Baelakis POVIt was a couple of hours after Cyrus had given me the most intense release of my life, and the heady mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration still buzzed through my veins. Despite the languor that held me captive in our bed, the pull to move was irresistible. I slipped from beneath the covers, careful not to disturb Cyrus, who was still wrapped in the deep sleep of contentment.I glanced around the dim room, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains casting a warm glow over our space.The house was quiet, unnervingly so. The air, heavy with the scent of lavender, hung still in the room. I gingerly swung my legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool floor beneath my feet. Every muscle protested as I stood, but the restlessness had grown too insistent to ignore. I reached for a pair of simple joggers and a T-shirt, pulling them on over my naked body, the fabric cool against my heated skin.The house, with its familiar creaks and murmurs, seemed to beckon
Baelakis POV The night passed in a gentle blur of dreams and soft murmurs. I awoke to the soft light of dawn creeping through the thin curtains of the living room, casting a pale glow across the room. The stillness of the morning was comforting, almost peaceful. Cyrus’ arm was wrapped around me, his warmth a welcome presence as I lay beside him on the floor, our makeshift bed a pile of blankets that we had pulled together the night before. The scent of pine and earth from the nearby forest hung in the air, mingling with the faint warmth of the early morning sun. I blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and instinctively turned my head to the side. Cyrus lay next to me, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His arm was draped protectively over me, even in his sleep.Across the room, my parents were still asleep, tangled in each other’s arms on the couch. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, their faces softened by sleep, the lines of worry that usually marked
BaelakisThe morning light streamed through the windows, cold and indifferent, casting long shadows across the floor of the pack house. It had been a night of endless tears and unanswered prayers. The emptiness inside me had grown so vast that I felt like I was floating in some dark abyss, detached from everything except the gnawing, raw ache of loss. My babies were gone, and the realization settled in my bones like a poison, spreading slowly but surely, poisoning every thought, every breath.I had spent most of the night curled up on the living room floor, staring blankly at the ceiling while the others sat in stunned silence around me. No one knew what to say; no words could mend the chasm that had opened in my heart. We all knew who was responsible, though. The betrayal, once just a bitter suspicion, had now festered into a truth too ugly to ignore.Tina.The name echoed in my mind like a curse. She had been one of us, someone I had trusted, someone who had watched over my children
Cyrus' point of viewThe morning light filtered through the thin curtains of our room, casting soft streaks on the wooden floor. But there was no warmth in that light, no comfort to be found in its embrace. I stood in the doorway, watching Baekalis as she sat on the edge of the bed, her back to me, her shoulders hunched and trembling. Her fingers clutched the bed sheets so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.I swallowed hard, feeling the lump in my throat grow thicker with each passing second. My heart ached, a deep, relentless pain that I couldn’t shake. My children were gone—taken by someone we had trusted. And now, Baekalis was breaking before my eyes, and I had no idea how to stop it.“Baekalis,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a rasp. I took a tentative step into the room, but she didn’t react. It was as if she didn’t even hear me. “Baekalis, my love, please… talk to me.”She was silent, her body rigid, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. I could feel the d
Cyrus POV.I sat on the edge of the cot, staring at the dust motes dancing in the shaft of light, feeling as though the world was moving on without me—without us. My children were missing, and I was no closer to finding them than I had been yesterday. The ache in my chest had only deepened overnight, settling into a bone-deep weariness that I couldn’t shake.I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to clear the fog from my mind, but it was no use. The exhaustion was relentless, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t lift. I knew I needed to pull myself together, to keep searching, but the thought of stepping out into the daylight, of facing the world without them, felt like more than I could bear.But I had no choice. My children were out there somewhere—frightened, alone, and in danger—and every second I wasted was another second they were lost. I had to keep going. I had to find them.I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the stiffness in my limbs, the way my muscles protested every
Cyrus POV.I finally gathered the courage to open the door, stepping quietly into the room. Baekalis was still lying in bed, her back to the door, the blankets pulled up around her like a shield against the world. I could hear her breathing, slow and steady, but there was a fragility to it that made my chest tighten. She was barely holding on, and I knew that leaving her now might be the hardest thing I’d ever have to do.“Baekalis,” I whispered, unsure if she was awake or asleep. Her stillness gave me no answer, but I continued, needing to say the words even if she couldn’t hear them. “I’m going to find them. I’m going to bring our babies back, I promise you. Please, hold on. Just hold on a little longer. I need you… I need you to be here when I get back.”There was no response, no movement, just the quiet rise and fall of her breathing. I wanted to reach out, to touch her, to reassure her somehow, but I was afraid. Afraid that my touch would break her further, or worse, that she wou
Devina's POV.The darkness of the room wrapped around me like a suffocating shroud. I stood there, frozen, staring at the basket on the floor, the soft breathing of the babies the only sound that punctuated the silence. I had turned away from them, but something—maybe that faint, insidious pity, maybe something else—kept me rooted to the spot. I should have left them, should have walked out and shut the door behind me, but my feet refused to move.What was I doing? How had it come to this? Caring for Baekalis’ children, playing the nursemaid to the offsprings of my greatest betrayal. The thought made me sick. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to leave them alone in the cold room. I wanted to hate them as much as I hated their mother, but I wasn’t sure I could.A soft whimper broke the silence, the boy this time. I could see his tiny form squirming beneath the blanket, searching for warmth, for comfort. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to respond. It was
As the door closed behind Nightshade, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The tension in my shoulders slowly unwound, though the heaviness in my chest remained. His presence was like a cold, suffocating fog that seeped into every corner of the room, and even after he was gone, the chill lingered. I walked over to the window, pulling back the heavy curtain to peer out into the night. The sky was pitch black, with no stars to offer comfort, just the same oppressive darkness I had grown accustomed to.I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, my breath fogging the glass as my thoughts spiraled. It was always the same when Nightshade left. Relief mingled with dread, the uneasy calm before the storm. I was his lover, his confidante, but only because I had to be. The mask I wore in his presence felt like a second skin, a permanent skin I could never fully shed. I was trapped in this role, suffocated by the lies I told myself and him. There was no escape, not without payi