Chapter 41

Rosalinda's POV The room tilts. Not slowly. Not gently. One moment I am holding my daughter , warm, slippery, alive against my chest and the next her weight is gone. Vanished. Someone catches her. My arms try to reach out for her but they feel too weak. Too far away. My body feels distant. Heavy. As though belonging to someone else and I am only visiting. I can still see everything. The overhead light glares down, stark and blinding. Shadows sharp against the walls. The monitor beside me emits a long unbroken tone that fills the space like a scream trapped in the room. I hear Mina’s voice, raw and trembling but forcing calm. “Time of death… 2:55 pm.” No. No. That cannot be right. I am still here. I see the nurses moving, see their scrubs ripple with motion. I hear the cries of my babies, three small furious voices, each unique. My body is heavy. The sheet is drawn over my legs then across my chest, finally over my shoulders smothering me. I try to speak. To tell them I am her

Last Updated : 2026-03-04

Chapter Forty Two

Grace’s POV Five Years Later The alarm doesn’t go off. It never does anymore. My body just knows. I lie there for a minute doing what I do every morning. Listening. Three steady rhythms. Three separate pulses. Each distinct. Each familiar in a way that feels almost as though they are a part of me. It should be impossible. Being able to hear their hearts beat. But since their birth I have ruled that word out of my vocabulary. Moritz. Mason. Melantha. My children. Even after five years the realization still comes with a strange mixture of wonder and disbelief. Technically they are five years old. In reality they look closer to ten, which is the age we publicize. Taller every month. Smarter every week. Stronger every day. I still don’t know how to feel about it. Some days I’m proud. Some days I’m terrified. Today I’m just tired. I push the duvet back and sit up. My feet hit the cold laminate floor. The house is small. Two bedrooms upstairs, one tiny bathroom. A living ro

Last Updated : 2026-03-08

Chapter Forty Three

Grace’s POV Hotel Mia Rosa is perched on the edge of the city like something out of a storybook. Beautiful. Elegant. Imposing. Travel blogs called it a five-star haven for the ultra-wealthy. They were not wrong. Even after months of working here I still pause sometimes. Just to look at it. My first day I felt like an impostor. No degree. No experience. But seven months later and I am one of the most trusted members of the housekeeping staff. Reliable. Quiet. Efficient. Invisible. Just the way I prefer it. Inside the staff locker room the faint smell of detergent and perfume lingers. Lockers slam softly as early-shift workers change into their uniforms, exchanging greetings with those clocking out from the night shift. I change quickly. My hair pulled into a tight bun. My uniform is a simple beige-colored cotton gown. Crisp and neat. Knee-length. Professional. Comes with a halfmoon apron with deep pockets. I pin on my name tag. Grace Montoya. It still feels right even

Last Updated : 2026-03-11

Chapter Forty Four

Chapter 44 Max’s POV No one is expecting me to arrive this early. It is deliberate. Damon had set it up. Told the manager I would be coming in tonight. If I know the council well. They would have people waiting at the entrance like some presidential welcome. Fear can do a lot to change a man. Even Sanguinari are not immune to it. Five years. Just five years and things have changed. I am no longer Crimson heir or Blood regent, but the Crimson king. Five years after her. The private lift dings softly as it deposits me on the penthouse floor. After my return from Cusco the council had been on my back about securing my rule with an heir. They became relentless throwing their half-blood daughters at me. Whatever they had been told was nothing compared to the reality of being in my bed. I was angry. The only way I knew to grieve. For a bond that was never acknowledged. A love that was never recognized. An heir that never had a chance. I grieved and it was chaos... Someone had t

Last Updated : 2026-03-12

Chapter Forty Five

Max’s POV “Sire… Miss Stratford is alive?” Damon’s words hit me like a freight train straight to the chest. I freeze. My hair is still dripping water onto the marble floor. The towel around my waist suddenly feels too tight, too heavy. The name echoes loudly in the quiet suite. Rose. Alive. How? Impossible. My mind races. Th same thoughts I’ve tortured myself with for five years slamming back in full force. How we never actually saw a body. The woman they cremated in Cusco could have been anyone. The records were rushed, the hospital overwhelmed. But how is this possible? A pureblood pregnancy should have killed her. Sancta or not, human bodies break under royal blood. They always have. Even half-bloods do not survive. And yet… I adjust the towel around my waist. My body is still reacting. Cock straining hard against the fabric just from the memory of her pressed against me. Her body is fuller now, more alluring in ways that make my blood roar. Five years of nothing but i