The Sepulcher has always tested hearts, but what happens when Heaven decides to bless instead?
Tonight's chapter walks the line between awe and laughter, love and forewarning. What begins in light may end in shadow.
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The golden dust thickened until it became a living tide around our legs. It pulled at our jackets, sleeves, and hems, not harsh but insistent, like unseen hands urging confession.
I swatted at it, narrowing my eyes. "Oh, sure. First, you lead us here; now you're undressing us. What next, want me to tip you?"
Seth's laugh slipped out before he could stop it. "Maybe it just wants a better view of my wife."
I elbowed him lightly, then brought my hand to my mouth, eyes darting toward the glowing dust. "Behave," I whispered, half-grinning. "You'll make Heaven blush, but I swear those sparks are staring right at us."
He tilted his head, a soft smirk on his lips. "Wouldn't surprise me. Do you know why?"
I slid a hand up, covering the side of my mouth the way people do when they pretend to hide a scandal from the righteous committee. My shoulder brushed his.
"Because they're hiding something," I murmured, barely moving my lips. "Probably judging me for not wearing matching underwear."
Seth blinked once. Slowly.
The corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting Heaven's strictest laugh.
I sighed and brushed a curl from Israel's forehead. "All right, little one, looks like Heaven wants full access." I began unbuttoning his tiny shirt, folding each layer neatly across my arm so nothing touched the floor. His faint glow fluttered as the black mist stirred, then calmed under the dust's touch.
I passed Israel to Seth. "Hold him while I finish."
Seth shifted beside me, balancing Israel against his shoulder, the baby's cheek pressed into the hollow of his neck.
I stepped free of my last garment. The moment the fabric slid from my skin, the dust rose like a sigh, swirling and falling away, satisfied.
He gathered the baby close, one broad hand steady behind the small head. His other hand hovered near me, ready to steady me if the floor slicked. The dust rose higher, curling around his arms and the child as if tasting the energy there.
"It's your turn to hold him," he murmurs gently as his eyes flicker over me, not with lust but awe, the kind that burns behind ribs.
He then started peeling off his jacket, his breath silvering the air in quiet ribbons. "You were right," he said softly. "It wants us bare. No walls between us and the light."
Together we moved into the water, the gold folding around our legs like warm silk. Israel stirred against me, eyes flicking open, the black mist shivering and then dissolving into pale threads that merged with the pool.
The water glowed brighter. Israel's glow steadied, and for the first time since we found him, he let out a sound that was not a cry, but a soft exhale, almost a release. His tiny fists unfurled. The mist bled from him in tendrils of shadow that drifted across the pool and vanished into gold.
Then the chamber changed.
The dust around my waist clung tighter, spiraling as if sketching circles. I frowned, brushing at it. "Oh no, not again."
It stayed.
Seth's brow furrowed. "Max," he said slowly, "why is it only doing that to you?"
Before I could answer, a sound cracked through the stillness. A low pulse. Then another. Deep, resonant, echoing like two soft drums across the walls.
I looked up sharply. "Is that…"
"Our hearts?" His eyes searched mine.
We both went still, listening. The rhythm was smaller but closer.
I straightened in the pool, water slipping down my skin, and placed my hands over my stomach where the drifting dust brightened, sketching two perfect glyphs of light.
Seth's voice dropped into a whisper, half a prayer, half a plea. "Max, look."
The glyphs glowed beneath my palms, side by side just above my navel, each one golden and crowned with a soft silver halo. The pulse returned. Not one beat. Not two.
A layered thrum.
Soft. Strong. Uneven. Alive.
Even the water shivered.
Seth's breath broke into a tremor of awe. "Max… that's not your power."
My fingers trembled. A warmth blossomed beneath my palms, fragile and infinite, nothing like the Flame or the Breath. "How?" I whispered. "Seth… how is this possible? We were careful."
His hand found my cheek, thumb brushing away the tears I hadn't realized had fallen. His voice was low, rough with awe.
"Because this…" he breathed, voice breaking into a smile, "… this is how Heaven loves us back."
He looked at me as if I were everything good that ever existed, his smile trembling with gratitude and wonder. "You are my miracle, Max. My world just grew another heart."
The golden dust rose higher, curling around all three of us now as if blessing one future with another.
For the first time since the Sepulcher had opened, it did not test us. It embraced us.
Seth stayed close beside me in the pool, his hand moving in slow circles over my stomach, reverent, almost afraid to press too firmly, as though he might disturb the miracle beneath. His breath warmed my skin as he brushed my cheek and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, the touch gentle, worshipful.
