Ashar laid her on the bed as the others stood around them. Mae groaned again, eyes fluttering. "Did I, do that?" Ashar knelt beside her. "You did." She looked up at all of them now, her family, her warriors, and whispered, "I didn't mean to."
"You don't have to mean it," Lucien said quietly. "You are it." The room fell into silence again. Not of fear, but realization. This wasn't a guessing game anymore. Not just visions. Not just possibility. The war was already watching. And it had finally seen Mae.
The room remained quiet after the void's retreat. No one spoke until Mae was resting again in one of the castle's deeper chambers, surrounded by comfort, warmth, and the constant presence of Ashar and Riven on either side.
.
Sethis stood nearby, his brows furrowed. He had brought the scanner, one of the last of its kind, and now hovered it gently over Mae's stomach. It pulsed a soft light over the small curve of her belly. The scan completed. And then, it froze. "What does it say?" Mae whispered, heart tight in her chest. Sethis turned the tablet slowly to show her. There were no heartbeats. No tiny fingers or toes. No fetal shapes. Only light.
Two distinct energy forms swirled within her womb, brilliant, radiant, and impossibly complex. They pulsed not in unison, but in harmony. Alive, aware, developing, but not in the way any being ever had before.
"Are they okay?" Riven asked, suddenly more tense than Mae had ever seen him. Sethis blinked. "They're not just okay. They're far beyond okay."
"Explain," Ashar said softly, staring at the light like it might slip through his fingers if he blinked. "They're nearly fully formed," Sethis said, voice laced with awe. "But not in the way we understand. They're forming as energy, raw, living energy, waiting. No physical shell yet. No organs. Just, essence. Spirit. Consciousness." Mae's breath caught. "But how?" she whispered. "That's not possible." Sethis looked at her, eyes shining with something between reverence and scientific obsession.
"It is, for you," he said. "You're the creator. The one who reshaped a dead world. You rebuilt an entire planet from grief, from fear, from a choice not to destroy. Your children are tied to that same force. To your instincts. Your emotions." Lucien stepped in, rubbing his jaw. "You're saying, her fear made them this way?" Sethis nodded slowly. "Fear. Love. Need. All of it. She doesn't even realize she's been shielding them since conception. They've grown in her protection, not just physically, but divinely. If anything ever happened to her."
He paused, letting the words hang. "They would protect themselves," Ashar finished, a chill running through his voice. "And possibly," Riven added, hand resting on Mae's, "protect her, too." Mae stared at the scan again, heart thudding, overwhelmed and silent. Two tiny lights. One a deep red-gold. The other a pulsing silver-blue. Alive. Waiting. Watching. She placed a hand over her belly. My babies. Her eyes shimmered with tears. Not out of fear this time, but awe. And for the first time since discovering the truth about herself.
She didn't feel alone. After Sethis shared his findings, the others left the chamber quietly, giving Mae the space she needed. But Ashar and Riven remained. No words had passed between them since the scan. There was too much to say, and not enough clarity to form it. Mae sat up slowly, still pale but stronger now. The glow of her children, her energy-born twins, still buzzed faintly beneath her skin. She looked at Ashar, then Riven. Her mates. Her future.
"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted, voice trembling but real. "I didn't even know I wanted this. Now they're here. And I feel like I'll break if I lose either of you."
"You won't," Riven said, sitting beside her and brushing a piece of hair from her cheek. "We won't let that happen." Ashar took a seat across from her, his arms resting on his knees. He looked at her the way only he could, quiet intensity hiding oceans of feeling. "They're alive because of you, Mae. They're here because you chose to feel instead of destroy."
"You both helped me choose," she said softly. There was silence then. Not heavy. Not uncomfortable. Just quiet enough to let the emotion breathe between them. Riven took her hand. Ashar reached across and covered them both. "We need time," Mae said. "Just us. Not the war. Not the council. Just us." Ashar nodded. "We'll take it." They left the chamber behind and stepped into one of the far rooms in the castle's east wing, an ancient glass atrium, vines curling through broken windows now slowly restoring, thanks to Mae's power. The stars outside glittered impossibly bright, their light dancing across the mosaic floor. Riven collapsed back on a wide cushioned bench, pulling Mae gently between him and Ashar.
She sighed, resting her head on Riven's shoulder and curling her legs across Ashar's lap. He didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her thighs, grounding her there. "This feels, unreal," she whispered. "It is," Ashar said, voice low. "But you are real."
"And so are they," Riven added, pressing his forehead gently to hers. "I'm scared," she admitted. "We are too," Ashar said honestly. They sat there for a long time. No tension. No rivalry. No jealousy. Just connection. Just them. Eventually, Mae drifted off to sleep curled between them, her breathing steady, the faintest glow under her skin still present, warm, strong, and full of hope.
Ashar looked at Riven, and Riven looked back. "She chose both of us," Riven said quietly. Ashar nodded. "Then we protect her together." And in that soft, starlit moment, a pact was silently formed. Not just to protect Mae. But to stand beside her. To raise what came next. Together