Setting: 2 weeks after Demonic Mating Courtesy; Devil May Cry
Description: For the past two weeks, Opal has experienced symptoms of the cost of helping Dante with his first mating season.
TW: Gore, Things not suitable for Young Viewers
Author's Note: Debated for a while if it is somehow a sequel to the last oneshot, Demonic Mating Courtesy, but made up my mind it was like it. Put out this way, you would meet my next gen OCs(For those who don't have AO3/Wattpad, or haven't kept up)
Opal padded quickly into the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat before retching violently. The sound echoed through the apartment, sharp enough to pull Dante from his half-doze on the couch. His head snapped up, instincts kicking in, and he was at the bathroom door in seconds.
He knocked lightly, voice carrying that mix of concern and casual bravado only he could manage.
“Opal? You okay in there, babe?”
No answer. Dante frowned, tried the handle, and found it unlocked. He pushed the door open to see Opal slumped against the toilet, pale and miserable. For a moment, his usual smirk faltered.
“Damn…” he muttered under his breath, crouching beside her. His hand rubbed slow circles across her back, steady and grounding. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Opal wiped her mouth, her voice weak. “I don’t know… I’m not usually sick. Maybe it’s just the stomach flu.”
Dante’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t buying it. She was strong — tougher than most humans he’d ever met — and seeing her like this twisted something deep in his chest. He grabbed a washcloth, ran it under cool water, and gently pressed it to her face.
“Flu, huh? Doesn’t look like any flu I’ve seen,” he said, tone softer than his words. His eyes searched hers, a thought forming that he shoved aside before it could take root. He helped her to her feet, letting her lean against him, and guided her back to the bed. Sitting her down, Dante knelt in front of her, his hands warm around hers.
“Alright. You want me to play nurse? Tea, crackers, whatever you need — I’ll make it happen.”
Opal managed a faint smile. “Ginger tea and saltines… that should help.”
“Tea and crackers. Got it.” Dante squeezed her hand before heading to the kitchen. He set the kettle on, rifled through cabinets until he found the box of saltines, and leaned against the counter as the water boiled. His mind wandered back to the thought he’d tried to bury — a possibility that made his pulse quicken. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet.
When the tea was ready, he poured it into a mug, dropped in a slice of ginger, and carried it back with the crackers. Setting them on the nightstand, he sat beside her, arm slipping around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her forehead — gentle, uncharacteristically tender.
“Here. Drink slowly, nibble on these. Should settle your stomach,” he said, his voice low, steady.
Opal lifted the mug carefully, taking a slow sip of the ginger tea before nibbling on a cracker. She moved cautiously, hoping not to upset her stomach further. Dante watched her closely, his usual smirk replaced by quiet focus. When she finished, he gently took the mug from her hands and set it back on the nightstand, not wanting her to push herself.
Sliding both arms around her, Dante pulled Opal against his chest. His fingers threaded through her hair, stroking it in a steady rhythm. He could feel the tension in her body start to ease, the warmth of the tea and crackers doing their job.
“Feeling any better, sweetheart?” His voice was low, rumbling against her ear, softer than his usual drawl. Opal gave a faint nod. “Yeah… thanks.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, half-drowsy from the early morning and the strain of being sick. Relief washed over Dante at her words. He tightened his hold just a little, letting her use him as a pillow.
“That’s good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ve had one hell of a morning. Get some rest, babe. I’ve got you.”
Her eyes fluttered shut, and within moments she was asleep. Dante shifted carefully, lying back so her head rested against him. He stared at the ceiling, his mind circling the thought he’d been trying to shove aside all week. Opal had been sick every day. She’d missed her period. She wasn’t the type to get knocked down by something as simple as the flu. The pieces were starting to line up, and Dante’s pulse quickened. He looked down at her sleeping face, softened in peace. The idea of her carrying his child hit him like a punch — equal parts awe, protectiveness, and a flicker of fear. Dante wasn’t the type to plan, but this? This was different. His hand drifted back to her stomach, resting there with a gentleness that contrasted his usual rough edges. He knew he’d have to talk to her when she woke, confirm what his gut was telling him. But for now, he stayed still, holding her close, letting the quiet moment sink in. For once, Dante didn’t feel the need to crack a joke or hide behind bravado. He just wanted to be here — with her, in this fragile peace — before the world inevitably came crashing back in.
