Some time after Sylus's birthday events, I found myself in Zayne's office. I had been feeling shortness of breath again and weak and he had insisted on seeing me, to make sure everything was fine with my damn heart that just wouldn't stop giving me trouble. This time, instead of brushing it off, I went as quickly as I could to him.

The air in his office was always clinical, but today it felt like ice. I sat on the edge of the exam table, the crinkle of the paper beneath me sounding like a thunderclap in the silence. My hand rested instinctively over my stomach, where a tiny, rhythmic pulse reminded me of everything I had to lose. I had finally started feeling our little shadow move in there, it felt like tiny bubbles popping inside of me, and it finally helped me feel connected to them after everything. I was thinking on how Sylus took a moment every day to just speak to our little shadow or simply to just put his hands or his face on my belly as we laid together. I kept thinking about all the nice moments, trying to calm myself.

Just as I was doing that, Zayne came in with the results. He stared at the tablet; his brow furrowed in that way that usually meant I was in for a lecture. But he didn't lecture. He just sighed, the sound heavy with a weight he usually hid from patients.

"The results are not what we expected. There is some cardiac strain," Zayne said, his voice level but his eyes tight. "Your cortisol levels are excessively high, and the pregnancy is putting a strain on your heart. The aeter core keeps causing trouble too. In just a few weeks, I can see a slight progression in the condition. The symptoms you’ve been feeling, the ones you are already very familiar with, the breathlessness, the stabbing pain. They are not pregnancy related like I thought they might have been. They're all consistent with early-stage Protocore Syndrome acceleration along with stress."

My heart accelerated so much that I thought my ribs might break "Again?...But the baby..."

"The baby is fine for now, do not worry about that, everything looks good with them" Zayne cut in, stepping toward me. "But I need to run another high-stress diagnostic. I need to see how your heart handles peak exertion so I can calibrate the treatment. But there’s a catch." He paused, looking me dead in the eye. "If you go into that test under your current stress levels, your heart will likely trigger a false-positive. You’re too wound up. If you don't calm down, I can’t test you. And if I can’t test you, I can’t treat you and if I can't treat you, I can't save you."

The weight of Zayne’s words settled over me like a suffocating shroud.

"There's more," Zayne added, his voice dropping a fraction of a decibel. "Because of your condition, we need to discuss the delivery. A standard birth might be too much for your heart to bear. We need to prepare for the possibility of a scheduled C-section to mitigate the risk of cardiac failure during labor. It’s a lot to process, but I need you to think about it. And more importantly, I need you to breathe."

Zayne hadn’t moved from his position by the tablet, but his gaze was no longer on the data. It was on me. on the way my knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the exam table.

"A C-section," I repeated, the words feeling like lead in my mouth. "Because my heart can’t handle something that my body is partly designed to do."

"Because I am not willing to gamble with your life during a prolonged labor," Zayne corrected, his voice dropping into that low, steady tone he used when he was anchoring me. "A controlled environment is our best chance at ensuring both you and the baby come out of this safely. It isn't a failure, it’s a strategy."

I looked down at my hands, feeling the tiny, soft movement from the little shadow. Suddenly, the weight felt like a mountain I wasn't strong enough to climb.

"Zayne..." my voice cracked, and I didn't look up. "Did I make a mistake? Bringing a life into this... when my body is already fighting itself? Maybe I was selfish. Maybe the timing... maybe it was just a mistake."

The room went still. I expected a medical rebuttal or a lecture on the biological risks we had already discussed. Instead, I felt the bed shift as Zayne stepped closer.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

I raised my eyes to meet his. The icy professional mask had slipped, leaving only the man who had watched over me since we were children, even when we were apart.

"If this, this child, this life, is something you truly want, then it is not a mistake," Zayne said, his voice firm and devoid of judgment. "Timing can be unfortunate. Biology can be cruel. Circumstances can be complicated. But wanting to bring life into the world with the person you love is never an error in judgment. It is an act of hope."

