Chapter 197

Ronan

The days blurred together, but not with the same chaos that had marked the birth.

Wake, work, patrol, repeat.

Thalia moved through it all as though she had always belonged here. Where I faltered, she stepped in. Where exhaustion would have crushed me flat, she steadied the weight before it broke. She carried the babies with ease, her hands sure even in the deepest hours of the night.

She knew which herbs eased a fever, which songs soothed a restless cry, which foods Lila could keep down as her strength surged back.

I watched her one afternoon, the baby nestled against her shoulder, her hand rubbing slow circles against Lucian’s back.

She hummed softly under her breath, not a tune I recognized, but beautiful because she was singing it. The sound filled the cabin, blending with the crackle of the fire, the faint rustle of Lila shifting under her blanket.

It was a sight I hadn’t dared imagine…peace, in even the smallest measure.

For the first time in months, I caught myself smiling. It was just a small curve of the mouth that felt foreign, unfamiliar. Thalia noticed, her lips quirking faintly in return before she bent her head back over the child.

Something in me eased. The bond tugged at me, urging me closer, but I resisted the pull with the same discipline I had sharpened in battle.

There was no rushing this. No indulging fate while danger still prowled around outside our doorstep.

Still, every time I saw her move with such steadiness, with such grace and loyalty, I felt that vow inside me settle deeper.

Lila needed me, that had not changed. My promise to her held firm.

She was pale still, recovering slowly, her strength not yet returned in full despite Ruby blazing within her.

I would not leave her side until I knew she and her children were beyond danger. Nothing, not even the bond of a mate, would turn me away from that. Whether she was with Damon or not, Lila was the rightful Luna.

But Thalia didn’t threaten that vow. She seemed to understand it instinctively, moving not to replace it or claim a Mate’s privilege, but to support.

She carved a place for herself beside us, steadily weaving herself into the unconventional family we had become.

That night, when Lucian stirred again, Thalia rose before I could. She rocked the small bundle gently, whispering words too soft to catch, her silhouette bent in the firelight.

Lila sighed in her sleep, sinking deeper into rest she so badly needed.

I sat back in my chair, the pain in my side dragging at me, but for once I let my guard loosen just enough to savor the sight. Thalia, the baby, the hush of a night unblemished by fear.

My heart ached with it. For so long I had braced for nothing but loss. Yet, there was something else; here was belonging. And a fragile kind of hope.

Thalia caught my gaze again, her eyes steady, her mouth lifting just enough to show she caught me watching her.

Saw the male beneath the soldier, the mate beneath the mask. The bond thrummed between us, undeniable. But I simply nodded. That was enough for now.

I leaned back, my hand resting on the hilt of the blade I always kept at my side. No, my vow had not changed. I would guard Lila, her children, this fragile peace.

But as I watched Thalia cradle the infant with such care, I wanted this with her too. Children, the whole thing. But I didn’t know if the two vows were compatible long-term.

Still, we moved like a three-part rhythm, each of us stepping in where the others need a breather.

Lila, pale but fierce, insisted on holding Auren and Lucien whenever strength allowed; her stubbornness a reminder that survival was baked into her core.

Together, somehow, we made it through.

It wasn’t easy. Fevers flickered hot across the infant’s skin some nights, sending fear spiking sharp through my chest.

Thalia’s steady hands cooled them with herbs and damp cloths, her voice a calm counterpoint to my pounding heart. When the cries came shrill and insistent, she pressed the baby against her chest, rocking gently, whispering words I couldn’t catch.

Other nights, Lila stirred at the sound, and I saw the blaze in her eyes, the wolf within her pouring healing warmth into the child. The cries would fade, the fever ease, and awe would strike me all over again.

There was a time when I had thought she was broken beyond repair, her wolf silenced forever, though I would never had admitted it out loud. Now Lila glowed with power to rival even Damon.

Though I’d never speak that out loud either.

Through it all, Thalia’s presence anchored us. I found myself watching her when she worked and allowed myself to think maybe peace was possible. Not without cost, sure, but here, in these long nights, with my mate and my charges safe enough, it almost felt real.

Almost.

Because outside our bubble, the world had not changed.

More than once I heard the distant howl of Rogues cutting through the woods. Sometimes low and searching, other times sharp with hunger.

My wolf bristled every time, urging me to hunt, to meet them head-on and clear them out of our territory. But I stayed rooted, blade across my knees, eyes fixed on the closed door.

This place was no fortress. A determined pack could breach it in minutes. The thought gnawed at me, sharpened by every cry from the babies. I could not afford to let my guard slip, not even in the smallest bit.

So, when Thalia and Lila rocked the babies inside, I sat near the door, my hand never straying far from my weapon. When Lila finally drifted into fitful sleep, I kept watch, making note of every shift or scent on the wind, every crack of a branch outside.

But when I looked back and saw them there, something in me dared to loosen. Just a little.

I pressed a hand to the hilt of my blade, grounding myself in the steel, in the oath I had sworn.

The rogues could howl. The world could rage. Inside these walls, there was life, warmth, the fragile thread of something worth fighting for.

And some nights, when the world outside seemed to hold its breath, I could almost believe it would last.

Thalia’s quiet laughter would ripple through the dark, Auren’s tiny sighs would soften the silence, Lucien’s giggle and Lila’s soft steps.

I could see it in Thalia’s eyes when she met my gaze across the room. We shared a promise without needing words: when the danger finally passed, we would build something of our own.

For now, I kept that vision close, like a secret blade against despair.

And I would fight for it until my last breath.