CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
When Darkness Reached for the Unborn
The evil ruler did not rage often.
But when he did, even the shadows trembled.
The moment the news reached him — that Linah carried life within her — the skies above the evil land darkened. Ancient stones cracked beneath his feet as he rose from his throne, eyes blazing with a fury born of fear.
"A child," he hissed. "Born of her blood and his power."
He knew the truth too well.
If that child was born, the balance would tilt forever. The unborn carried a legacy older than war — water spirits, forest guardians, demon royalty, and human blood bound together. Such a child would not only end him… it would erase his reign from memory.
"No blade can touch her now," the ruler growled. "So we strike where she is weakest."
The womb.
Far away, in the human world, Linah stood by the window of the mansion, her palm resting unconsciously on her stomach. The morning sun felt too bright, too sharp. Her heart felt heavy for reasons she could not name.
Then the voice came.
Soft. Urgent. Afraid.
Danger walks closer, my child. Protect the seed of tomorrow.
Linah gasped, gripping the window frame as a chill ran through her body. The voice faded, leaving her breathless and shaken.
"Mako…" she whispered.
But Mako was already gone.
His business trip abroad had been unavoidable. He had held her tightly that morning, pressing his forehead to hers longer than usual.
"I don't like leaving you," he had said quietly. "My heart feels restless."
Linah had smiled, brushing away his worry. "I'll be fine. Aunt Rose is here. The house is full."
Yet as his car disappeared down the long driveway, unease settled deep in her chest.
The evil ones waited.
They could not reach Linah directly. The house was protected. The spirits watched. But patience had always been their greatest weapon.
They found their opening in flesh and bone.
The butler.
A loyal man. Quiet. Invisible.
As he polished the silver in the early hours of the morning, his reflection in the metal flickered — just once — his eyes clouding for a heartbeat before clearing again.
The possession was gentle. Silent. Complete.
By the time Linah came downstairs, nothing seemed out of place.
"I want to go out today," she said softly. "Baby City Mall. I need… I don't know. Something small."
Aunt Rose smiled. "Of course, my child. Let the butler take you. I'll prepare lunch."
The butler nodded obediently, holding the door open as Linah stepped outside. The sun felt warm on her skin, but the voice whispered again.
Do not go.
Linah paused, her hand tightening on her handbag.
"Are you okay, madam?" the butler asked calmly.
She forced a smile. "Yes. Just dizzy."
She climbed into the car.
The road was busy, alive with sound and movement. Linah watched people through the window — mothers holding hands with children, couples laughing — and her lips curved into a small, hopeful smile.
Then the nausea hit.
Sudden. Violent.
Her stomach twisted painfully, her head spinning. "Please… slow down," she murmured.
The butler's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
His eyes blurred.
The world tilted.
The truck came out of nowhere.
Linah screamed.
Metal shrieked. Time shattered.
The last thing Linah felt was her body lurching forward, her hands instinctively covering her stomach as darkness swallowed her whole.
Miles away, Mako froze mid-step.
His chest burned as if something had clawed through it.
"Linah," he breathed.
His phone slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor as a wave of terror unlike anything he had ever known ripped through him. The bond between them screamed — not pain, not death — but danger.
Raw. Immediate. Unforgiving.
"No…" His voice broke.
Sirens wailed.
People shouted.
Somewhere between consciousness and oblivion, Linah felt cold rain on her face… or were those tears?
Her body wouldn't move.
Her breath came shallow.
And deep within her, where life had just begun, silence pressed in — fragile, terrifying, unknown.
Did Linah survive?
Did the unborn child endure the darkness meant to erase it?
The world held its breath.
And fate waited.
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT