I woke up crying.
My eyes cracked open. Sunlight filtered through the tent. My whole body ached.
The crying got louder. Lyra. I'd recognize her voice anywhere already.
I tried to sit up. Pain shot through my stomach and hips.
"Easy."
Vaelor was there, lifting Lyra from the bassinet. He brought her to me, settling her in my arms.
"Thanks," I mumbled, still half asleep.
He'd been here all night. Still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, hair messy, dark circles under his eyes.
"Did you sleep at all?" I asked.
"A little." He moved back to the chair beside the bed. "Caelum woke up twice. I fed him the bottles the healer left."
I looked at the bassinet. Our son was sleeping peacefully, tiny chest rising and falling.
"You could've woken me."
"You needed rest. I had it handled."
Lyra latched on and started nursing. The pull was uncomfortable but I was getting used to it.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Sore. Tired. Like I got run over by something very large."
"You gave birth to twins yesterday. You're allowed to feel terrible."
"Thanks for the permission."
He smiled slightly. "You know what I mean."
I did. And it was weird how normal this felt. Sitting here with him, feeding our daughter while our son slept nearby.
Like we were an actual family.
The healer came in carrying a tray of food.
"Good, you're awake. Eat. All of it. Your body needs fuel to make milk for those babies."
She set the tray on my lap: bread, cheese, fruit, some kind of soup that smelled amazing.
My stomach growled. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
"I need to examine you," she said. "Make sure everything is healing properly."
Vaelor stood immediately. "I'll step outside."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes I do." He looked at the healer. "Let me know if she needs anything."
He left before I could argue.
The healer waited until Lyra finished eating, then checked me over. Pressed on my stomach, checked the stitches, asked about pain and bleeding.
"You're healing well. Better than expected actually." She frowned slightly. "The Lycan blood is helping. You're recovering faster than a normal birth."
"Is that bad?"
"No. Just unusual." She pulled my blanket back up. "But you still need to take it easy. No walking around, no lifting anything heavier than the babies. Rest as much as you can."
"For how long?"
"At least a week. Maybe two."
A week trapped in this tent. With him constantly nearby.
Great.
The healer left. Vaelor came back in.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Fine. She says I'm healing fast."
"That's good." He picked up Caelum, who'd started fussing. "Hey, little man. Are you hungry too?"
He grabbed one of the bottles the healer had left and settled in the chair, feeding our son like he'd been doing it his whole life.
I ate while watching him. He was gentle with Caelum, supporting his head perfectly, talking to him in a low voice.
"You're good at that," I said.
He looked up. "At what?"
"Being a father. You're a natural."
Something crossed his face. Surprise maybe. "I'm just doing what feels right."
"Most men wouldn't know what to do with a newborn."
"I'm not most men."
"Yeah. I'm starting to see that."
We sat in comfortable silence. Me eating, him feeding Caelum, sunlight warming the tent.
It felt peaceful. Safe.
Dangerous.
Because I was starting to let my guard down. Starting to trust him.
And that scared me more than anything.
The next few days fell into a routine.
I'd wake up crying. He'd bring me whichever baby needed feeding. Sometimes both at once and I'd nurse them together while he supported their heads.
He changed diapers without complaining. Cleaned up spit-up. Rocked them when they cried.
He barely slept. Every time I woke up, he was there. Watching over us like a guard dog.
"You need to rest," I told him on the third day. "You're going to collapse."
"I'm fine."
"You're exhausted. I can see it."
"So are you."
"I just gave birth. What's your excuse?"
He smiled tiredly. "I'm making up for lost time."
That hit me harder than it should've.
The twins were growing fast. Too fast. Already bigger than they'd been at birth. Stronger. More alert.
"Is this normal?" I asked the healer.
"For Lycan babies, yes. They grow at twice the rate of regular wolf pups. By the time they're a month old, they'll look three months."
"That's insane."
"That's royal bloodlines." She checked Caelum's reflexes. "They're healthy. Strong. No concerns."
