Chapter 502: Somewhere in-between (Epilogue)

FIA (A few months later)

The morning light filtered through the lounge windows while I arranged flowers from the garden. My stomach had swollen to the point where bending forward required strategy. I’d given up on grace weeks ago. Now I just focused on not toppling over.

The vase sat on the low table. I reached for a stem of larkspur, its purple petals still damp with dew. Then my fingers found something else. A flower I didn’t recognize. Blue petals that seemed to glow even in indirect light.

Moonbell. The name surfaced from somewhere deep in my memory. Rare. Supposed to bloom only under specific conditions.

I lifted it to my nose.

The scent hit me like a fist to the gut. Sweet and sharp and utterly wrong. My stomach clenched. The contraction started low and spread upward, wrapping around my middle with crushing force.

The moonbell dropped from my fingers.

Pain exploded through my core. My hands shot out to brace against the table. Blue energy erupted from my palms without permission. It slammed into the flowers in the vase. The larkspur shriveled. Petals turned brown and fell like dead leaves. The roses beside them swelled. Their stems thickened. Thorns grew into spikes that punctured through the glass.

I tried to pull the power back. It wouldn’t listen.

Another contraction hit. This one was even worse. The energy burst outward in a wave. A chair lifted off the ground. It hung suspended for one impossible moment before flying across the room and smashing into the wall. Wood splintered. The impact left a crater in the plaster.

"Cian!"

My voice came out strangled. The pain had teeth now. It chewed through my control and left nothing but raw instinct behind.

The table started to shake. Pictures rattled on the walls. One fell. The glass shattered across the floor in a spray that caught the light.

Another contraction came and it allowed with it another surge of power. The remaining chairs lifted. They spun in lazy circles like planets orbiting a dying star. Then they shot outward. One crashed through a window. Another embedded itself in the ceiling. The third slammed into the doorframe hard enough to crack the wood straight through.

The walls groaned. Fissures spread across the plaster like lightning frozen in place.

"Cian!" I screamed it this time. The sound tore out of my throat raw and desperate.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway. The door burst open. Cian appeared in the doorway, his eyes going wide as he took in the destruction. A spinning picture frame flew at his head. He ducked. It sailed past and shattered against the far wall.

"Fia." He moved toward me. A vase launched itself at his chest. He batted it aside without breaking stride. "I’ve got you."

"The baby." The words came out between gasps. "It’s coming. Now."

He reached me just as another contraction hit. My knees buckled. He caught me before I hit the ground. His arm came around my waist, supporting most of my weight.

The table flipped. It sailed through the air and crashed into the wall behind us. Wood exploded into splinters.

"We need to get you to the infirmary." His voice stayed level despite the chaos erupting around us. "Can you walk?"

I nodded. Each step sent fresh waves of agony through my middle. The power kept surging. Blue energy crackled across my skin. Sio did the gifts of small miracles. Every surface we passed started to shake. A bookshelf toppled. Books flew like birds startled from a tree.

We made it to the hallway where even more picture frames lined the walls. They began to rattle. Then they shot off their hooks. Glass shattered. Wood splintered. Cian curved his body around mine, shielding me from the debris while we stumbled forward.

The infirmary doors appeared ahead. They flew open before we reached them. Cian guided me through. Doctor Maren stood ready, her face already set in the expression of controlled urgency I’d seen her wear during emergencies.

"Get her on the bed." She gestured to the nearest one. "Now."

Cian helped me onto the mattress. The moment my back hit the sheets, another contraction tore through me. I screamed. The sound echoed off the walls. Every instrument on the nearby tray lifted into the air.

Scalpels spun in tight circles. Forceps danced like marionettes controlled by invisible strings. A metal basin shot across the room and slammed into the wall with a sound like a gong.

"Alpha Cian, you need to leave." Maren’s voice cut through the chaos. "Her powers are too unstable. You’ll get hurt."

"I’m not leaving her. And what about you?"

"That’s not a request." Maren pointed to the door. "Out. Now. I am the doctor here. I will be fine."

Another surge of power came. The instruments hanging in midair shot outward. A scalpel buried itself in the wall three inches from Maren’s head. She didn’t flinch. She just grabbed Cian’s arm and physically pushed him toward the exit.

"I’ll call you when it’s safe."

The door slammed shut behind him.

I tried to breathe through the next contraction. It felt like someone had wrapped steel bands around my middle and was tightening them with a wrench. The bed started to groan. Metal joints creaked. The whole frame shifted left, then right, then lifted several inches off the ground before crashing back down.

"I’m sorry." The words came out broken. "I can’t control it."

"Don’t apologize." Maren moved to the foot of the bed. Her hands worked quickly, checking my progress despite the instruments still flying around the room. "Just focus on breathing. In through your nose. Out through your mouth."

I tried. The next breath came shallow and ragged. Another contraction hit before I’d recovered from the last one. The pain stacked. It built on itself until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.

A tray of syringes lifted off the counter. They hung suspended for a moment before shooting toward the wall like arrows. Glass shattered. Liquid medicine spilled across the floor in puddles that caught the light.

"You’re doing great." Maren’s voice stayed steady. "The baby’s crowning. I need you to push on the next contraction."

The pressure came again. This one was different. It came from the lower point and it felt more urgent. My body knew what to do even if my mind couldn’t process it. I bore down. The effort sent fresh waves of power radiating outward. The overhead lights exploded and glass rained down. Maren threw an arm over her head to shield herself.

"That’s it. Keep pushing."

I pushed. The pain reached a crescendo that made the earlier contractions feel like warm-ups. Something sharp flew past my head. A needle embedded itself in the pillow beside me.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

"Don’t be." Maren’s hands worked between my legs. "Almost there. One more big push."

I gathered what remained of my strength and bore down. The effort felt like it was tearing me apart from the inside. A metal stool shot across the room. It hit the wall and crumpled like paper. The bed started to shake again. This time it didn’t stop. The frame rattled against the floor in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat.

Then I felt it. The release. The sudden absence of pressure.

A baby’s cry filled the room.

"It’s a girl." Maren’s voice carried triumph. She lifted the baby, showing me the small red face and flailing limbs. "She’s perfect."

Relief flooded through me. I tried to relax. Then Maren’s expression changed. Her eyes widened slightly. She looked back down.

"There’s another one."

"I know..." The word came out barely above a whisper.

"There’s another head." Maren moved quickly, her hands working with years of practice behind her. "You’re having twins."

The door crashed open. Cian burst through, his face wild with concern. "I heard screaming. What’s—"

"Twins." I gasped it out. "She said twins."

Another contraction hit. This one somehow worse than all the others combined. My spine arched. I reached for Cian blindly. His hand found mine. Our fingers laced together. The moment we connected, something shifted.

The power that had been spiraling out of control suddenly found an anchor. It flowed from me into him and back again in a circuit that felt right.

Stable.

The instruments hanging in midair dropped harmlessly to the floor.

"Push." Maren’s voice cut through everything else. "I need you to push now."

I bore down. The pressure built to an impossible peak. Cian’s hand tightened around mine. His other arm came around my shoulders, supporting me as I strained against the pain.

My grip on his hand turned crushing. I could feel bones grinding together. He didn’t make a sound. He just held on and whispered encouragement into my ear that I couldn’t quite hear over the roaring in my head.

I screamed. The sound tore out of me primal and raw. My body lifted off the bed. Just a few inches. Then a foot. Then higher. I floated in midair, still pushing, still screaming, still holding onto Cian like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth.

"What’s going on?" Cian’s voice carried genuine alarm. His eyes tracked my ascent with an expression caught between wonder and fear.

The room started to groan. But it was not the bed this time. It was the whole room. The walls vibrated. The floor buckled. Cracks spread across the ceiling like spiderwebs. Dust rained down in fine streams.

