Chapter 168

The preparations began the next morning. I stood in the kitchen, watching the morning light slant through the windows, and tried to memorize everything. The way the floorboards creaked near the stove. The smell of herbs drying in bundles above the table. The sound of children laughing outside, their voices carrying through the open window like music.

Soryn found me there, his emerald eyes soft with understanding. He did not speak, only wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. His body was cool against my overheated skin, and I sighed, leaning back into him.

"I’ll miss this," I whispered. "The garden. The house. The way the light looks in the afternoon."

"We’ll come back," he said, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "After the birth. After you’re strong again. This place will wait for you."

"But it won’t be the same," I said, and my voice cracked. "The wheat will be harvested. The seasons will turn. I’ll miss... I’ll miss so much."

Soryn turned me gently, his hands cupping my face. "This is just your emotions talking, Krys. You’ve been looking forward to this, yes? We’ll be away for a while, but on a positive note, we’re going on an adventure; that’s what you call it. A vacation of sorts. Plus, you’ll gain something too. A new child. A new story." He wiped my cheek with his thumb, his emerald eyes soft. "The ocean has its own beauty, Krys. Its own light. Caelion will show you."

I nodded, blinking back tears that felt too hot, too heavy. "I’m being foolish."

"You’re being exactly who you are," he corrected, his thumb tracing my jaw. "A woman who loves deeply enough to grieve what she leaves behind."

I laughed, a wet, broken sound. "When did you become so wise?"

"I’ve always been wise," he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. "You were just too busy to notice."

I swatted his chest, and he caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. His lips were cool against my fevered skin, and I closed my eyes, letting the sensation anchor me.

---

That evening, I sat on the porch steps as twilight bled across the sky, painting everything in shades of violet and rose. Inside, the house hummed with life. Atlas was arguing with Chase about who had cheated at some game. Ryder helped prepare dinner with Leon. Somewhere in the house, Niku and Sikai were thumping around, probably destroying something I would discover too late. The leopard cubs were making warbling sounds that meant they were either playing or plotting.

I knew every voice. Every rhythm of this chaos I had built.

Aureon found me there, sitting in the gathering dark, my hands wrapped around a cup of tea I had forgotten to drink.

"Krys," he said, his voice gentle. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"Listening," I said, grinning up at him. "I’m trying to memorize it. The way the house sounds when it’s full. The way their voices carry through the walls." I patted the step beside me. "Come sit. I’m just a bit nervous about what to expect when we get to the coast. Being around more water than land. Being somewhere new."

Aureon settled beside me on the step, his big body warm against my side. "Excited too?"

"Terribly," I admitted, leaning into him. "It’s just... this birth will be in the water. It’s very different from how things have been so far. New territory. New adventure."

Aureon was quiet for a moment, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. A wooden figure, crudely carved, unmistakably me. Round belly, wild hair, holding a spoon in one hand and what looked like a trident in the other.

"I made this," he said, placing it in my palm. "While you were sleeping. It’s not good. I’m no craftsman."

I stared at it, delight bubbling up in my chest. The wood was warm from his pocket, smooth where his fingers had shaped it.

"It’s terrible," I laughed.

"Yes," he agreed, his golden eyes crinkling.

"I love it," I said, holding it up to catch the twilight. "Look, you even gave me a trident. I’m a sea queen now."

"You’ve always been a queen," he said. "Now you just have the proper accessory."

He covered my hand with his, the figure trapped between our palms. "I made this for you. Something to hold when you’re exploring that new world." He grinned, his golden eyes bright. "Remember that you have a voice that commands armies of cubs. Take our kids for an example. They listens to you more than us sometimes."

I turned the figure over in my fingers, smiling. "Do you think we’ll see whales?"

"I think we’ll see everything," he said. "Coral gardens brighter than any flowers. Fish that glow in the dark. Cities built from pearl and shell." He bumped his shoulder against mine. "And you’ll have stories that will make the children stare at you with those big eyes, begging for more."

"I like the sound of that," I said.

"Besides," he murmured, leaning close, "I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right there, getting in your way, asking too many questions about Mer customs, probably offending Caelion’s entire family within the first hour."

I laughed. "That does sound like you."

"Someone has to keep him in line," he agreed. "And someone has to make sure you don’t get too serious down there. All that water pressure might go to your head."

"Then I suppose I’m lucky to have you," I teased.

"Damn right," he said, standing and pulling me up with him. "Now come inside. Leon is attempting to cook, and I think we both know how that ends."

---

That night, I slept deeply, my body finally surrendering to exhaustion. My dreams were blue and weightless, filled with the laughter of children swimming through coral gardens. I saw them darting between towers of pearl and shell, their tails flicking through currents of silver fish, their voices calling out to me in bubbles and song. I reached for them, wanting to hold them, to see them clearly, but their faces remained just out of focus, like shadows seen through deep water. I knew they were mine. I knew I loved them. But I could not remember their names, could not quite make out their features couldn’t even see if there were one child or two. Still, I was happy. So happy it ached.

I woke with my skin burning, my nightdress plastered to my body with sweat. The air in the room felt stifling, too warm, too close. I sat up, gasping, pressing my hands to my flushed cheeks.

"Krys?" Caelion was already awake, his eyes alert in the darkness. "You’re burning up."

"I know," I whispered, my throat dry. "Water. Please."

He moved without hesitation, rising from the bed and returning moments later with a cool pitcher. He poured a glass and pressed it into my hands, then took another cloth and wet it, placing it against the back of my neck. The coolness made me shiver with relief.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft with worry.

I drank deeply, the water sliding down my throat like salvation. "Yes. Thank you."

He sat beside me, his hand resting on my knee. "You were smiling in your sleep. Good dreams?"

I nodded, setting down the empty glass. "Children. Swimming. Playing in coral gardens." I touched my stomach, feeling the gentle swell there. "I couldn’t see their faces clearly. But I knew they were ours. I knew they were happy."

Caelion was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing patterns against my skin. When I looked at him, really looked, I saw the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes avoided mine. Guilt. He looked guilty.

"What is it?" I asked, reaching for his hand.

He shook his head, still not meeting my eyes. "I did this to you. The thirst. The heat. The way your body is struggling." His voice dropped, thick with self-recrimination. "I made this hard for you. I making you leave your home again, your garden, everything you built. For me. For my child."

I turned his face toward me, forcing him to look at me. "Caelion. Listen to me." I waited until his eyes met mine, dark and troubled in the moonlight. "I am happy. I am so happy to be taking this journey with you. To be having your baby." I pressed his hand harder against my stomach, where the child moved between us. "Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it’s different. But I would do it a hundred times over. A thousand. Do you understand?"

"Krys," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"I chose this," I said firmly. "I choose you. I choose this child. The heat, the thirst, the journey... it’s all part of the story we’re writing together. And I wouldn’t change a single word."

He leaned his forehead against mine, his breath shaky. "You’re extraordinary."

"I’m in love," I corrected softly. "There’s a difference."

He kissed me then, slow and grateful, tasting of salt and relief and promises kept.

I settled back against the pillows, his arm around me, my body cooling at last. Through the window, the moon hung bright and full over the garden, casting silver across the wheat I would soon leave behind.

"Soon," I whispered to the child within me, to the man beside me, to the future waiting just beyond the horizon. "Soon we’ll go to the water. Soon you’ll meet your father in his true home. Soon you’ll show me what you’ve been dreaming about in there."

The baby fluttered, a gentle movement like fins, as if in answer.

I smiled into the dark, happy and ready and sure.

It was time to get ready again.