He reached out then, his fingers brushing the back of my hand. His skin was cool, as always, but his touch was grounding.

"The only mistake would be facing this with regret instead of resolve. So, I will ask you once, and I want the truth, not the fear. Do you want this?"

I didn't even have to think. The answer was already there, humming in my blood alongside my resonance. I thought of Sylus’s head on my belly, of the way he whispered to the 'little shadow,' and the way I felt every time I saw a tiny heartbeat on the monitor.

"I do," I whispered, my voice growing stronger. "I really do want it, Zayne. More than anything."

Zayne nodded once, a brief, sharp movement of his head. "Then that is all the justification the universe needs. The rest is just medicine, and I will handle the medicine. Your job is to find a way to let go of the tension before I have to put you on that table."

He squeezed my hand, a rare, brief gesture of solidarity before stepping back into his professional role.

"Now, go home. We will schedule the testing for next week before the sonogram where we can find out the gender. Tell Sylus that if he doesn't find a way to help you lower your cortisol, I’ll personally bar him from the delivery room. And I suspect neither of us wants to see the fallout of that."

A small, watery laugh escaped me. "He’d probably break the door down."

"He would," Zayne agreed, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "So don't give him a reason to. Also, make your arrangements with the Hunters Organization, it's time they officially learned why you've been kept off the field."

"Okay, I will do that, thank you, Zayne".

I left the hospital after that. When I reached the house, I didn't even have to speak. Sylus met me at the door, his eyes scanning my face before he pulled me into his arms. I told him about the C-section, about Zayne’s warning, and about the fear that wouldn't leave my throat. He didn't say much then. He simply led me to our bed and sat behind me, letting me lean my back against his chest. His large, warm hands splayed over the swell of my stomach, grounding me. After a while, we laid down and He shifted, sliding down until his head rested against my belly.

"Listen to me, little one," he whispered, his voice a low vibration that seemed to calm the 'bubbles' inside me instantly. "You’re making quite the entrance, aren't you? Causing trouble for your mother already. You have to be gentle with her. She’s the bravest soul I’ve ever encountered, and I need her whole. I love her more than all the stars I’ve ever navigated, little shadow. And I love you, because you are part of her."

He straightened himself until we were eye level as we laid and kissed my nose "When she finally arrives, I’ll tell her all about how her mother fought for her."

I froze. "She?" I whispered, a small smile breaking through. "You think it’s a girl?"

Sylus stilled for a heartbeat, then gave a rare, genuine huff of a laugh. "A slip of the tongue. Or perhaps... a boss’s intuition". His crimson gaze was softer than I had ever seen it, stripped of the N109 Zone’s coldness. "Either way, they will be perfect. But only if you are okay."

He pulled me back into his arms, and we stayed like that for hours, cocooned in the silence of the house, letting the reality of our "act of hope" settle between us. I fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the sheer force of Sylus’s and my own will would be enough to keep us all safe.

A few days passed after that, and then came in the mission lower cortisol levels, or that's what Sylus called it, like it was one of Onychinus deals. But he wasn't the only one on this mission. Somehow, Zayne’s "ultimatum" had trickled through the grapevine, and slowly, the house had turned into a high-stakes wellness retreat run by the most chaotic group of men I knew.

It started with a knock on the door that was far too rhythmic to be a guard, signaling the beginning of a marathon of increasingly desperate and accidentally stressful attempts to make me "relax."

The "wellness retreat" officially kicked off with Xavier. He arrived with a mountain of pillows and blankets that smelled faintly of sunshine and laundry, looking more determined than I’d ever seen him.

"Xavier? What are you doing here? I... how?"

"The guys said you need to destress," Xavier explained. "I brought the best blankets from my apartment. They’re weighted. It’s like being hugged by a cloud."

"The guys?" I asked, surprised "Did Sylus contact you? How? Are you guys like friendly now? What the hell is happening? Did I go into the deepspace tunnel and wake up in an alternate universe or something?"