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The afternoon light slanted through the blinds of Devil May Cry, painting the office in muted gold. Opal stirred awake, blinking groggily before noticing a familiar figure leaning against the doorway.
“Elias… hey,” she murmured, surprised. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Elias stepped forward, his expression calm but edged with concern. “Dante called me. Said you’ve been dealing with nausea for a couple of weeks now.”
Opal nodded faintly, brushing her hair back. “Yeah… and my moon week’s supposed to be next week. Where’s Dante?”
“He’s in the kitchen,” Elias replied, his amber eyes steady on her. “Making more ginger tea. He asked me to check in while he finished up.”
He crossed the room and sat carefully on the edge of the bed, studying her face. Elias had always admired Opal’s resilience, but seeing her pale and worn unsettled him.
“Dante’s worried,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t like seeing you knocked down like this. Neither do I.”
Opal gave a faint smile. “Well, you were the one who had my back at the Viperias… especially after I got kicked out.”
She shifted upright, voice low but steady. “All I know is… I helped Dante when that demonic mating instinct hit him. Since then, I’ve been queasy, avoiding smells I used to like, and exhausted. I nearly fell asleep on a hunt.”
Elias listened, his brow furrowing deeper with each detail. Silence stretched before realization dawned. His eyes widened slightly, and he leaned closer.
“Opal… do you think there’s a chance you might be pregnant?” His voice was hushed, careful. Her eyes snapped open fully, the weight of the word hitting her. “Pregnant? As in… being a mother?”
She shook her head, conflicted. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m fit for that. Most of my life was survival — the streets, Angeline’s abuse… I don’t know if I can be a mother.”
Elias reached for her hand, squeezing gently. “Opal, listen. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve faced things most couldn’t survive, and you came out standing. That doesn’t change if you become a mother.”
He held her gaze, voice steady. “You’ve already shown compassion — the way you stood by Dante when his instincts overwhelmed him. That’s not weakness. That’s love. And it’s proof you’ve got more to give than you realize.”
Opal’s breath trembled. “You really think… I could do this?”
“I know you could,” Elias said firmly. “And you wouldn’t be alone. Dante would be right there beside you. So would I.”
Opal exhaled slowly, the weight of his words settling. “There’s… a test for this, right?”
“Yes,” Elias nodded. “A pregnancy test. Simple, straightforward. If you want, we’ll get one. Whatever happens, you’ll have support.”
He stood, still holding her hand. “Let’s talk to Dante. Figure this out together.”
Opal hesitated, then asked softly, “How’s Lady holding up… after Temen-ni-gru? After her father?”
Elias’s expression softened. “She’s managing. Training hard, keeping busy. But the scars are still there. Dante’s been listening as well as I have when she needs it. She’s strong — like you — but healing takes time.”
He offered his hand to help her up. “Come on. Dante’s waiting. Whatever this turns out to be, you won’t face it alone.”
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Opal sat in the bathroom, staring at the test as the minutes ticked by. Her heart hammered in her chest, thoughts racing. Dante was waiting just outside, restless as ever. When the result finally appeared, she covered her mouth with her hand, breath catching. Two bold lines. Positive. She was pregnant — carrying Dante’s child. Their child. She opened the door slowly, the test clutched in her hand. Dante looked up, his usual easy grin faltering as his eyes locked on the result. For a moment, his world stopped.
“Opal… is this…?” His voice trailed off, rough around the edges, searching her face for confirmation. She nodded, tears already welling. Dante’s disbelief melted into a slow, crooked smile — the kind that carried both awe and mischief. He was going to be a father.
In an instant, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. His forehead pressed against hers, his blue-gray eyes shining with emotion he rarely let anyone see. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he whispered, voice thick. “Guess that makes me a dad.”
Opal’s tears spilled over as she choked out, “I’m so lucky… I love you so damn much.”
Dante cupped her face, thumbs brushing away her tears. He kissed her softly, pouring all the affection he usually hid behind jokes and bravado into that moment. When he pulled back, his grin returned, tempered by tenderness.
“I love you too, babe. More than anything in this world… or the next,” he murmured, resting his hand against her stomach. The thought of the life growing inside her sent a rush of protectiveness through him. Then, true to form, his grin turned wicked. “Y’know, they say pregnant women get cravings. Whatever you want — pizza, strawberry sundaes, hell, even demon blood if that’s what it takes — I’ll make it happen.”
Opal laughed through her tears, shaking her head. “You’re such a dork.”
“Guilty,” Dante chuckled, nuzzling into her neck. “But I’m your dork. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Her laughter softened into quiet sobs, mood swinging between joy and overwhelm. Dante found it endearing, brushing her tears away with a smirk. “You crying and laughing at the same time? That’s music to my ears, sweetheart.”
He kissed her forehead, then her nose, before claiming her lips again in a slow, tender kiss. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers, voice low but steady. “It’s a lot, I know. But we’ll handle it. Together. You, me, and the kid. Forever.”
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For the past week, since they found out, Dante has found himself watching her more closely, listening for the smallest sign of discomfort.
Opal sat on the edge of the bed now, one hand resting on her slightly swollen stomach, the other holding a cooling cloth against her chest. She winced softly, adjusting it, “Now I’m currently debating if my moon week or pregnancy is worse when it comes to tender breasts.”
Dante stepped into the room, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. He caught sight of her with the cloth draped across her chest, rubbing her belly, and his usual smirk faded into something softer. He crossed the room and sat beside her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.
“Hey… how’re you feeling now?” His voice was low, steady, carrying concern beneath the casual tone. “I know these past few weeks have been rough — morning sickness, fatigue, all of it.”
His hand drifted down to her stomach, rubbing slow circles against the slight swell. Opal sighed. “Just my body being sore and tender. But from the book Elias gave me, it said it’s normal for a while.”
Dante nodded, remembering Elias’s gift. “Yeah, I read that too. Figures. Doesn’t mean I like seeing you hurting, though.”
“Looks like the little one’s already making their presence known, even if it’s only been three weeks,” he murmured, pride and wonder flickering in his eyes. Glancing up, he noticed the cooling cloth and the way she rubbed her breasts. His brow furrowed. Dante knew Opal had always struggled with her moon week, but this was different. He hated seeing her in pain. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to her cheek. “Sore and tender’s part of the process, babe. Your body’s doing something incredible, growing our little one. I know it’s not easy, but I’m proud of you. More than I can say.”
His hand drifted lower, cupping her breast with unusual gentleness. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, and his frown deepened. “Is there anything I can do to help, my love? I know I can’t take the pain away, but I want to be here for you in any way I can.”
Opal’s lips curved faintly. “Just you being here is alright.”
That hit Dante harder than he expected. Warmth spread through his chest, a deep sense of love and contentment washing over him. He tightened his hold, letting her rest her head against his shoulder, his fingers stroking her hair.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be right here beside you, loving and supporting you every step of the way. You and our little one mean everything to me.”
He paused, his voice softening further. “I know this isn’t easy, but I want you to know I’m proud of you. You’re the strongest, most amazing woman I know. I feel lucky as hell to have you as my partner in this crazy, beautiful ride called parenthood.”
His hand returned to her belly, resting there with reverence. “Our little one’s lucky to have a mother like you. I can’t wait to watch you blossom and grow with them inside you.”
