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Chapter 135: Mine

Author: Zoia Zatserkovna
last update Last Updated: 2026-01-20 18:53:26

Mira’s POV

I had no appetite, but I forced myself to eat dinner; the babies needed nourishment. Every swallow felt heavy, as if my body knew I was feeding them for a future I wasn’t sure I could protect. My belly was already large, my feet painfully swollen, and I waddled like a duck. In just one week, my due day would arrive.

One week to save them. One week to save myself.

I had to be back home by then. I could not leave my babies at Draven’s mercy—could not let them grow up in a forsaken demon kingdom without their fathers.

The night was still young, and the canvas pulled me toward it like a lifeline. I began to paint the beautiful garden I had seen earlier that day, desperate to trap that moment of freedom in color. With every stroke of the brush, my chest loosened a little, my thoughts quieting as if the world beyond the canvas ceased to exist. For a brief, fragile moment, I felt like myself again—not a prisoner, not a vessel, just a woman creating something beautiful.

“Aston
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  • Born to Rule: The Dragon Queen   Chapter 135: Mine

    Mira’s POV I had no appetite, but I forced myself to eat dinner; the babies needed nourishment. Every swallow felt heavy, as if my body knew I was feeding them for a future I wasn’t sure I could protect. My belly was already large, my feet painfully swollen, and I waddled like a duck. In just one week, my due day would arrive. One week to save them. One week to save myself. I had to be back home by then. I could not leave my babies at Draven’s mercy—could not let them grow up in a forsaken demon kingdom without their fathers. The night was still young, and the canvas pulled me toward it like a lifeline. I began to paint the beautiful garden I had seen earlier that day, desperate to trap that moment of freedom in color. With every stroke of the brush, my chest loosened a little, my thoughts quieting as if the world beyond the canvas ceased to exist. For a brief, fragile moment, I felt like myself again—not a prisoner, not a vessel, just a woman creating something beautiful. “Aston

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