Chapter 198

Lila

“Finally, some quiet.” I muttered to myself.

The cabin was blissfully still. For once, the air wasn’t thick with the babies’ cries. They both slept curled in their baskets, soft breaths puffing against the fabric of the blanket.

It was rare, this kind of quiet. Rare enough that I didn’t waste it.

I closed my eyes, sinking into the hush, and felt Ruby blaze inside me. Her presence no longer flickered weakly at the edges of my mind; she was steady now, fierce, her strength spilling into my very essence.

I could feel her heartbeat layered with mine, her protective growl rumbling.

We are whole again, she whispered, her voice both command and comfort. No poison will chain us. No fear will drown us. Let’s go for a proper run.

Tears stung my eyes, but this time not from grief. From happiness. I only remembered shifting once as a child, before Ruby was suppressed, and I couldn’t stop marveling at being able to do it now.

The knock at the door startled me. Sharp, urgent. The Lucien huffed but didn’t wake. I adjusted him gently and called for whoever it was to enter.

The door creaked open, and a villager slipped inside, his face tight with fear. A young girl lay limp in his arms, her skin flushed, her breaths shallow. “Please,” he said, voice cracking. “She burns with fever. Nothing we’ve tried…she won’t wake up.”

I froze. Instinct screamed that I wasn’t ready, that I was too new at this, still recovering, barely holding together. But Ruby surged in my chest, steady and certain.

“Bring her here,” I said.

The man obeyed, setting the child down carefully on the table beside me. I shifted, placed my hands against the fever-hot skin of the girl’s face.

Ruby’s energy leapt to meet me. It rushed from my chest into my arms, my palms, a warmth so strong it made my breath hitch. I didn’t think, I just let it flow.

“She’s been bitten by a snake”, the words tumbled out of me.

The girl stirred faintly, a soft sound escaping her throat. I pressed closer, channeling more, my own body trembling as the fever heat bled away into nothing. Her breathing evened, her color shifted from ashen to pink, and her lashes fluttered open.

The villager gasped, falling to his knees beside the cot. “Blessings upon you,” he whispered hoarsely. “Bless you, Luna.”

The word caught me off guard, an unexpected blade slipping between my ribs. Luna. I wasn’t that anymore, maybe I wasn’t ever. But I couldn’t bring myself to correct him. Not when his daughter’s eyes blinked up at him, alive and well.

I sat back, my palms still tingling, my chest still burning with Ruby’s fire burning away the snake venom.

I had healed this girl. I wasn’t capable of just easing the ache of my own body. I had reached outward, into another life, and pulled them back from the edge.

Ruby’s voice was triumphant, a low growl of pride. This is our gift. No prison or poison can erase what we were meant to become.

I brushed a hand over the child’s hair, awe stealing the strength from me. I had thought survival was the end of it, that living was the best I could hope for. But this…this was far more.

The villager gathered his daughter up, tears streaking his face. “Thank you,” he whispered again, bowing low before rushing out into the night.

The cabin was quiet once more, except for the sound of my heavy breathing. I sat back in a chair, my hands trembling, my chest still humming with warmth.

I was becoming something new. And it was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

Soon night came and the babies slept in the cradle Ronan had woven, small fists tucked tight under their chins, perfect mirrors of each other.

I lay back against the bed, sleep tugging at me, though my body still hummed faintly from what I had done earlier. The villager’s child was alive, healed. Ruby had carried me through it.

I should have felt only pride. But watching the quiet rhythm of the cabin, something else tightened in my chest.

Ronan sat by the fire, his long frame bent as he sharpened a blade out of habit more than need.

Thalia was beside him, her hands busy with mending cloth. Their shoulders brushed when she leaned toward him, and though he didn’t look up, his mouth softened just slightly.

The bond between them had deepened quickly, as bonds do when tested with sleepless nights. Thalia seemed to know when to steady him with a touch, when to leave him to his brooding silence.

Ronan, in turn, seemed lighter in her presence, the sharp edges of him dulled by her softness.

I was glad for him. Truly. He deserved to find happiness.

He had stood for me when no one else would. He had given up everything to shield me, to shield my children. Now, he had someone to shield him. Someone to carry him forward.

And yet, once again, the sight of them was salt in a wound.

I turned my gaze toward the cradle. My heart ached with a different kind of longing, one that had no relief.

Damon should have been here.

He should have seen this; the peace of a firelit room, the children he would never hold, the wolf he’d never known, now reborn and blazing.

His absence was raw, a wound that hadn’t closed even after months apart. Tonight, it split open again, bleeding fresh.

I thought of his voice, rough and commanding, softening only when he spoke my name.

I thought of the weight of his hand steadying me, the warmth of his kiss when he let his walls crack. I thought of the fury and the tenderness that had lived side by side in him, and how both had left their mark on me.

A tear slipped free before I could stop it. I wiped it quickly, though there was no one watching.

Damon would never know the feel of their weight, their tiny heartbeats pressed against him. The injustice of it stole my breath.

Do not linger in the past, Ruby’s voice cut through, fierce and steady. Our time will still come.

I closed my eyes, clutching at the reminder. Ruby’s strength was like a rope thrown into the dark, pulling me back from the brink. She was right. Now was all that mattered.

Still, the ache didn’t vanish. It nestled under my ribs, raw and heavy, even as I bent forward and lifted Auren from the cradle. Her tiny body squirmed against me, her scent sweet and grounding. I pressed my lips to their soft hair, whispering, “We’ll keep moving. I promise.”

In the corner, Ronan and Thalia’s quiet voices blended with the crackle of the fire. I let their steadiness wrap around me too, even as a third wheel to their growing bond.

Gratitude and loss lived side by side in my chest.

And Lucian stirred too, Ruby’s voice thrummed through me once more: Our time will come.

I nodded, rocking gently.

And that would be enough to carry me into tomorrows.