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As it slowly gets to the second trimester, Opal slept soundly in Dante’s arms, her breathing steady. Dante lay awake, listening — not just to her heartbeat, but something else. His eyes snapped open as he caught it: a second rhythm, faster, distinct, pulsing in time with hers. He held his breath, hardly daring to believe it. Slowly, he slid his hand down to her belly, feeling the gentle swell beneath his palm.
There it was again. Two heartbeats.
A crooked smile tugged at his lips, disbelief mixing with awe. Twins. Two lives, growing inside the woman he loved more than anything. For once, Dante felt tears sting his eyes, the weight of the moment breaking through his usual bravado. He leaned down, pressing a reverent kiss to her lips, pouring all his love into that simple gesture. Opal stirred, humming softly. “Dante… you okay?”
He blinked back the tears, forcing his voice steady. “More than okay, babe. I just… I felt the babies’ heartbeats. Both of them. Strong. Perfect.”
Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face even as she kept her tone calm. “Little ones? As in… wait. You can hear heartbeats?”
Dante met her gaze, excitement flickering with a hint of nervousness. He squeezed her hand gently. “Opal… we’re not just having one baby. We’re having twins.”
“Twins!?” The word left her lips sharp, startled. She froze, her body stiffening, though her voice stayed measured. “I… guess that explains why I’ve been more tired. Heavier. My body feels like it’s carrying more than it should.”
Dante saw the shock in her eyes, even beneath her calm delivery. He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know it’s a lot. I wasn’t expecting it either. But I can’t help feeling… grateful. Happy.”
Opal swallowed hard, her voice steady but edged with disbelief. “We were going to see if Elias could help me sense their auras tomorrow… maybe even figure out the genders. He knows I’m pregnant, but twins? That’s… that’s a whole different ball game.”
Dante chuckled softly, though his eyes stayed serious. “Yeah. Elias is sharp, but I bet even he didn’t see this curveball coming. Can’t wait to see his face when he realizes you’re carrying two perfect little troublemakers.”
His hand drifted back to her stomach, rubbing slow circles against the swell. “Still blows my mind. Two lives. Ours. Strong, healthy… and already giving me more to fight for than ever.”
Opal exhaled, her calm tone betraying the tremor of shock beneath it. “It’s overwhelming, Dante. But knowing you’re here… it makes it easier.”
He kissed her forehead again, whispering against her skin. “I’m here. Always. You, them, us — nothing’s gonna touch this family.”
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As morning came, Dante and Opal sat side by side on the worn leather couch, their hands linked, while Elias stood before them, centering himself for the task ahead.
Opal tilted her head, her voice quiet but curious. “I suppose you did this often when you were a butler for the Viperias… before you even met me back then?”
Elias’s eyes softened, a flicker of nostalgia crossing his features. “I did indeed, Opal. As the Viperia family’s butler, it was one of my duties to sense and assess the auras of children they were expecting. I could often determine the gender… sometimes even catch glimpses of their potential.” His deep voice carried a low, wistful note, but steadied as he turned his focus back to her. He placed his hands gently over her belly, closing his eyes. Dante leaned forward slightly, watching with a mix of skepticism and anticipation. The room fell silent as Elias reached deeper with his senses. He felt the familiar warmth of Opal’s aura, Dante’s steady presence beside her… and then, his eyes widened. Two distinct sparks pulsed within her womb. Opening his eyes, the silver speckles in his irises seemed to shimmer as he allowed a small, surprised smile. “Opal, Dante… this is a wonderful surprise. You are not expecting one child, but two.”
Opal let out a nervous chuckle, though her voice carried the shock she couldn’t hide. “Well… Dante figured that out last night when he heard two heartbeats. At first I thought he was crazy, but then I remembered… demons can hear heartbeats from miles away.”
Elias nodded, admiration flickering across his face. “Indeed. Your senses served you well, Dante. It is rare for anyone to detect such a thing so early.”
Dante smirked faintly, though his eyes betrayed the awe he felt. “Guess being half-demon finally paid off in a way that doesn’t involve killing something.”
