Chapter 90 Ninety

Chapter 90 Ninety
  DANIKA
    "Dove, are you okay? You've been zoning out," Kaziel says. We're seated in the sitting room the next day, waiting for Kira's arrival. He'd insisted on this because he wanted to make sure that my cores were stable enough for the ritual. I told him I was fine. Mostly.
   The truth is, my thoughts won't stop circling back to what happened yesterday. It just felt so wrong.
   "I'm fine," I lie, then I let out a sigh. There's no point pretending with him. "I've just been thinking."
   He tilts his head, studying me. "About?"
   "Kaz," I whisper and he leans in closer, attentive.
   "Yes, sweetheart?"
   "I think I saw Eve yesterday," I tell him and he stiffens.
   "Where?" 
   "I heard a knock on the front door when you were asleep. So, I went to check the monitor out. She was standing right there on the front porch but when I blinked, she was gone," I explain and his eyes go wide.
   I wait for him to tell me that I was probably just exhausted or sleepwalking. Or even that my mind had been playing tricks on me. But he genuinely looks worried.
   "You can't stay out of my sight from now on, do you understand?" He utters softly, and blood rushes to my cheeks.
   "Even when I have to use the toilet?" I squeak, and he smirks. 
   "Why? You don't like the idea of personal space either, do you?" He asks and my face burns hotter. He's right. I'm literally straddling him, pressed skin to skin with him under his baggy shirt. I can literally hear the thudding of his heart right under my ear. I'd insisted on it earlier, claiming that our baby craved skin-to-skin.
   Kira arrives twenty minutes later. Kaziel opens the door, and she steps inside, her eyes immediately finding me. She winks at me, and I beam at her, rising to my feet.
   "Alright," she says, shrugging off her dark blue jean jacket. "Let's check those cores."
   My stomach knots with nerves.
   Kaziel doesn't move far from me as Kira sets up, pulling a small obsidian disc from her bag and placing it on the coffee table. The air shifts subtly, pressure building.
   "Sit," Kira tells me gently.
   I obey.
   She crouches in front of me, pressing the disc against my sternum first. It's cool against my skin. Her brows knit together almost immediately.
   "That's... odd," she murmurs.
   My pulse drums faster. "Odd how?"
   She doesn't answer. Instead, she presses two fingers to my wrist, then to my temple. Her eyes glaze slightly as she tunes in, magic humming in the room.
   Seconds stretch by and with it, my anxiety swells. 
   Kaziel stiffens beside me. "Kira."
   She exhales slowly and pulls back.
   "Dani," she says carefully, "have you felt any resistance lately?"
   I blink. "Resistance?"
   "Between your cores," she clarifies. "The clash. The push-and-pull."
   I shake my head. "No. I thought that was... good?"
   Her lips press into a thin line.
   "That's the problem."
   Oh no. 
   "What do you mean?" I whisper.
   She straightens, meeting my eyes. "Your cores aren't clashing because they aren't fully active. They're... dormant."
   The word makes my head spin. Because how the hell did that happen? Doesn't that mean I'm practically useless now?
   "That's not possible," Kaziel says. 
   "I know," Kira replies, her voice tight with tension. "But I'm not sensing any flow. It's like the connection is... stalled."
   My chest tightens painfully. "So the ritual—"
   "Requires an active, harmonized core," Kira finishes. "Without it..." She trails off, not finishing the sentence.
   Because she doesn't have to. Horror crawls up my spine, cold and suffocating.
   The eclipse is no longer just three days away. And my body isn't responding.
   "I—I need a minute," I croak, my voice shaking.
   Before either of them can stop me, I'm on my feet.
   "Dani—" Kaziel starts.
   "I just need a minute," I repeat, already moving.
   I make it to the bedroom on pure adrenaline. The door slams shut behind me, and I twist the lock with trembling fingers. The moment it clicks, my legs give out.
   I slide down the door, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps. My hands fly to my stomach.