"Fia." Maren’s voice came from somewhere below me. "One more push. That’s all I need."

I gathered everything I had left. Every scrap of strength. Every ounce of determination. I pushed. The effort felt like it was splitting me in two. The room’s groaning intensified. It sounded like the foundation itself was about to give way.

Then it happened. The second baby emerged in a rush. I felt the release. I felt my body give up the last passenger it had been carrying for months.

I dropped. The bed caught me with a bounce that sent fresh pain radiating through my middle. But it was different now. Manageable. The contractions had stopped. The power had settled back to wherever it lived when I wasn’t actively destroying things.

The room went silent except for two babies crying in harmony.

Maren worked quickly. I heard the snip of scissors. Felt the strange absence of weight I’d grown accustomed to over the past months. She moved between me and the counter, cleaning and checking and doing all the things doctors did with newborns.

When she finally brought them to me, they were wrapped in soft blankets. I could still see their pink faces and tiny fists though and eyes that couldn’t quite focus yet but tried anyway.

I took them both. One settled in each arm. The weight felt perfect. Right in a way nothing else ever had.

I looked at Cian. He stood beside the bed with an expression I’d never seen on his face before. Wonder mixed with terror mixed with something so tender it made my chest ache.

"What should we name them?"

He reached out and touched the baby in my right arm with one finger. The tiny hand wrapped around it immediately. "I like Aurora."

"Aurora?" I raised an eyebrow. "That’s terrible."

"What’s wrong with Aurora?"

"It sounds like a sneeze."

He laughed. The sound came out strangled with emotion. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"Eleanor."

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"It’s old."

"It’s classic."

"It’s ancient." He shook his head. "Our daughter deserves better than a name from three centuries ago."

We went back and forth. Names were suggested and rejected. Some lasted longer than others. None felt quite right until Cian went quiet. He looked at the baby in my left arm with an expression that made my throat tight.

"Muna." The name came out soft. "An ode to your mother."

Tears formed before I could stop them. They blurred my vision until Cian became a watercolor version of himself. I looked down at the baby in my left arm. She had my nose. Cian’s chin. And eyes that would probably turn amber once they lost their newborn blue.

"Muna." I tested the name. It fit. "What about him?"

Cian carefully lifted the baby from my right arm. His son. Our son. He cradled the small body with surprising gentleness for someone so large and dangerous.

"He looks very much like a Wyatt." He turned back to me. His eyes searched my face for confirmation. "What do you think?"

"I love it."

He bent down. The kiss was soft and careful. It tasted like salt from my tears and something sweeter I couldn’t name. When he pulled back, he kept his forehead pressed against mine.

Muna and Wyatt. Our children. The future we’d carved out of tragedy and pain and impossible odds.

I looked at them both. Really looked. These tiny mortals who depended on us for everything. Who would grow up hearing stories about their grandmother Muna and never knowing the woman herself. Who would learn about pack politics and power struggles and all the darkness that came with being born into this world.

But they would also know love. They would grow up with parents who chose each other despite everything trying to tear them apart. They would see what it looked like when two people decided to build something beautiful out of ruins.

I’d lost so much. Mother. Years of my childhood to cruelty and manipulation. The innocence that came from not knowing how truly awful people could be to each other. I’d endured frame jobs and false accusations and being treated like I didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as the people who’d made my life hell.

But every loss had led here. Every moment of pain had been a step on the path toward this exact instant. Cian beside me. Our children in our arms. A future that stretched out ahead of us bright and unknown and full of possibility.

The Chapter of my life that had been defined by survival was over. This one would be about living. About watching Muna and Wyatt grow. About building the kind of family I’d always wished I could have. About proving that love could be stronger than hate and that endings could become beginnings if you just held on long enough.

I pulled Muna closer and reached for Cian’s hand. He laced his fingers through mine. This was my family. Complete at last.

And every terrible thing that had happened before this moment suddenly felt worth it because they’d led me here. To them. To this perfect beginning of everything that mattered.