Nine months.
Alina had grown into her pregnancy like a storm gathering in silence—graceful yet unpredictable. The once-sharp glint in her eyes was softened by exhaustion and tenderness, while her body bore the sacred weight of life. But with it came mood swings so intense that even Cassian—feared by many, unshaken by war—found himself cautiously knocking before entering his own bedroom.
"Don't breathe near me," Alina snapped one morning, throwing a pillow at him when he tried to kiss her forehead.
Cassian, unbothered, caught it mid-air. "Understood. I'll stop breathing until the twins graduate university."
"Don't get sarcastic, Cassian."
"I would never, darling," he said with a grin, kneeling beside her swollen belly and whispering to it. "Your mama's about to turn into a dragon again."
"You think you're funny," she muttered, even as the corner of her mouth twitched.
But for every fiery word she threw, Cassian responded with infinite patience. He massaged her ankles, warmed her bath with rose petals, fed her fresh fruit with his own hands, and threatened to fire their entire staff when they forgot her special mint tea. His empire could burn, and he wouldn't care—as long as she and the babies were safe.
Then came the night.
It was late. Rain battered the windows of their Russian estate. Alina clutched her lower belly and let out a sound Cassian had never heard before.
He was at her side in seconds. "What is it? What's wrong?"
She gritted her teeth. "It's happening. They're coming."
Cassian went still. Then chaos.
The private medical team was called. The room transformed into a sterile haven, warm lights and soft murmurs surrounding them. Cassian held her hand the entire time. She tried to push him away. He didn't let go.
Hours passed. Sweat coated her brow. Tears burned her eyes.
"Cassian, I hate you," she cried during a particularly strong contraction.
He brushed her damp hair from her face, smiling through the panic storming in his chest. "I know. You can hate me all you want. Just breathe. You're almost there, Alina. You're so strong."
"I swear, if you ever touch me again—"
"I'll gladly die by your hand," he murmured, pressing her knuckles to his lips. "But bring them into this world first."
She screamed.
And then—cries. Tiny, piercing cries that shattered every wall Cassian had built around his heart.
The doctor announced, "Two boys. Healthy. Strong."
Cassian laughed. Actually laughed—a breathless, disbelieving sound. And then he cried.
He didn't care that the nurses were watching. He buried his face in Alina's shoulder, tears falling freely as he kissed her over and over.
"You did it. You did it, my flame. You brought them home."
Alina, exhausted, could barely keep her eyes open. But when they placed one of the babies on her chest, her arms curled protectively, and a faint smile broke through.
"Look what we made," she whispered.
The second boy was placed in Cassian's arms. His hands trembled. The tiny, blinking creature looked up at him with the most terrifying innocence.
"You're going to ruin me," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Both of you."
Later, when Alina was settled and resting, Cassian sat beside the bed with both boys in his arms—one curled on each side. Alina peeked from the pillow, her voice rough. "They need names."
"I know," he whispered. "I've been thinking."
She smirked weakly. "Dangerous."
"I want to name the first one Leo."
"Leo?"
"Leonidas. Brave like a lion. He didn't stop crying until I touched him."
She nodded. "It suits him."
"And the second... maybe something gentler. For the quiet one. He held my finger. Wouldn't let go."
"Luca," she said softly. "It means light."
"Luca," Cassian repeated, his eyes glassy. "Perfect."
They sat in silence, wrapped in newness, the boys making soft breathing sounds. And then Alina, ever the fire, said, "You're going to be an unbearable father, aren't you?"
Cassian glanced down at the babies. "Completely insufferable."
"You'll spoil them."
"They'll never hear the word 'no'."
"I'll have to balance your madness."
He looked at her, all the teasing gone. "They'll have the strongest, fiercest mother in the world."
Alina blinked, emotion catching her off guard.
Cassian leaned over, kissed her forehead, then gently lowered himself to the foot of the bed. He laid the twins in their cradle and returned just to press his head against her bump, even though it no longer held them.
"I used to talk to you both every night," he whispered to the bump. "Now you're here, and I still can't believe it."
Alina smiled softly, her fingers brushing through his dark hair as he remained there, grounded by her.
Their world had changed forever.
And for the first time in years, Cassian didn't feel haunted by war or revenge.
Only love.
Only them.