He chuckled "Well, friends is a stretch. We are not friends, but we have kept in touch, monitoring movement, working together. It's a whole thing. And yes, Sylus somehow ended up asking me about relaxing. He had this idea of me that I was a genius at relaxing since I loved sleeping so much. I wonder how he got that idea"

"I definitely told him, sorry. Look, you don't have to do any of this. You don't owe me anything like that."

"I want to. You are important to me, always will be, no matter what, understand?"

He didn't wait for an answer, he simply walked in and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Now, come on and follow my breathing. In... and out..."

It was peaceful for exactly four minutes. Then, the "Xavier effect" took hold. His deep, rhythmic breathing slowed, his head began to loll, and before I could even find my "inner cloud," he was slumped against my knees, fast asleep and snoring with the force of a jet engine. I spent the next hour trying to stay still so I wouldn't wake him.

I left him there and went to the living room and read for a little while instead, but my mind kept circling back to the test and every time I thought about it, I felt like I was losing my breath. I even reached out to Sylus, and he managed to help me unwind for a moment, but he had to momentarily leave, and I was there at the house, alone as Xavier finally got up. Before he could even speak, I heard a ring on the door.

"I'll get it" Xavier said as he went and opened it.

Rafayel practically broke it down before he even got to open it.

"Move over, Sleeping Beauty, I was informed that you failed, now art must take over!" Rafayel declared as he entered with an easel. "Cutie. We are going to paint. Color therapy is one of the best ways to remove stress"

We, all three of us now, spent two hours painting, Rafayel hovering over my shoulder, sighing every time I picked up a brush. Sylus had finally come back, but he left us to our own activities as he dealt with Luke and Kieran and whatever they were working on. The painting was great at first, calm and peaceful, until I started losing focus, again and making a whole mess.

"No, no. Think peaceful. Think of a fish drifting in a current. Why are your brushstrokes so jagged? Are you angry at the canvas? Don't be angry, it increases the adrenaline"

"I'm not angry at the canvas, Rafayel," I said, gripping the brush so hard it creaked. "I'm just distracted, sorry."

"Distracted?!" he said, clutching his chest. "Bird man! Your Hunter is being difficult!"

I chuckled, because that was not an interaction I thought I'd ever see from them.

As I was settling into the quiet and kept painting, the doorbell rang once more and when I pulled it open, Zayne was standing on the threshold. He wasn't wearing his lab coat; he wore a heavy dark coat over a casual sweater, carrying a small insulated cooler.

"Zayne?" I blinked in shock. "What are you doing here? Making a house call to check my vitals again?"

"Not exactly," Zayne said, stepping past me into the foyer with his usual quiet dignity. He set the cooler on the counter. "Sylus contacted me after the... painting disaster. He informed me that the local talent was failing to achieve results."

From the top of the stairs, a low, rumbling chuckle echoed. Sylus leaned against the banister, an amused smirk playing on his face.

"I had to call in a professional, kitten. The artist was being...himself, and the sleepy star-catcher used your lap as a mattress. Doctor's orders were to lower your cortisol, so I figured the doctor should come show us how it's done."

Just then, a dramatic sigh cut through the room. I turned around to see Rafayel twirling a paintbrush between his fingers.

"Excuse me? I am a master at what I do, including color therapy! If anyone failed, it was the sleepyhead over there." He pointed dramatically at the sofa, where Xavier was groggily sitting, looking completely unbothered.

"I didn't fail," Xavier muttered softly. "The blankets are proven to soothe anxiety. She just...moves around too much."

"All of you, quiet," Zayne commanded, his low, icy tone instantly slicing through the bickering. He stepped into the kitchen as we followed and pulled out a porcelain teapot and matching cups from his cooler, along with a jar of tea he said was safe for pregnancy and had calming effect, and a small container of honey. Then, reaching deep into the side compartment of the cooler, he produced a beautifully tied box from one of the bakeries in Linkon that he loved.

"Sweets are strictly counterproductive to a stabilized cortisol metric," Zayne noted evenly, his clinical mask firmly in place despite what he was doing. "However, localized neural satisfaction occasionally overrides systemic glucose warnings."

He opened the lid, revealing an assortment of pastries. Right on top were the exact lavender-infused macarons and dark chocolate tarts that I absolutely loved, the ones I always craved when I was overwhelmed. But as I looked closer, I noticed the other choices. There were lemon tarts dusted with edible gold, perfect for Xavier. Beside them lay a beautifully vibrant, meticulously decorated fruit tart layered with shimmering glaze, something that practically screamed Rafayel. And tucked into the corner was a rich, dark espresso cake, subtle and intense enough to suit Sylus.

I stared at the box, a sudden lump forming in my throat. Zayne had picked these out himself. He had thought about me, but he had also thought about the others, the men he usually traded barbs or cold stares with, just to ensure the environment was exactly what I needed.

Rafayel crossed his arms, leaning against the kitchen island with a pout, but his eyes instantly lit up when he saw the fruit tart. Xavier slowly shuffled over, pulling one of the weighted blankets around my shoulders like a cape and sliding into a barstool next to me, his gaze immediately fixing onto the tarts with a soft blink. Sylus sauntered down the stairs, maintaining a respectful distance but watching the entire bizarre assembly with a warm, steady gaze, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he saw Zayne's "prescriptions."

For the next hour, Zayne took over the kitchen with mechanical precision. He brewed a pot of tea, the steam rising in gentle, fragrant ribbons that immediately made the tight knot in my chest loosen just a fraction. He poured a cup and slid it in front of me, then hesitated for a fraction of a second before pouring three more cups and sliding them toward Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus, alongside their respective treats.

"This tea interacts directly with neural receptors to dull anxiety," Zayne explained, his voice a steady, grounding anchor in the room. He sat across from me, deliberately steering the conversation away from medicine. He began recounting a ridiculous argument he’d overheard between two hospital administrators over a missing stapler, his dry wit making me stifle a giggle.

Xavier leaned his chin in his hand, a soft, rare smile touching his lips as he watched me relax.

"The tea is good, Zayne. It smells like the gardens near the academy." He nudged my shoulder gently. "Feel better, right?"

"Much better," I whispered, holding the warm porcelain cup between my hands.

Even the twins made a brief appearance, creeping into the kitchen like two oversized shadows. Luke held up a tray of precisely sliced fruit, while Kieran carried a bowl of crushed ice.

"Boss lady," Luke whispered dramatically, "we were ordered to provide support. We didn't touch the tea, promise. We just chopped the apples. Kieran didn't even drop any on the floor this time."

"I dropped one," Kieran muttered under his breath, earning a loud, spontaneous laugh from me that echoed through the kitchen.

Zayne glanced at the twins, his icy eyes softening into a look that was almost fond. "The fruit is acceptable. Sit down and stop hovering. You're increasing the ambient tension."

The twins quickly scrambled to sit on the floor nearby, quietly passing the fruit bowl around.

As the voices swirled around me, I slowly leaned back, taking a quiet moment to just watch them. My gaze flicked from Zayne, who was maintaining his stern posture while subtly pushing the pastry box closer to Rafayel, to Rafayel himself, who was currently waving his hands in a passionate debate about color theory in pastry design. I looked at Xavier, sitting peacefully by my side like a quiet, protective shield, and then past them to the archway, where Sylus stood. He wasn't participating in the bickering, but his crimson eyes were locked onto mine, filled with an unshakeable, profound warmth that made me feel entirely safe.

A deep, emotional wave of reflection washed over me. Look at them, I thought, my chest aching with a completely different kind of fullness. These men belonged to different worlds and different lives. They had every reason to be distant, to be guarded around one another. Yet here they were, gathered in a single kitchen, eating sweets and drinking tea, completely lowering their walls. They weren't here for a mission, or a deal, or a battle, they were there because they wanted to be there for me. And for our little shadow. To know that I had this circle of fierce, beautiful, chaotic protection made me immensely happy.

