What Survived The Burn のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

Loria’s POVThe room was still.The kind of stillness that only comes after a long day—after bodies have been pushed, sweat spilled, and lessons learned. The moonlight filtered in soft and silver through the curtains, casting patterns across our bed. Simon lay beside me, his body warm against mine, his arm draped across my stomach with gentle possessiveness.Neither of us spoke for a while. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind that only came from knowing the other was there—really there.His thumb traced slow circles across my skin.And then, quietly, he asked, “Can I ask you one question? About the vision.”I didn’t turn my head. Just kept watching the ceiling, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and magic that hadn’t quite settled. “You can ask,” I said softly. “But no promises that I can answer.”He nodded. I felt it in the subtle shift of the bed, in the way his body tensed just enough to betray that the question mattered.“How long do we have?”I closed my eyes. The que

Loria’s POVI don’t remember walking out of the infirmary.I must’ve followed Simon, because we’re heading back toward the house now. His hand is warm and steady in mine, but my mind… my mind is spinning. The world around me feels distant. The birdsong, the breeze, even the soft crunch of our footsteps on the gravel path—muted, like I’m underwater.Four.Four pups.Growing inside me.I blink hard, my free hand coming to rest instinctively on my lower belly—where the faintest swell has already begun to show. It had felt like nothing more than a flutter this morning. Now it feels massive—a presence I can’t ignore. A countdown I didn’t know had started.Goddess, I’m going to be bigger than the house.And I only have three to four weeks to prepare.How in the fuck did this happen?I don’t say anything out loud. I can’t. If I open my mouth, I might start to panic. Simon walks beside me in silence, his thumb brushing soothing circles against my skin. I know he’s trying to ground me. I love

Loria’s POVI was halfway through my second cup of tea when I felt it.A hum beneath the floorboards, low and steady, like the pulse of the earth itself shifting under the house. I set my mug down on the windowsill and narrowed my eyes at the movement outside.Through the kitchen window, I caught sight of Andy standing in the yard, hands outstretched. Audrey was beside him, her staff planted firmly in the soil, bone charms swaying as though stirred by an unseen wind. Magic rippled around them in faint golden waves, dancing up their arms and spiraling into the air like threads being stitched into the fabric of reality.Then the ground moved.Not violently—gracefully. Like it had been waiting to bloom. The soil peeled back in perfect sections, forming a foundation where seconds before there had been nothing but grass. Wooden beams emerged from the dirt, already carved with runes, already shaped and enchanted. Walls began to rise, forming frame after frame as if the house itself was brea

Simon’s POVBy the time I pushed Loria back up the gravel path, the new west wing was done—complete. Magic clung to the edges of it like morning mist, and the sharp smell of worked earth and moss still hung in the air. The witches, a patchwork of familiar faces, were scattered across the grass in small groups, catching their breath and eating from conjured platters and shared baskets. Audrey sat with her back against a tree, sipping tea like she hadn’t just helped grow an entire structure from the ground.The moment Andy spotted us, his head snapped up. His eyes landed on the wheelchair—and Loria, pale but composed—and he was on his feet and sprinting in seconds.“What happened?” he asked, already reaching for the handles, already tense.“She’s on bed rest,” I said quietly. “Babies are sitting too low. Doc doesn’t want her on her feet unless absolutely necessary. And no stress. That’s the order.”Andy didn’t ask questions. Just nodded. “Alright. Follow me.”He led us through the new a

Loria’s POVSimon had gone to help with breakfast—he promised he’d be back soon with coffee and something sweet. I was already missing his presence beside me, but I knew he needed those few minutes to breathe and lead, especially with everything shifting so quickly.The house was quiet now, the only sounds the distant chatter of children and the low hum of the medical equipment beside me. I adjusted the bed slightly with the remote, lifting myself just enough to reach the small rolling tray that sat across my lap.I opened my laptop.The familiar welcome screen blinked to life. My fingers moved automatically—muscle memory guiding me through the motions even as my body fought against fatigue. I navigated to my inbox, then opened a new message. With a few quick keystrokes, I entered the shortcut for the secured Alpha/Luna group chat—one of the only digital threads I still trusted.The cursor blinked, waiting.I didn’t overthink it. I just began to type.Subject: Gathering of Alphas – On