Chapter 31: The Shadow Nursery

[Three Months Later]

Being pregnant with one werewolf was hard. Being pregnant with two Royal Lycans—one of whom was a prophesied agent of chaos—was basically an extreme sport.

I was enormous. My belly stretched so far out I hadn't seen my feet in weeks. My back ached constantly, and my ankles were swollen to the size of grapefruits.

"Pink," I declared, holding up a fluffy, rose-colored blanket. "For the girl. It’s cute."

We were standing in the newly renovated nursery. It was massive, split right down the middle. The left side (for the boy) was painted a soft cream and gold. The right side (for the girl) was currently... a battleground.

Killian was assembling a crib, shirtless. The black sun mark on his chest had grown. It now covered his entire left pectoral muscle, the jagged rays reaching up to his collarbone.

He looked up at the pink blanket. He winced.

"She doesn't like it," he warned, rubbing the mark.

"She's a baby," I argued, draping the blanket over the crib railing. "She doesn't have an opinion on interior design yet."

WHOOSH.

The moment the pink fabric touched the crib, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.

Shadows—literal shadows from the corners of the room—slithered across the floor like snakes. They wrapped around the crib leg, shot up the side, and snatched the pink blanket.

With a sound like tearing paper, the shadows shredded the blanket into pink confetti.

Then, they retreated, leaving the tatters on the floor.

I stared at the mess.

"See?" Killian smirked, though he grimaced slightly as a pulse of pain hit his chest. "I told you. She hates pink. It insults her dignity."

"She's not even born yet!" I threw my hands up. "And she's already a diva! What does she want? Black leather? Skulls?"

"Maybe," Killian shrugged, picking up a black velvet throw pillow. He tossed it into the crib.

The shadows stayed still. The room warmed up again.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, waddling over to pick up the shredded pink fabric. "She is exactly like you. Difficult. Picky. Dramatic."

"Powerful," Killian corrected, walking over to help me. "She knows what she wants."

He placed his hands on my waist—which was significantly wider now—and kissed my temple.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. "You look tired."

"I'm exhausted," I admitted, leaning back against his solid chest. "The boy... he's heavy. He feels like he's made of lead. And the girl... she's restless. She keeps waking me up at 3 AM."

"I know," Killian sighed. "She wakes me up too."

I traced the edge of the black mark on his skin.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's manageable," he lied smoothly. I knew it was a lie because I saw him flinch sometimes when he thought I wasn't looking. The girl was getting stronger every day, and her rage was getting harder to contain.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my lower back.

"Ouch," I gasped, gripping Killian’s arm.

"Contraction?" Killian went rigid instantly.

"No," I breathed, waiting for the spasm to pass. "Just... Braxton Hicks. False alarm. The doctor said I have another two weeks."

I tried to take a step, but my swollen foot caught on the edge of the rug.

I stumbled forward.

"Elena!" Killian shouted, reaching for me.

But he was too far. I was falling. Straight toward the corner of the heavy wooden dresser.

I squeezed my eyes shut, curling instinctively to protect my belly. No! Not the babies!

I waited for the impact.

It never came.

Instead, I felt something soft and cool catch me.

I opened my eyes.

I wasn't on the floor. I was suspended in mid-air, inches from the dresser.

Thick, black shadows had erupted from beneath the crib. They had formed a net, cradling my body, cushioning my fall.

They held me gently, almost... lovingly.

Killian was staring at me, his eyes wide. The mark on his chest was glowing a furious purple-black.

"She caught you," Killian whispered.

The shadows slowly lowered me to the floor, setting me down as carefully as if I were made of glass. Then, they vanished back under the crib.

I sat on the floor, stunned, my hand on the side of my belly where the girl lay.

"She saved us," I breathed.

Killian dropped to his knees beside me, checking me over frantically.

"She didn't just save you," Killian said, his voice thick with awe. "She protected the Vessel. She protected her brother."

He placed his hand on my stomach.

"Good girl," he praised the unseen baby. "That's my girl."

A soft, pleased thump answered him against his palm.

I looked at the black velvet pillow in the crib.

"Okay," I wiped a tear from my eye. "Fine. You win. No pink. We'll paint the walls black if that's what you want. Just... thank you."

The nursery was dark, filled with shadows and ominous energy. But as I sat there with my monster husband and my monster daughter, I realized something.

The darkness wasn't trying to hurt us. It was trying to keep us safe.