Baby's Name In Twilight Novels & Stories

However, Josh Batton shook his head. “We won’t. It doesn’t matter if it’s a boy or a girl… We’ll find out once it’s born, right?” “Yeah, that makes sense… What do you think we should name our daughter or son?” Annabeth Cates asked. “What do you think?” Josh asked. “If it’s a girl, we’ll name her Cecelia, just like a heavenly lily. If it’s a boy, we’ll name him Dawn, in hopes that he stays forever bright like the morning sun, bringing everyone endless warmth and hope…” Annabeth said.

When he entered the room, he saw that the fae child was away from the other two. “Why is she in the crib alone?” Dimitri asked, looking at his daughter. “She cries when they are in the same crib.” Brigid didn't understand it, but it was what was happening. “Why would she do that?” Dimitri didn't understand why one child would do that. “I don’t know, she seems to like the shadows. Have you thought of a name?” Brigid looked at him and could see that he was tired. “Alithyra, Corin for the boy and Amira.” Dimitri named them all with a smile.

"You're going to be fine, Elara. Both babies are going to be fine." --- I lay on the cot for a long time after Dr. Hayes left. Kael sat beside me. His hand on my belly. "A boy and a girl," he said. "A boy and a girl." "We need to name them." "You name the boy. I'll name the girl." "Why do you get the girl?" "Because I'm carrying them." He laughed. "Fine. The boy is... Kael Junior." "Absolutely not." "It's a family name." "Your family name is Blackwood. Kael Junior is a terrible name."

Someone from the corner of the room began to speak. Deanna is holding Dona, while the other two omegas are holding Devon and Devan. Meazus steps forward ahead of Deanna and asks the woman to align their feet. “Moon Goddess, I am Meazus, Alpha of the Twilight Pack. I bring my small family to you. These three babies were born on the same day, just a few minutes apart.” Meazus took Devon from the omega's hands. “This is our first son... His name is Devon.”

“We shouldn’t have gone in the first place—not when it was so close to your delivery date. Anyway, have you chosen a name for him yet?” she asked, and I nodded. Earlier, Wraith and I had decided on a name. “Blake. Blake Ronan.” “That’s such a beautiful name.” “Thank you, Angelina.” “Do you mind me holding him a moment longer?” “No, I don’t.” And just like that, all the pain, every tear I’d ever shed—it all felt worth it. A call came in—it was Bree. I picked it up with a smile.

“I like it too. But I don’t know. I keep seeing this sweet, artistic kid… but what if our child comes out a firecracker like your sister?” He chuckled. “Then maybe we need something bolder. Like Blaze.” I arched a brow. “We’re not naming our baby Blaze. This is not a Marvel movie.” He smirked. “Okay, okay. What about Thea? For a girl. Goddess of light.” My heart tugged a little at that one. “Thea,” I whispered. “That’s… actually beautiful.” He watched me quietly. “It reminded me of you.” I looked up at him, startled.

They were a brilliant, piercing turquoise, the color of the deep mountain springs where the fire meets the ice. "She’s beautiful," Elias whispered, reaching out a tiny finger. The baby girl instinctively grabbed his nail, her grip surprisingly strong. Elias giggled, a sound of pure delight. "She’s like a little star, Mama." "Her name is Lyra," Freya announced, her voice steady and full of love. "Lyra Thorne. The song of the North." Ragnar sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping one arm around Freya and the other around Elias, pulling his entire world into a single embrace. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead, then to Freya’s lips.

"Let's see...the boy, he's strong and brave, just like his father. I'll call him Atlas." Chase smiled, his eyes shining with approval. "And the girl," Laila continued, "she's beautiful and fierce, just like her mother. I'll call her Aurora." I felt a lump form in my throat as Laila handed the babies back to me. Atlas and Aurora. Perfect names for our perfect babies. As we sat there, surrounded by our loved ones, I felt a sense of completion. This was it. This was my happily ever after. “I’m so proud of you,” my mother mouthed, her own tears uncontrollable as Daniel held her.

For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, because that was the truth she hadn’t known how to name. That the fear was gone. The darkness, and the doubt. What was left now was light. The baby stirred softly. Roxanne leaned down, brushing her lips against her temple. “What will we name her?” Ciel asked. Roxanne smiled faintly, already knowing. “Lyra.” “Lyra,” he repeated. “A constellation.” “A guide,” she said. “A song, and a light.” Ciel nodded. “She already is.” A week later, the mansion bloomed in spring.

Alistair and I exchange looks because we’ve been avoiding this, avoiding the intimacy that comes with naming something, the attachment. “What do you think we should call it?” I ask, deflecting. The children consider this with that synchronized head-tilt they do. “Nyx,” Dante says. “It means night. Because it came from darkness but is trying to become light.” “Or trying to pull us all into darkness,” Donald mutters from where he’s monitoring the baby with yet another diagnostic spell. But the name fits somehow, this creature that’s both shadow and substance, ending and beginning. “Nyx,” I repeat, testing it. The baby coos in response and reaches for me with tiny hands. “Alright. Nyx it is.”