Elias’s hands lingered over Opal’s stomach, his violet eyes glowing faintly as he focused again. “I can confirm they are healthy, thriving… and as for the genders…” He paused, savoring the moment. “You are expecting two beautiful daughters.”
Opal’s breath caught, her hand tightening around Dante’s. “Daughters… and I’m assuming they’re both half-cambions?” Her tone was calm, but the disbelief in her voice was unmistakable.
“Yes,” Elias said solemnly. “They will carry both human and demonic heritage, much like Dante. Raising cambion children will bring challenges — they will need guidance to understand and control their abilities. But with your love and strength, they will grow balanced, compassionate, and strong.”
Dante’s jaw tightened, memories of his own childhood surfacing. Vergil’s coldness, the endless fights, the loneliness. His hand squeezed Opal’s, grounding himself. “Yeah… I know what that road looks like. But I’ll be damned if our girls go through what I did.”
Opal cupped his cheek, her touch steady. “Then we break the cycle, Dante. As long as we do our best, that’s all that matters.”
He leaned into her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You’re right. With you by my side, we’ll give them a home filled with love and acceptance. A place where they’ll never doubt who they are.”
Pulling her close, Dante wrapped his arms around her, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you, Opal. More than anything. Together, we’ll give our girls the world.”
Opal’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Son of Sparda or not… they’ll be lucky to have a father like you.”
Dante’s eyes shimmered, unshed tears catching the light. He held her tighter, overwhelmed by gratitude and determination. Elias watched quietly, his violet eyes with silver speckles reflecting the morning glow. He smiled faintly, knowing for certain now — Opal had found her happiness with Dante, even if the path had been unexpected.
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The third trimester pressed down on Opal with its full weight. Every day brought new challenges — the constant trips to the bathroom, the heaviness in her body, the fatigue that clung to her like a shadow. Yet even in the midst of discomfort, she found herself smiling as she and Dante finished setting up the nursery in the guest room. Dante insisted she rest, but she caught him sneaking in extra touches, making sure everything was perfect.
They had agreed on a home water birth, honoring her family’s tradition. Dante had gone further, arranging the space with care: the bath prepared, crystals laid neatly beside their bed — selenite, clear and smoky quartz, moonstone — each one shimmering faintly in the warm light. Watching him work, Opal felt her heart swell. Dante wasn’t just preparing for their daughters; he was embracing her traditions, her world, and weaving them into his own. When he turned to her, his blue-gray eyes softened. Pulling her into his arms, he whispered, “I love you so much, Opal. Thank you for bringing light, love, and tradition into our lives. I can’t wait to welcome our daughters into this world you’ve created for them.”
Opal smiled, her voice tender but steady. “Even if you had every right to prepare, all this made me love you even more than before.”
Dante’s chest tightened at her words. He cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. “I know I’m not perfect. But I promise to do everything in my power to love, support, and cherish you — now and for the rest of our lives. Our daughters are lucky to have you as their mother. And me? I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling in quiet reverence. The moment was broken by the creak of the shop door and Elias’s voice calling out. Opal’s expression shifted instantly. She felt it — auras outside, heavy and wrong. “Oh no.”
Dante’s instincts flared. He pushed her gently behind him, his eyes narrowing as demonic energy surged through his veins. “Stay here, Opal. Keep our daughters safe. I won’t let anything touch this family.”
Elias entered with the midwife, his violet eyes with silver speckles flashing as he sensed the intruders. “We have an uninvited guest. Demonic aura. Dante, you’ll need to handle this.”
Dante pressed a fierce kiss to Opal’s lips, whispering, “I love you. Stay strong. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Be safe,” she whispered back, her voice trembling but resolute. Outside, multiple class D demons swarmed. Elias’s whip cracked through the air, while Dante drew Rebellion, the sword humming with Sparda’s legacy.
