is a big deal as petite as I am, and I haven’t been able to keep down any food.
But Caelian isn’t the only one concerned. Dr. Tulio finds me in the hallway outside Caelian’s room, probably looking like death warmed over.
“Nevaeh,” he says gently. “When’s the last time you had a proper meal? Or a full night’s sleep?”
“I don’t know. A while.”
“Come with me. Mr. C said he thought it was a good idea if I gave you a quick checkup. Make sure you’re not running yourself into the ground.”
I follow him to the medical office Caelian had created inside his home so he could provide at-home care.
He takes my blood pressure, checks my pulse, shines a light in my eyes.
He even takes some blood to have it tested, handing it off to his medical assistant.
Then he starts asking the usual routine questions.
“How have you been eating?”
“I haven’t had much of an appetite. But I’ve been doing my best to eat. Usually when Ms. Poitier corners me.”
“And sleep?”
“Not great. But that’s normal, right? After everything?”
“And your last period?”
I pause, trying to think back. When was it? Definitely before the chaos at Vecoli. And the attack weeks ago outside the fertility clinic.
The days have blurred together so much I can barely remember what month it is, let alone track my cycle.
“I... I’m not sure. Maybe six weeks? I haven’t really been paying attention. But I’ve always been irregular, especially during dance season. The stress of performing—”
“And when did the fatigue start?” he interrupts, making notes on his clipboard. “The body aches?”
“A few weeks ago, I guess. But like I said, we’ve been through a lot. It makes sense that I’d be tired.”
“Indeed.” He sets down his clipboard and excuses himself, saying he’ll be right back.
I sit on the exam table, swinging my legs and trying not to fall asleep sitting up. My body feels like it’s made of lead, every movement requiring more energy than I have to give.
When Tulio returns, his expression has changed. A slow smile spreads across his face as he nudges his glasses up his nose and clutches a sheet of paper.
“What?” I ask, confused. “What’s going on?”
“Fatigue is extremely common for people who have been through what you’ve experienced over the past few months,” he begins, moving to stand in front of me. “The trauma, the stress, the fear—it all takes a toll on the body.”
“Um, right. So that’s what this is?”
“Not exactly,” he says, pausing for a second. “Stress isn’t the primary cause of your exhaustion, Nevaeh.”
I stare at him, still not understanding. “Then what could it possibly be?”
“You’re pregnant. Blood test results confirm as much.”
He hands over the sheet of paper and my eyes widen, a hand flying to my mouth. The words take several more seconds to sink in as they rearrange everything I thought I knew about what’s been happening to my body.
I’m pregnant.
A blood test doesn’t lie. It’s right there in black and white.
“You’re about seven weeks along,” Tulio continues. “Which is why your symptoms are just now becoming more pronounced. The fatigue, the tender breasts, the difficulty eating and keeping things down—it’s all consistent with early pregnancy.”
I try to speak, but nothing comes out. My mind races backward, piecing together the timeline.
My last period was... it was before everything exploded. Caelian and I had been having sex constantly. Nearly every night, sometimes multiple times in a day. We’d even started seeing that fertility doctor, hopeful but not expecting anything so soon.
Things had still been fragile between us and we were just patching up the rough spots in our relationship.
But it’s happened. It’s actually happened.
I place a hand on my stomach, flat and unchanged, but knowing now that there’s a life growing inside me. A tiny cluster of cells that’s half me and half Caelian.
Our baby that’ll soon be born to the world.
“Oh my god,” I breathe, tears pricking at my eyes. “I’m pregnant. I was pregnant this entire time. Through everything. Am I okay? Is the baby unharmed? I was kidnapped while pregnant. Shot at while pregnant. All those loud gunshots must’ve been bad for—”
“The first trimester can be turbulent,” Tulio interrupts, his expression becoming more serious.
“There’s always a risk of miscarriage, especially given the stress and physical trauma you’ve endured.
But as long as we monitor your vitals, get you on prenatal vitamins, and ensure you receive proper care and rest, you should progress toward a healthy pregnancy. ”
My worried expression softens into something of a smile, unable to contain the joy bubbling up inside me. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for us. For Caelian, and now... this.”
I hop off the exam table, my exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the rush of excitement and disbelief. I need to tell someone. I need to—
I rush into the hallway and nearly collide with Ms. Poitier, who’s heading toward the laundry room with a basket of linens.
Her gray eyebrow arches in curiosity. “What’s going on, honey? Why do you look like you just found twenty dollars on the floor?”