Eventually, after a while, the tea grew cold, the pastry box was emptied, and one by one, they began to leave. Zayne packed his cooler with a final, lingering look that told me he was satisfied with my pulse. Rafayel gave a dramatic wave, promising that my next canvas would be a masterpiece, and Xavier offered a sleepy, reassuring squeeze of my hand before wrapping his weighted blankets back into his bag. Even the twins shuffled away, leaving the house in a quiet, familiar stillness.

But as the door clicked shut behind the last of them, a tiny, stubborn residual spike of guilt and anxiety flared up in my throat. I stood in the quiet kitchen, staring at the empty chairs, a familiar, intrusive thought creeping back in.

They had so much to handle on their own. They were busy men with their own lives... and they're spent the day coddling me. Was I just a weak woman to them now? A disruption?

I hadn't said a single word out loud, hiding it behind a smile as they left, but the mental spiral was already taking root. Before the thought could deepen, a pair of large, warm hands settled firmly on my shoulders.

"Stop it, kitten," Sylus's voice rumbled right against my ear, low, gravelly, and entirely certain.

I blinked, tilting my head back to look at him. "Stop what?"

"You're doing that thing where you overthink your existence," he murmured, his grip tightening just enough to anchor me as he turned me around to face him. His crimson eyes searched my face, completely stripping away any defenses I thought I had. "You didn't say it, but I know you. And frankly, the others know you well enough too. You think you're a burden to us because we all showed up."

My breath hitched. "Sylus, you all have your own lives, your own battles in the N109 Zone and Linkon..."

"You are our life," he cut in sharply, but with a profound softness that made my heart ache. He reached down, his large palm cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "Listen to me very carefully. If you think for one second that any of those men came here out of obligation, or because they felt burdened by you, you are entirely mistaken. Xavier doesn't leave his bed for just anyone. Rafayel doesn't compromise his studio for a chaotic kitchen. And Zayne certainly doesn't buy cookies for rival men out of professional courtesy."

A small, watery laugh escaped me, and Sylus smiled, his eyes flashing with fierce devotion.

"They were here because they want to be. Because you are the center of gravity for all of us, kitten. You are never, ever a burden. Protecting you, supporting you, fighting with and for you and our little shadow... it isn't a chore. It’s a privilege. Don't ever let your fear trick you into thinking you're holding us back, when you're the very reason we keep moving forward."

He slid his hand down to the round curve of my stomach, splaying his warm fingers over the tiny bubbles popping inside.

"We knew you'd try to carry the weight of our presence as if it were a debt you had to pay. So let me make it clear: the debt is ours, for letting you think, even for a second, that you have to face this alone."

I leaned my forehead against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, finally letting myself completely, utterly relax.

After a moment, Sylus pulled back to look at me.

"Now, there's one more thing that's been planned to help you stay calmed. The twins are, to my annoyance, very proud of it" he said with a head shake.

"More? You've already done so much, Sylus..."

He pulled me even closer to his chest, tilting my face up to look at him.

"I'd do anything for you"

"I know. You've shown it so many times already...thank you"

"No thanks necessary. Now, come. We cannot leave the twins without supervision any longer."

Instead of letting me walk, he just bent and lifted me off the ground despite my protests.

"Sylus, you are way too into carrying me around"

"Of course, I am. My beloved will always get the best treatment I can offer her, now, shush. The twins are waiting"

He carried me toward the private lounging area he had managed to build in after the house was destroyed in that ambush and once there, he set me down near a couch. The room was bathed in red lights. Luke and Kieran were standing near a makeshift stage wearing some vests with "BAD" and "ASS" spelled out in shimmering rhinestones.

"Um, what is this?" I asked Sylus "This does not look relaxing."

"You will enjoy it. Let's sit down, Kitten," he murmured, his thumb brushing my cheek.