I turned toward him, resting my forehead against his, letting the silence speak what words could not. The golden light from the water curled around us, soft and endless, until even time felt still.
Then, a pulse. Quiet, luminous, and unbroken.
I drew in a sharp breath and looked down. Israel's glow had changed; his tiny body now bathed in gold and silver, the black aura gone, a memory dissolved into light.
Seth's hand lingered over my stomach once more, fingers trembling slightly. I placed my hand atop his, our joined reflection rippling across the water.
We climbed from the pool, skin gleaming, hearts lighter. The golden dust trailed us like over-affectionate fireflies, clinging to my arms, my hair, my everything.
"I've so had it with your probing and tickling dust," I muttered, swatting at the glowing particles. "Unless you come bearing food, I'm done playing with you, or else you're about to meet a very cranky Max."
Seth laughed quietly, placing a steady hand at the small of my back as he guided me toward the doorway, Israel sleeping against his chest. The golden dust swirled lazily around us, reluctant to let go, clinging to our skin like warm breath.
We dressed in silence, the air still humming with what had been revealed. The fabric felt strange and too heavy after so much light, but necessary. Seth tucked the sleeping child closer, wrapping his cloak loosely around both of them before turning to me with a faint smile.
"You really don't want to meet a cranky Max," he warned the dust, his voice low with mock gravity.
But the light didn't obey. It brightened, reached for us, and touched both our foreheads. For a moment, time stilled. Images flooded my mind of a river of years, seasons turning, and a voice whispering: Return each quarter. Cleanse the child. Keep him whole.
When the vision faded, the light shimmered back toward the pool, leaving warmth on our skin like a blessing that refused to fade.
Outside the chamber, the others stood waiting. They looked like children caught misbehaving in church.
Jamey threw his hands in the air. "Finally! What took you two so long? We were worried sick. Also, I'm starving and I really, really need to pee."
Elizabeth hurried forward, her face softening as she took Israel from Seth's arms. Alec eyed the two of us with a smirk that promised trouble.
"I'm not even going to ask what went on behind those closed doors," he said.
I punched his arm without hesitation. "Not in front of the baby."
He winced, rubbing the spot, but before he could retaliate, I caught his wrist and smiled. "Speaking of baby… we…" I hooked my arm around Seth's waist and drew him close, "… might be pregnant."
The scream that followed could have woken Heaven itself. Jamey's voice bounced through the Sepulcher like a siren. Alec's hand flew out automatically and smacked him in the back of the head.
"Ever heard of volume control?" Alec hissed.
"Ow! I'm celebrating love!" Jamey whimpered, rubbing his scalp.
Adrian, trying to comfort him, patted his shoulder like a grieving widow. "You'll live, Jamey." He turns to us, "How did you two find out?"
Seth placed his hand gently over mine. "The Sepulcher branded her," he said softly.
Alec's eyes widened. "Branded? How? Where? Why would it…"
I swatted his hands away, cheeks burning. "I can't show you here. The spot is delicate."
The laughter that followed broke the tension like sunlight cracking ice.
After a hurried meal that did nothing for my bottomless appetite, we packed up to leave. The jellyfish waited, its glow patient and knowing. We told it we would return every few months to cleanse Israel, and it lifted us home through sheets of gold and silver light.
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By the time we arrived, night had already surrendered to dawn. The groceries and wine we brought along were left in the kitchen for everyone to enjoy. Seth saw to Elizabeth and Adrian's rooms while Alec and Jamey argued over which bedroom had the better view.
Once alone, I took the test and set it on the nightstand face down. Seth came in just as I sat beside it, eyes locked on the tiny piece of plastic like it was a ticking bomb.
He raised a brow. "You peed on it already?"
"Yes, genius," I said, folding my arms. "Now we just have to flip it."
He grinned. "You flip it."
"I'm scared."
He laughed softly. "You? Scared?"
I nudged him with my shoulder. "Maybe a little."
He leaned in, hand brushing mine. "On three?"
"One… two…" He flipped it.
For a heartbeat, neither of us breathed.
Then he looked at me. "Do I shout because this is the first time you've ever admitted you're scared, or because I see two lines?"
I grabbed the stick from his hand. "Two lines?"
We both stood at once, clutching each other, laughing, shouting, spinning like fools. "We're going to be parents!"
The door burst open. Jamey stumbled in first, Alec right behind him.
"We're what now?"
Seth spun me once, laughing against my cheek. "Parents!" he shouted, grinning like a man who had just bargained with Heaven and won.
Alec and Jamey froze.
For half a heartbeat, they looked at each other… and then the explosion happened.
Jamey shrieked first. Alec followed a millisecond later. They grabbed each other by the shoulders, bouncing like overcaffeinated kangaroos.
"We're going to be uncles!" they yelled in perfect, chaotic unison.
Jamey actually did a little hop that nearly took him off his feet.
Alec, normally the composed one, let out a loud laugh, even causing Elizabeth to jump.
Their joy hit me like warm light, wild and ridiculous and perfect.
Elizabeth appeared at the doorway, Israel in her arms, a warm smile spreading across her face. Adrian stood beside her, arms folded, quietly amused.
"I suppose you're just as new to this madness as I am," he said softly.
Elizabeth chuckled. "New, yes. But I could get used to their kind of chaos."
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The alarms sang before the sun. Birds should have followed, but the air outside was silent.
I blinked awake to the shrill beeping and the faint rumble of thunder that did not belong to any storm I knew. Seth rolled over, silencing the clock with one lazy hand, then frowned. The light in the room was wrong.
No sunlight pushed through the curtains. Only a dull glow, like daylight strangled by smoke.
I sat up. "Did we oversleep?"
He crossed to the window and pulled the drapes aside. "It's morning," he said, voice tight. "At least… it should be."
I joined him, clutching the sheet around me. Outside, the sky churned with dark clouds that moved without wind. It wasn't night, but the light was thick and colorless, as if the world had forgotten how to shine.
Seth's reflection stared back from the glass, his brow furrowed. "The sun is there," he whispered. "I can feel it. But something is keeping its light hostage."
Downstairs, the coffee maker sputtered to life, a defiant sound in the quiet. The hum grounded me for a heartbeat until a cry rose through the air.
Israel.
The sound wasn't loud or frantic. It was layered, trembling, and strange like an echo from somewhere far beyond the walls. Since the day we met him, he had endured pain in silence, a serenity too deep for any child. But now, that calm fractured. The cry felt older than him, as though Heaven itself had lent it a voice.
The air changed. The floor vibrated beneath our feet, a slow, thrumming pulse that rattled the glass. The cry broke off, swallowed by the silence that followed.
Seth looked at me, every trace of sleep gone. "That wasn't thunder."
We pulled on our clothes in a scramble, fingers fumbling with urgency. My heart hammered so hard I could barely breathe. "No. That was the world reacting."
We rushed to the nursery. Elizabeth was already there, clutching Israel. His skin shimmered faintly gold, the same shade as the Sepulcher's dust.
Adrian stumbled in behind her. "The lights are flickering throughout the whole house. What's happening?"
Seth placed a hand over Israel's heart, his silver breath curling faintly from his fingers. "If this…" he nodded toward the sky, "…has anything to do with Israel or our baby, then it means we've drawn a shadow."
I looked up again. The clouds writhed, folding into slow, deliberate spirals, like something unseen turning its gaze our way. "Or shadows," I murmured.
We stood side by side, searching the sky for clues until the scent of frying bacon drifted in from the kitchen. Curiosity lost to hunger. I turned toward the smell, crossed the hall, and reached for a bun. That's when the lights went out.
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Seth and I decided to leave the power outage to Alec. If anyone could sweet-talk a blackout back to life, it was him.
The drive to the hospital felt like traveling through a dream on the verge of ending.
Cars crawled along the highway with headlights burning even though it wasn't night. The clouds pressed low enough to swallow the tops of buildings.
Every few minutes, something vast passed across the sky. A shadow within the clouds, shapeless yet intentional. It made the air hum, like the world's ceiling shifting under strain.
Seth tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Tell me that's not a storm."
"It's not," I said softly. "It's attention."
Neither of us spoke after that.
When we arrived at the hospital, the corridors were too brightly lit. The lights flickered every few seconds, as if the electricity itself couldn't decide which side it was on. The nurse guided us into the ultrasound room with quiet efficiency, her eyes darting once to the dark window before closing the door.
Seth stood by the bed, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "So… this is it." His voice trembled with a grin. "The moment of truth."
I gave him a look. "You make it sound like a trial."
"Well," he glanced at the machine, "there is a monitor, a witness, and potential for panic."
I smiled despite the lump in my throat. "You're not helping."
He came closer, lowering his voice. "I'm trying not to faint. Does that help?"
The doctor smiled politely as she spread the gel. "This will be a bit cold," she warned.
Seth winced in sympathy. "She wasn't kidding."
"Shh," I whispered, though my heart was racing.
The machine hummed to life, filling the silence with a faint electric buzz. For a moment, the screen showed only static. Then two faint lights appeared, pulsing side by side.