I can only laugh, a bright, bubbling sound I haven’t made in weeks. I practically tackle her with a hug, wrapping my arms around the older woman and squeezing tight.
Ms. Poitier stiffens in surprise, then gradually pats my hair with confusion. “Now I’m getting concerned. What’s happened?”
I pull back, unable to stop grinning. “I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat giddily. “Dr. Tulio just told me. He took a blood test and it came back that I’m seven weeks!”
Understanding dawns on her face like a sunrise. Her smile spreads to match mine as now she’s the one to pull me into a hug.
“Oh, honey, congratulations! I knew it would happen for you two! But you know what that means, don’t you?”
“No more dancing?”
“Well… you’ll definitely have to go easier in that studio. No more leaping and spinning around. But I more so meant you’ve got to take care of yourself now. It’s not just you anymore. There’s a baby in there.”
The reality of it hits me all over again, and I nod, more tears threatening to spill over. “I will. I promise.”
“Good.” She squeezes my shoulders. “Now go tell that stubborn man of yours. He’s going to lose his mind.”
I’m already moving, practically bouncing on my feet as I head for the stairs. He’s resting, but he’d want to know. He’d be furious if I held onto this info for hours and didn’t tell him.
I take the stairs quicker than usual, energized by a surge of adrenaline and joy. Cracking open the bedroom door, I peek inside and smile at what I find.
Caelian’s already awake, propped up against the pillows with the Dresden Gazette spread across his lap. His brow is furrowed as he reads the newspaper, probably catching up on all the chaos our shootout caused in the criminal underworld.
He looks up as I enter, his gray eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s got my ballerina looking so pleased?”
I can barely contain myself as I cross the room and crawl onto the bed, kneeling beside him. The words are right on my tongue, but this is such a huge moment it takes me a second to even speak them.
This is life changing for us both.
So instead, I grab his large hand and place it flat against my stomach.
“I know why I’ve been so exhausted lately,” I say quietly, looking him in the eye. “Cael, I’m pregnant.”
Shock unfolds across his face like a slow-motion explosion. His square features widen, his eyes going impossibly large as the words register. His mouth opens, closes, then opens again. The muscle in his jaw jumps as he swallows hard.
“You’re pregnant?” he repeats barely above a whisper. “You’re growing our...”
“Yes!” I answer in a laugh. “I’m growing our baby!”
He stares at his hand on my stomach like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever touched. Then his eyes lift to mine, and I see wonder flickering in them.
Pure, undiluted wonder.
“It’s a miracle,” he breathes. “Through all the darkness and chaos we’ve endured... we made this together, Nevi. This was all us.”
I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as I dare without pressing against his healing chest. His long, thick arms wrap around my back, and he kisses my forehead and buries his face in my hair.
“I’m going to be a father,” he whispers into my hair.
I pull back just enough to look at him, blinking away happy tears. “Tulio thinks I’m about two months along. So not very far at all.”
“Two months?” He pauses as he processes that revelation, likely thinking the same things I had; that we’ve been through so much in recent weeks and the entire time I was expecting.
“Nevaeh, you’ve been so worried about me when you should’ve been taking care of yourself this whole time!
From now on, you’re the priority. I want you getting proper sleep and rest, eating as much as possible to make sure our son is big and strong—”
“Or daughter,” I interrupt, smirking with a raised eyebrow.
He slowly grins in return. “A daughter of mine would be almost too precious, Nevi. I’m not sure I could handle another one of you. She would run the household because I could never say no to her.”
I lean in and kiss him softly on the mouth, tasting salt from my tears. When we part, he pulls me down beside him carefully, arranging us so we’re lying face to face on our sides.
“I want to take maternity photos,” I confess. “The kind where you’re holding my belly. Family photos. So we can track this experience together.”
“Anything you want.” His hand finds my stomach again, resting there like he’s already protecting what’s inside. “I can’t wait to see your belly swell. To watch our baby grow.”
“There’s still so much to look into… but I think I want a water birth,” I add. “I remember reading about it. It’s supposed to be more gentle for the baby.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He kisses my nose and pulls me even closer. “Whatever makes you and our baby safest and happiest.”
We talk for what feels like hours, planning and dreaming about a future that suddenly feels possible. A future where we’re not just survivors, but a family. Where the darkness we’ve endured gives way to something bright and new.
Eventually the exhaustion I’ve been fighting catches up to me. My eyelids grow heavy, and Caelian’s voice becomes a comforting rumble as I drift off.
The last words I hear as my dreams overtake me come from Caelian.
“Sleep, mia bella ballerina. We both need rest now.”