For the next hour or so, Luke and Kieran proceeded to act all sort of scenarios, some that we'd actually lived, but all done with exaggerated fashion that had me laughing until my sides ached, and they even managed to get a laugh or two out of Sylus as well. It was a whole unexpected mess.

"We have one final act before the end of this show" they both said in unison "Enjoy, boss lady"

As they finished speaking, Sylus got a message, so he stood up. I stood with him. "Sylus? Where are you going? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. I have to deal with something urgent. I will be back in a moment" he said, "Sit, and for once, don't think. Just watch."

Before I could even speak, he walked away and the lounge lights dimmed before the red-light strobe light began to pulse in time with a deep, floor shaking bass.

I sat back on the plush velvet sofa, my heart hammering against my ribs from pure, bewildered anticipation. Luke and Kieran marched closer, their faces set in a grim, soldier-like seriousness that stood in hilarious contrast to the rhinestone-encrusted vests they were sporting.

A heavy, distorted bass filled the room, the beat so thick I could feel it in the soles of my feet.

Luke and Kieran started singing.

"Badass trigger, badass with a gun (run) Badass trigger, pull up pull up BANG BANG (run) Badass trigger, badass with a gun Goin deeper, deeper imma imma imma BADASS!"

Kieran did a literal backflip while Luke started a high-knees hip-hop shuffle that was so aggressive I started to lose it. The sheer energy of it, taking a song about being a cold-blooded killer and turning it into a prenatal stress-relief routine, was the most ridiculous thing I had ever witnessed.

They kept singing. They were pointing at me, doing "tough guy" finger guns and synchronized body rolls. Every time Kieran hit a "BANG BANG," he’d wink, his sequins shimmering under the red strobe. I was clutching a throw pillow, shaking with laughter.

Then, they both dropped to one knee, arms extended toward the back of the room as they bellowed at the top of their lungs:

"BOW DOWN TO THE BOSS!"

Sylus actually used his evol and appeared on the stage, stepping out of his mist. He wore a red silk shirt adorned with all sorts of flashy things, unbuttoned halfway, radiating a lethal, smoldering charm that was completely undermined by the fact that he was actually about to do something so unlike him.

He danced as the twins continued their song, doing all sorts of movements that had me heating up and also completely entertained. I couldn't help but record them. At one point he walked to the edge of where I was standing and danced in front of me and I could only watch with amazement.

The twins hit the final note with a low, predatory growl, and the music cut to a dead, ringing silence. Sylus struck a final pose, while the twins stood like statues behind him.

I went beyond laughter. I fell sideways into the cushions, howling, my eyes streaming with tears as the last of the suffocating pressure in my chest snapped. It was gone. The stress, the fear of the C-section, the weight of Zayne’s clinical warnings, all of it drowned out by the image of the most feared man in the Zone dancing like that.

"You...you" I wheezed, gasping for air. "You actually did it! You got the sequins! You danced to a corny song!"

Sylus straightened his cuffs, the "performer" facade melting back into his signature smug, indulgent grin. He sat beside me, ignoring the twins as they high-fived in the background.

"Whatever it takes to help, Kitten. I believe the term is 'therapeutic intervention.'"

"Therapeutic? I’m going to die of laughter!" I cackled, finally pulling my phone from where I’d hidden it under the pillow. I hit stop on the recording and waved the screen in his face. "I got it all. High definition. Every hip roll. Every 'imma imma badass.' Sylus, I am going to blackmail you for the next fifty years."

Sylus sat there, his gaze fixing on the phone. "Kitten. Delete the footage."

"Never!" I shrieked, rolling away from him as he lunged. "This is my insurance policy! If you ever try to give me a vegetable smoothie again, I’m sending this to everyone in Onychinus!"

He pinned me gently to the sofa, his hands on either side of my head, laughing softly despite himself. He rested his forehead against mine.

