Novel & Cerita Twice Born Novel

Tears welled in her eyes—tears not just for the pain endured but for the indescribable joy that now radiated from the new lives she had brought into the world. In the quiet aftermath of birth, Evelyn's determination intensified. The city, with its ceaseless movement and unending stories, became a backdrop to her unwavering resolve to protect and nurture her twins. Their arrival marked the genesis of a new chapter, one she vowed to navigate with strength, resilience, and an unparalleled devotion.

“Stay with me.” Julia clung to him through the pain. And somewhere deep inside the collapsing sanctuary— The twins pulsed together for the first time. A boy. And a girl. Awakening.

’ ‘Hope so…’ Kira murmured, she had now come slightly to the surface, her eyes glinting with curiosity. Slowly, with a long breath, I opened it. It was written in a way that was both gentle and strong, like it was meant to last eternities... ‘Gemini—the twins of fate.’ It's the beginning of the book. ‘Two souls born together, destined to cross paths across lifetimes. One carries the key, the other the chain. One cannot exist without the other.’ I swallowed hard, a strange feeling building within me. However, I didn't stop and went on.

Claire Callahan decided to be born at five forty-seven in the morning, as Dublin began to lighten after a night of war. Brigid guided me with that calm of someone who had done this hundreds of times, her voice low and steady like a metronome. Declan held my hand with enough force to break bones, his ice-blue eyes never leaving my face. “One more, dear. That’s it. One more,” Brigid instructed. And then the sound that completely reorganizes reality. A cry. Small, indignant, absolutely unmistakable. “Girl,” Brigid announced, working with efficiency. “Healthy. Furious with the world. She’ll do just fine in this family.”

He takes her hand and they say nothing more because silence now means something new and whole. Time passes—seasons rise and fall like breath, and one day, under the same moon that once witnessed her pain, Talia gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl, their cries strong, their eyes wide and full of new light. The Moonstone, safe in its altar, pulses once with ancient power and then splits in vision, revealing two paths, two crowns, and two beginnings. Bran holds the boy, and Talia cradles the girl George writes that moment as the final page of his story.

Instead, I crawled to my straw bed near the grimy iron bars, burying my head in my makeshift pillow, unable to halt the flow of tears. The memory of the burning envelope haunted me, a cruel reminder of my lost opportunity to discover the truth about my parents, my past slipping away like smoke. "Aurora, are you alright?" a familiar voice inquired, accompanied by a comforting hand on my back. I brushed off the hand, not bothering to see who it belonged to, and squeezed my eyes shut. *** A lash of a whip struck my back, jolting me awake. The pain coursed through me, and I groaned, struggling to open my eyes. My dream had been of a twin. He looked like me, chestnut brown hair and all.

They began to talk, taking turns to tell me about the life they had lived before they became rich and powerful. Alexander and Damien were born exactly forty-two years ago. They were born in a very small, very poor town where life was hard for everyone. They were identical twins, which meant they looked exactly the same. From the very moment they were born into the world, they did not have anyone else to love them. They only had each other.

With Derek’s condition, there was no way he could have another child. On the day I was reborn, an administrator in the underworld had whispered to me—if I hadn’t agreed to be born into the Lewis family, their bloodline would have ended. But I knew this wasn’t the time to drop the act. Since Claire wanted to play her part, I’d stay on stage with her. When I came of age, I’d deliver her a “gift” she wouldn’t forget.

Thunder rolls, deep and resonant, as though the earth itself acknowledges what has just been born. Two. There are two. The healer places the second child beside the first, and for a moment, the room seems to still. Even the storm outside quiets as if the world is listening. Watching. Waiting. “They are identical,” the healer whispers in awe. I manage to lift my head, just enough to see them both and my breath catches. They are. Two boys. Mirrors of one another, same dark hair, same strong features, same steady presence. Brynn and Frynn.

… Later on, my best friend told me how Clara aged at lightning speed and ultimately had to rely on expensive medical equipment to stay alive. Mirabelle, on the other hand, insisted on having Marcus' baby despite the scandal. However, because she was a woman of advanced maternal age who never went for prenatal checkups, her child was born with Down syndrome. She took her son to fight for the Pembroke family's inheritance, but they refused to acknowledge him and even sent Marcus to Rivora to lie low. With nowhere else to turn, she went online to livestream her sob story. The feud between them blew up so badly that it eventually made national news.