Seth leaned in, brow furrowed. "Is… is that…"
The doctor's voice softened, reverent now. "Congratulations," she said. "You're expecting twins."
Seth blinked. "Twins. As in… double?"
I stared at the screen, numb and giddy all at once. "Apparently, we don't do anything halfway."
He laughed, grabbing my hand, eyes bright. "We're really doing this?"
"Looks like it," I said, squeezing back. "Twice."
I looked at Seth. His eyes were wide, shining, and a breath hitched in his throat, trembling before it found its way out again.
"Twins." The word trembled in his throat like worship.
I laughed through the tears that slipped free. "Heaven really does have a sense of humor."
He bent down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Or a plan."
Outside, thunder rolled again, and it was slow, heavy, echoing from nowhere.
The doctor adjusted the monitor, her eyes widening as she studied the screen. "You're at the end of your first trimester," she said softly, glancing from the image to my still-flat stomach. "Though I'll be honest, looking at you, I'm wondering where you're hiding them."
I blinked, then looked down at myself. "That makes two of us."
Seth laughed under his breath and nodded toward the doctor. "I was going to ask the same question, but I like staying alive."
The doctor smiled, amused. "Well, they're definitely there. Perfectly healthy, both of them."
The doctor turned off the machine, but the sound didn't stop. It vibrated through the walls, through the floor, through us.
Seth's fingers found mine. "They know," he whispered.
I didn't have to ask who they were.
The shadows above the clouds had begun to move.
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We reached home by noon, though the sky said otherwise. The clouds hung so thick that daylight was only a rumor; the air itself looked bruised.
As Seth parked, I saw shapes on the lawn. Some figures were familiar, others not so. Lady Elsa stood near the porch in her usual tailored skirt and crisp blouse, one hand pressed against her chest. Alec and Jamey were arguing quietly beside her, Adrian hovering nearby. The moment Seth opened the car door, the noise stopped.
I hesitated, and he noticed.
He came around to my side, opened the door, and smiled down at me, "Breath Max. These are friends, not foes."
As he extends his hand to help me from the car, I place one foot outside and pause, "Given the number of people I sense in the house and the front garden, I gather they heard the news, and I need to know who the culprit is that leaked it."
Stepping toward the house, and with Seth holding me as if I am disabled, I grab hold of Alec, who stepped forward, shielding me instinctively. I mutter under my breath at no one, "Great, you too."
Inside, warmth should have waited. Instead, the air vibrated. A low hum crawled up the walls like bees behind plaster.
After some pleasantries, I hear Aleesha's voice break the tension. "Uh… you might want to see this."
She pointed through the window.
The back garden was no longer empty.
Our garden was filled with entities that were shaped with a shadowy human outline. Their thick, black aura was vibrating off their motionless bodies. Eyes glued to us or what appeared to be eyes, but all I saw were white orbs.
Jamey just had to say something Jamey, "Now that's your proper boogeyman."
Seth exhaled silver, a veil spreading over the walls. "Why are they just standing there?" he murmured.
Alec stepped forward, shielding me instinctively. His eyes flicked toward the crowd outside, then back to me. "You've got half the spirit world camping on your lawn, Max. What exactly did you do this time?"
I brush him off, "Back off, princess, and I did nothing." Turning to the crowd, and in a loud voice demanded, "How the heck did all of you find out about the twins?"
This was my last mistake for the day, as everyone, and at the same time, screamed, "Twins." Yeah, who cares about the ghost parade? We're having twins!
Before I could answer, Jamey piped up from the kitchen doorway, brandishing a butter knife like a holy relic.
"Well, apparently someone told someone who told everyone that we're having a baby…" pointing at Samuel, who noticed and instantly moved behind a bulk of a man, "…so congratulations, rumor mill, you've outperformed the doom spectacular."
I turned to stare at him. "You're joking. Samuel?"
He held up his free hand. "I may have mentioned it to Samantha. Who may have told Bianca who may have told Tyler? Who…"
Lady Elsa cut in, sighing. "Who told me while I was making tea?"
Jamey winced. "And she told the Judicars. Because, you know, protocol."
Seth groaned. "So the whole spiritual chain of command knows we're expecting."
"Technically," Jamey said, "they were ecstatic. Until the sky turned into an exorcism painting."
Aleesha pressed closer to the window. "They're moving."
The spirits no longer stood frozen; their faces, if you may call it that, started contorting into something nightmares are made of. Their chins dropped to their chests, and from their endless mouths came a grating, bone-deep hum. We clutched our ears, but even silence couldn't save us from knowing what it meant. War.