"Blackmailing the head of Onychinus," he whispered, his voice dropping into that dark, romantic register that always made my heart skip "You’ve grown bold. What’s your price for the file?"

"Ice cream. For breakfast. Every day until the baby comes," I bargained, grinning up at him. "And you have to tell Zayne you danced for me to help with the stress. I want to see the look on his face when he hears about it."

Sylus groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder in mock defeat.

"Fine. But if I hear that song coming from your phone in public, I’m telling everyone you choreographed the backflip."

"Deal," I whispered, pulling his face up for a kiss.

I smirked as he pulled away. "Actually, I changed my mind...I will watch this whenever I need to destress! Forget the ice cream! This is the best thing ever!"

"You know, kitten, you'll pay for all the teasing" he murmured, kissing my neck.

"Will I? Well, then, I'll take that punishment if it means I get to keep it, boss man".

He chuckled and kissed me again, deeper this time.

"Remember, I have plenty of blackmail material too, kitten" he said, all smug.

"You love me too much to use any of it, so that's fine. I'm still keeping it"

After a while, I held his face and whispered "Thank you for all of this. You helped. You really did"

We stayed there together. My heart felt steady, strong, and full of a hope that no medical chart could ever measure. We were going to be just fine.

The morning of the test arrived the next day. The air in the testing room felt profoundly different this time.

The high-stress diagnostic was grueling. Strapped to the monitors, my heart was pushed to its limits while Zayne monitored the telemetry from a console nearby. I kept my eyes locked on the ceiling, breathing through the spikes, forcing myself to recall the warmth of the tea, the taste of the bakery sweets, the weight of Xavier's blankets, Rafayel's ridiculous dramatic flair, Luke and Kieran's act with Sylus and the low, rumbling vibration of Sylus's voice against my skin making it clear how much I was cherished.

When the machine finally whirred down, I lay panting, sweat dampening my hair. Zayne stepped up to the monitor, his eyes scanning the rapid streams of data. The silence stretched for an agonizing ten seconds before his shoulders visibly dropped.

"The baseline held," Zayne announced, his voice carrying a rare, profound wave of relief. "The diagnostic is completely stable. There are no false-positives, and the cardiac strain is well within manageable thresholds. The destressing seems to have worked."

I let out a ragged, emotional sob, burying my face in my hands. It was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

"You can come in now," Zayne called out toward the door.

The handle turned instantly, and Sylus strode into the room, his eyes scanning my face with fierce intensity before he came to a stop right beside the bed, immediately grabbing my shaking hand and locking his fingers tightly through mine.

"I told you," I whispered, wiping a tear away as I looked up at Zayne, then back at Sylus. "You guys helped so much... Xavier, Rafayel... even the twins. You all worked in your own way to keep me grounded." I looked toward Zayne, my voice softening with deep gratitude. "And thank you, Zayne. Sylus told me you were the one who helped him coordinate the whole thing behind the scenes when he called you. You all helped me feel better... even if it was a sacrifice for you,even if it was just for a little while, it gave me the strength to get through this."

Zayne paused, adjusting his cuffs with a stiff, professional demeanor to hide how much the moment touched him.

"It was a medical necessity. See to it that you maintain these levels." He cleared his throat, tapping his tablet. "Now... as promised. The high-resolution diagnostic equipment is already calibrated. We are scheduled for the proper sonogram today. The gender scan."

My heart did a completely different kind of leap, one born of pure, unadulterated anticipation. Sylus’s grip on my hand tightened, his eyes flashing with a sudden, rare vulnerability.

Zayne wheeled the advanced ultrasound monitor closer to the bed.

"Apply the gel," he murmured, handing the applicator to me, but Sylus smoothly took it from his hand.

"I've got it," Sylus said, his voice dropping into a low register. He applied the warm gel over the round swell of my belly, his large hand incredibly gentle as he smoothed it over my skin.

Zayne took the probe and placed it against my abdomen. Instantly, the monitor flickered to life. The loud, steady, rhythmic thump-thump-thump of a tiny heartbeat filled the quiet clinical room, echoing off the walls like the most beautiful symphony ever written.