“Don’t let them inside,” Elias barked, lashing out at the nearest demon. Dante’s eyes flashed crimson as he met the charge head-on. Rebellion sang through the air, cleaving a demon’s neck cleanly. Black blood sprayed, but Dante didn’t pause. Another lunged for the shop — he drove Rebellion through its chest, ripping free with a snarl.
Inside, Opal gasped as her water broke. The midwife steadied her, guiding her toward the bath Dante had prepared. “Miss Opal, it’s time.”
Opal looked out the window one last time, watching Dante and Elias fight with ferocity, before bracing herself for the contractions.
Outside, Dante fought like a man possessed. Every swing of Rebellion was fueled by rage and love, every strike a vow to protect his family. Elias fought beside him, his whip cracking like lightning, the two cutting down the horde with brutal precision.
Panting, Dante turned to Elias after the last demon fell. “Why are they after Opal? What do they want?”
Elias’s whip snapped through another demon before he answered grimly. “Mundus. He must have caught wind of your children. His obsession with Sparda’s blood hasn’t died. He wants revenge.”
Dante’s grip tightened on Rebellion, his knuckles white. Rage burned in his chest, but he forced himself to stay focused. “Take care of Opal and the babies. Keep them safe. I’ll end this.”
His Devil Trigger surged, wings unfurling as his aura flared. He launched himself at the remaining demons, tearing through them with relentless fury.
Inside, Opal gritted her teeth, her body wracked with contractions. The midwife channeled the soothing energy of the crystals, guiding her through each wave. Elias returned briefly, placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice calm despite the chaos. “You’re doing beautifully, Opal. Keep breathing. Dante will be back before you know it. Together, we’ll welcome your daughters safely.”
Opal vented, her voice trembling with frustration even as another contraction wracked her body. “I don’t understand… this was supposed to be a day without worry. The last thing I wanted was demons at our doorstep. Why now, of all days?”
Elias squeezed her shoulder gently, violet eyes with silver speckles steady and calm. He understood her fear — this was meant to be a day of joy, not battle. Leaning close, his voice dropped to a soothing tone. “I don’t have all the answers, Opal. But sometimes life throws its worst curveballs when we least expect them. What matters is how we face them. You and Dante are strong enough to overcome anything.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully. “As for why now… I suspect Mundus sensed the powerful, innocent souls within you. He saw an opportunity to strike. But Dante is out there fighting for you, for your daughters, for the life you’ve built together. Have faith in him. He won’t let anything happen to you or the babies.”
Opal nodded, though her face tightened as another contraction hit like a crushing wave. She was close — closer than she had ever been — but she held on, determined to bring her children into the world. The midwife urged her to push, and just as she did, the door creaked open. Elias’s whip was in his hand instantly, but what entered was Dante — bloodied, battered, his wounds already knitting closed thanks to his demonic regeneration. He leaned against the doorframe, chest heaving, his eyes burning with exhaustion and relief. Elias rushed to steady him, helping him toward the room. And then they heard it — not Opal’s cries, but the sharp, piercing cry of an infant. One cry… then another. Dante froze, his heart lurching. He staggered forward, and when he entered, the sight nearly dropped him to his knees. Opal, pale but radiant, cradled two tiny bundles against her chest. Their daughters. Small tufts of white hair glistened against bronze skin, their cries softening as they nestled into their mother’s warmth. Dante’s lips curved into a relieved, disbelieving smile. Opal’s tears shimmered as she looked up at him. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
Dante limped closer, his body aching but his heart swelling with joy. He brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead, pressing a kiss there. “You did it, love.”
Sitting beside her, Dante wrapped his arm around her shoulders, gazing down at their daughters. Their tiny faces, their fragile cries — it was more beautiful than anything he had ever fought for.
“I’m here, Opal. I’ll always be here. For you, for them. No matter what comes, we’ll face it together.”
The midwife gently lifted the younger twin and placed her into Dante’s arms. Elias’s voice was quiet but warm. “Congratulations, Dante. Two beautiful daughters… and someone like Opal to share them with.”
