Chapter 196

Lila

The weeks blurred together into more of a rhythm than a tracking of time.

Wake, feed, rest, repeat.

I lost track of where one night ended and the next began, of when the sun rose or set beyond the windows. All that mattered was the tiny weights pressed against me, the soft cries that summoned me from sleep, the fragile warmth of new life at my breast.

Exhaustion lived in my bones, deeper than battle training, deeper than exile, deeper even than labor itself.

My body ached everywhere, as though carved hollow and filled again with lead. And yet, every time my children stirred, every time they latched onto me with those desperate little sounds, I felt a tenderness so sharp it eclipsed the weariness.

I would trace their faces with the tip of my finger, marvel at the curve of their nose, the way their fists curled tightly only to release against my skin. The way they reached out for each other even in sleep.

The world had shrunk to their breath, their scent, their tiny hearts beating steadily anywhere nearby.

Ruby burned quietly inside me, her presence constant now. She hummed with pride every time I held them, claiming this survival as much as I had. Sahe definitely earned it.

You did this, she whispered once, when I thought I might collapse from the weight of fatigue. You brought them into the world. You will keep fighting for them, no matter how hard it gets.

I clung to her voice like a lifeline.

Around us, life shifted to make more room for a growing family.

Ronan was a steady shadow, his hand always ready to pass me a glass of water, to take a child when my arms trembled too long.

But it was my midwife, Thalia, who surprised me the most. She moved through the small cabin like she had always belonged there, a constant presence.

Her hands set broth by the fire, changed the linens without being asked, guided me with gentle touches when I faltered.

She supported Ronan with the same ease: steadying him when his limp grew pronounced, nudging him to rest when his eyes grew heavy.

I watched them once from the gardens, Auren swaddled against my chest.

Thalia touched Ronan’s arm as she passed him a bowl, their shoulders brushing. He leaned into it without thought, the mating bond between them humming so naturally I was sure they were unaware they were doing it.

A pang went through me then, not of jealousy, but of longing. Fate had given Ronan an anchor at the moment he needed one most. And Thalia fit in well, not just with Ronan, but with all of us.

When the babies cried and I couldn’t rise fast enough, she was there, handing them gently into my arms before I even asked. When my body shook from exhaustion, she set a cool cloth against my brow, her expression kind but never pitying.

I should have felt strange about it; this female, this mate of Ronan’s, slipping into our private circle. But instead, I felt gratitude. Relief. We were no longer two exiles clinging to survival against all odds.

With Thalia, it felt like a complete family, however temporary or imperfect.

I shifted Auren higher against me, her fingers finding my hair again, the small pull surprisingly strong for a baby.

A strange peace settled over me and I closed my eyes. The days blurred, yes, but within the blur there was something steady and safe.

I dared to lean into it, even just for a moment.

When I came back inside, the fire had burned low, painting the walls with a soft orange glow. Thalia moved about the cabin with the same quiet ease she always did, checking herbs, her hands steady even after days of tending me and the newborns.

Ronan sat near the hearth, his long frame bent towards her as she leaned over to murmur something to him. His mouth curved into the faintest smile, such a rare sight it made my chest ache.

I felt it then, sharp and unexpected. A pang, deep and cutting, right beneath my ribs.

As I watched them together, Ronan’s shoulders easing for the first time in days, Thalia’s touch brushing his arm with the unthinking intimacy of a bond…I realized I would never have this moment with Damon.

He would never see the children he had unknowingly given me. Never hear their cries, never marvel at the small perfection of their fingers curled tight around his thumb.

The thought hollowed me out.

I looked down at the baby nestled against me, her mouth slack with milk-drunk sleep, and my heart clenched.

Damon’s child. My child. Ours. And yet, he would never know. He would never look into their eyes and see his own reflection staring back.

The grief pressed heavy, against the lingering ache in my body. My throat tightened until I thought I might break beneath it. For so long, I had told myself I hated him, that I could live with the distance, with the self-imposed exile, with everything that had torn us apart.

But holding this life, the one we had created, I couldn’t deny what had been stolen.

My lips brushed Auren’s temple. “He’ll never know you,” I whispered, voice breaking. “He’ll never see you.”

The words felt like betrayal to speak aloud, but they were true. Damon was a ghost now, a shadow at the edge of my thoughts. And yet, I still longed for him.

Ruby, why do I still grieve for Damon, still crave him, but the bond is gone?

Do not drown in this, Ruby’s voice cut through, fierce and clear. Grieve, but do not sink. Survival is what matters now—for you, for them. I did what was needed.

I closed my eyes, clutching the baby closer as Ruby’s strength steadied me from within. She had returned to me in fire, and now she burned through the grief, forcing me to stand when I wanted only to crumble.

What did you do?

Her protectiveness surged through me. I blocked him to keep us hidden. He’s not ready to be who we need him to be. For us or for them.

You blocked him? My heart twisted, torn between relief and heartbreak. You severed the bond?

No, Ruby answered, her tone softer now, almost sorrowful. I buried it. Deep enough that he cannot find us, not yet. Bonds like ours don’t die, they wait. But if he felt us now, he’d stop at nothing to claim what’s his. And we’re not ready for that.

Thalia laughed softly across the room, a quiet sound, and Ronan’s voice rumbled in answer. The bond between them was new, but already it surged like a tide, pulling them closer together.

Ronan finally had his own future, even in exile. And I was glad for him, truly.

But the pang remained sharp as broken glass, because no such fate had been spared for me. Still, I drew a breath, steadying myself.

Damon might never know, but I did. I knew every heartbeat, every breath. I would be enough. I had to be.

Ruby pressed closer, her tone softer now. We were always enough.

A faint smile tugged at my lips through the tears.

She was right.