On the screen, the high-resolution image sharpened. We could see the perfect, tiny outline of our little shadow, moving slightly, a tiny hand lifting toward its face.

Tears immediately flooded my eyes, blurring the screen. I choked back a sob, my chest heaving with an overwhelming rush of deep emotion. The sheer reality of the life we had created, thriving and fighting right inside of me, shattered the last remnants of my fear.

Zayne leaned closer to the monitor, his eyes tracking the markers with absolute certainty. A soft, genuinely beautiful smile broke across his face, the most expressive I had ever seen him those days.

"There are the anatomical markers," Zayne whispered, his voice thick with a rare warmth. "Everything is properly formed. Growth is entirely on track." He looked up, his gaze meeting mine, then shifting to Sylus. "Congratulations. It’s a baby girl."

A tear slipped down my cheek as a breathless, watery laugh escaped me.

"A girl..." I whispered, turning my head to look at Sylus. "You were right. Your boss's intuition..."

Sylus didn't answer right away. For the first time since I had ever known him, the leader of Onychinus was completely struck dumb. His crimson eyes were wide, locked onto the screen where his daughter's tiny heartbeat continued to echo. His throat wobbled silently, a profound, fiercely emotional look taking over his sharp features. Slowly, he lowered his forehead until it rested gently against mine. His shoulders shook just a fraction.

When he finally looked up, his eyes were bright, stripped entirely of the cold danger. He reached out with his free hand, his long fingers trembling slightly as he placed his palm flat against the side of my belly, right where our baby girl was moving.

"A girl," Sylus murmured, his voice rough, cracked with a depth of love and devotion that shook me to my very core. He looked straight into my eyes, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss to my knuckles. "I have two beautiful, fierce girls. We're going to give her the entire world, kitten. I swear it."

I leaned back against the pillows, the tears flowing freely now, but the weight in my chest was completely gone. Looking at Sylus, then at Zayne, and thinking of everyone waiting outside, I knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy. Biology might be cruel, and our destiny might be a battlefield but as I listened to the steady, powerful rhythm of our daughter's heartbeat, I knew we would keep choosing each other, day after day, through every single storm.

Chapter 49-50 UPCOMING

Masterlist

Tag list: @thatonegothblond

If you want to be removed or added, lmk. Either way, thank you for reading and the support. I really appreciate it!

A/N :

Sorry this one took so long. I had so much stuff in my life and was fully blocked mentally and overthinking if Sylus would actually act this way, before realizing once more that he'd do anything for MC and he's not above cringe performance, as we saw on the Improvise flow memory and others where he's more playful (especially if the twins or MC are involved), so, I hope you liked how I added the song into this and do not think it was OOC for him!

I said it before, but this story is nearing the end, not much long to go, because I don't want to overextend it and ruin it. Next chapter will be the cusp of the end and there might be a very small-time jump. If my math is correct, this story will be ending in about 3 or 4 chapters.

His gentle touches turn firm, searing his fingerprints into your thighs, as he pulls you flush against him. You whimper and whine "Dad, please…", but his restraint had already been shattered.

He knows your fever could get worse from this, yet your flushed skin, the scent of your heat - it all made you look like the perfect prey to him.

You feel like you're burning up, your vision becoming blurred and fuzzy as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpering and crying his name - your body overwhelmed by fever, emotions and lust as he takes you over and over until your body finally gives out.

But even in his hunger for you, he is still your loving father.

He scoops your limp body up, lets you rest against him for a while, before cleaning you up with loving care. His gentle hands roaming all over you, taking sweat, tears and his seed from your skin with a soft dampened cloth, before he dresses you in a soft nightgown again, the blanket pulled up just up to your stomach to keep you comfortable, while making sure you won't overheat.

You drift in and out of sleep, until your fever finally eases up - leaving you wondering if all of it had just been a dream.