Dante looked up, gratitude flickering in his blue-gray eyes. “Thanks, Elias. I know I’m the luckiest man alive.” He gazed down at the tiny girl in his arms, his chest tightening with protectiveness, “I’ll move heaven and hell to keep them safe.”
The younger twin blinked, her eyes opening to reveal a gray-green hue Dante recognized instantly. Eva’s eyes. His mother’s eyes. His breath caught. Opal shifted the elder twin in her arms, her daughter’s eyes shimmering turquoise, closer to teal. She caught Dante’s expression and asked softly, “Are you okay?”
Dante nodded, his voice rough with emotion. “More than okay. She has my mother’s eyes. It’s like she is still here, watching over us.”
Opal smiled through her tears. “She does. And the one I have… she has mine.”
Dante’s lips curved into a tender smile. “Strong like her mom, stubborn like her dad. Figures.”
Opal tilted her head. “Do you have a name in mind for the one you’re holding?”
Dante looked down at his daughter, his voice steady but reverent. “Evalynn. A piece of my mother’s legacy. Love, strength, unbreakable spirit. I want her to carry that forward.”
Opal nodded, smiling softly. “It suits her. And Selene suits our oldest.”
Dante repeated the name, savoring it. “Selene… the moon goddess. A beacon of light. Perfect for our strong girl.”
As his wounds finished healing, Selene latched onto Opal’s breast, while Evalynn whimpered, reaching toward Dante’s chest. Opal laughed softly. “Looks like Evalynn’s hungry too. How about you clean up while I feed them?”
Dante chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Sounds good, babe. I’ll be back in a minute.” He handed Evalynn gently to Opal, watching as both daughters nestled against her, their tiny hands touching.
Opal’s tears spilled again as she kissed their heads. “You girls and your father are the greatest gift I’ve ever received. I love you so much already… as much as I love him.”
When Dante returned, freshly cleaned, he paused in the doorway. Opal cradled their daughters, their hands entwined as they fed. His heart swelled, his grin crooked but full of warmth.
For the first time in years, Dante felt peace. Not the fleeting kind after battle — but true purpose. His reason for being.
Dante approached the bed, lowering himself carefully beside Opal. His arm slipped around her shoulders, steady and protective, as he leaned in to press a kiss to Selene’s downy head, then another to Evalynn’s. His voice dropped, rough with emotion but steady, “I love you all so much. You and your mother… you’re my everything. My heart. My home.”
Opal turned to him, her eyes shining, and they shared a tender kiss — a quiet celebration of survival and new life. When Dante pulled back, his blue-gray eyes locked on hers, shimmering with a depth of feeling that stole his breath. They had fought through so much together, endured battles and scars, but here, in this moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the family they had created. He kissed her again, softer this time, pouring gratitude and love into the touch. Opal sighed against him, melting into his embrace. Resting his forehead against hers, Dante whispered, voice low and reverent, “Thank you, Opal. For loving me. For being the incredible mother to our girls. For giving me a reason to keep fighting. I’m grateful every damn day to have you by my side.”
Opal laughed softly, exhaustion giving way to warmth. “I should be thanking you… for giving me a second chance to trust again, and for sticking with me no matter how stubborn or closed-off I’ve been before being...us.”
Dante’s grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, crooked but full of warmth. Her words hit him harder than any blade. He knew how much she’d endured, how hard it had been for her to open her heart.
His hands cupped her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. His gaze burned with a love both fierce and tender. “Opal, I’d move heaven and hell for you. Doesn’t matter how stubborn you get — that’s part of what drew me to you. You’re strong, resilient, and I’m honored you trust me with your heart.”
He kissed her again, lingering, before murmuring against her lips, “You’ve given me a second chance, too. A chance to be the man I should’ve been all along. To protect, to love, to fight for the people who matter. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together. And we’ll build a life worth living — full of love, laughter, and maybe a little chaos.”