But I was concerned. Because the faster they grew, the more obvious it became what they were.
Lycan heirs. Born outside wedlock. Targets.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Just lay there staring at the tent ceiling, worrying.
"What's wrong?" Vaelor's voice came from the chair.
"Nothing."
"You're lying. I can feel it through the bond."
Right. The bond. That thing I kept trying to ignore.
"I'm scared," I admitted quietly.
"Of what?"
"Everything. The Council. People finding out about them. Someone is trying to hurt them."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he moved from the chair to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Look at me."
I did.
His silver eyes were serious. "I will never let anyone hurt them. Or you. That's a promise."
"You can't promise that. You don't control everything."
"No. But I have enough control." He reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away. When I didn't, he took my hand. "The Council has been sending messages. Demanding I bring you and the babies to the Crownlands."
My heart stopped. "What?"
"I've refused every time. Told them you're recovering and can't travel."
"They won't accept that forever."
"I know. That's why I'm working on something." He squeezed my hand. "I found evidence. Documents proving the Council forged orders in my name. Including the execution order for your parents."
I went very still. "What?"
"Your parents discovered something. A prophecy about your bloodline. The Council saw it as a threat and had them killed. But they made it look like I ordered it."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you deserve to know the truth. And because—" He stopped. Started again. "Because I need you to trust me. Just a little. Enough to let me protect you."
I looked at our joined hands. He was so much bigger than mine. Rough with calluses. Strong.
"I'm trying," I whispered. "To trust you. But it's hard."
"I know. And I'll wait as long as it takes."
We sat like that for a while. Just holding hands in the quiet.
Then Lyra started crying.
Vaelor stood. "I'll get her."
"No, I've got—"
"Rest. Let me."
He picked up our daughter, settled her against his chest. Started pacing slowly, humming something low and soothing.
She calmed immediately. Her tiny hand gripped his shirt.
My chest went tight watching them.
This dangerous, powerful Lycan King, holding our daughter like she was made of glass. Humming a lullaby.
I was in so much trouble.
A week after the birth, I was finally allowed to walk around.
My legs were shaky but I made it outside the tent.
The camp was bigger than I'd thought. Tents everywhere, Lycan guards training, people moving with purpose.
And they all stopped when they saw me.
Stared.
Some bowed their heads. Others whispered.
I wanted to run back inside but Vaelor appeared at my side.
"Ignore them," he said quietly. "They're just curious."
"They're staring."
"You're the Lycan King's mate. Mother of his heirs. They've never seen that before."
"I'm not your mate."
"The bond says otherwise."
"I haven't accepted it."
"But you haven't rejected it either." He guided me to a bench. "Sit. You're overdoing it."
I sat. He was right, I was exhausted already.
"Where are the twins?" I asked.
"The healer has them. They're fine."
"I should get back—"
"They're sleeping. You have five minutes. Breathe."
I did. The fresh air felt good after days in the tent.
"This is your life?" I asked. "All these people, all this responsibility?"
"Yes."
"Doesn't it get exhausting?"
"Every day." He sat beside me. "But it's what I was born for."
"What if you don't want it?"
He looked at me. "You don't get to choose your birthright. You just learn to carry it."
"That's sad."
"Maybe. But I have something now that I didn't have before."
"What?"
"A reason beyond duty." His hand found mine again. "You. Them. That's worth carrying the weight."
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, a commotion at the edge of camp drew our attention.
A messenger arrived on horseback, looking panicked.
He ran straight to Vaelor. "My King. The Moon Council. They're sending an elder. He'll be here by nightfall."
Vaelor's face went hard. "Which elder?"
"Threx Morvain."
"Shit." Vaelor stood. "Double the guards around her tent. No one gets near the babies without my permission."
"Yes, sire."
The messenger left.
I stood on shaky legs. "What's happening?"
Vaelor turned to me. His expression was grim.
"The Council is coming to see the twins. To decide if they're viable heirs " He stopped. "Or abominations that need to be destroyed."