   Dormant.
   The word loops in my head mercilessly.
   What if I'm the reason everything falls apart?
   My vision blurs, my thoughts spiraling faster and faster until I can't tell where one ends and the next begins.
   I curl in on myself, pressing my forehead to my knees, trying not to drown in the fear clogging my throat.
   Outside the door, I hear Kaziel's footsteps stop.
   "Dove," his voice comes softly through the wood. "Open the door."
   I squeeze my eyes shut, my tears streaming freely. I don't know how to tell him that I'm terrified I'm not enough.
   "I'm not angry," he adds. "I'm not disappointed. I'm just worried about you."
   My throat tightens painfully.
   "Please," he murmurs. "Let me in."
   I drag in a shaky breath and push myself up, my legs weak as I unlock the door. The second it opens, he's there, his blue eyes searching my face, worry etched deep into his features.
   Before I can say anything, my stomach churns.
   "Oh—" I gasp.
   I barely make it to the bathroom before nausea crashes over me. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet as my body betrays me completely.
   Kaziel is there instantly.
   He kneels behind me, one hand gathering my hair, the other steadying my shaking body. He doesn't speak. He just holds me while I retch, his presence solid and unyielding.
   When it finally eases, he presses a cool cloth to my face, wiping tears and sweat with careful hands.
   "You're okay," he murmurs softly.
   I sag back against his chest, utterly exhausted.
   "I'm scared," I whisper. "What if my body isn't enough? What if I can't do what I'm supposed to?"
   His arms tighten around me.
   "You are not a vessel meant to be used and discarded," he says firmly. "You are my mate. And you are carrying our child. That is not weakness."
   I let out a sob as I turn to him, clutching his shirt.
   "I don't want to lose the baby. I really don't want to be a failure."
   "You won't," he says without hesitation. 
   He rocks me gently on the cold bathroom floor until my breathing slowly steadies.
   "I've got you, dove," he whispers. "Always."
   I'm so scared. What if the hollow comes back because my sanctum core is dormant?
   ...
   Sleep doesn't come easy that night. And when the slumber hits, I'm suddenly standing at the edge of a cliff, the wind howling around me. Far below, there's nothing but endless darkness.
   "Beautiful view, isn't it?" Her voice slithers up my spine. I whirl around, startled.
   Eve stands a few steps away from me, her hair whipping around her face.
   My heart slams hard against my ribs. "This isn't real," I whisper.
   She hums. "Does it feel unreal?"
   I swallow hard. It doesn't.
   She moves closer, one step at a time. "It's time for you to get lost, Danika."
   My chest tightens. "Why?" My voice cracks despite my effort to sound strong. "Why are you doing this?"
   Eve exhales sharply, rolling her eyes.
   "I didn't plan for this," she admits. "I tried not to feel it. I tried to hate him. I wanted to."
   She laughs softly, a bitter expression on her face. "But then he looks at you with that devotion. That stupid calm voice. Those hands." Her gaze darkens. "Have you noticed his hands?"
   Rage burns hot in my chest. "Don't talk about him."
   "But I can't stop," she says, striding even closer. "The way his eyes soften when he looks at you. The way his smile is rare around others but devastating when it appears around you. His strength. His loyalty." She sighs, almost wistful. "He's unfairly attractive."
   What nonsense is she spewing?
   My hands curl into fists. "You're sick."
   She shrugs. "Maybe. I've been so horny in my lonely cell, touching myself at the thought of him. Even his rage is sexy as fuck."
   She looks demented. I'm convinced a screw has gone loose in her brain.
   I raise my hand and swing. But the slap never lands.
   Eve catches my wrist effortlessly, her grip iron-tight. She bursts into laughter.
   "Oh, sweetheart," she mocks. "You really thought you could hurt me?"
   I grit my teeth.
   "You don't belong beside him," she whispers. "You're in the way."
   Before I can react, she shoves me hard in the chest. I stumble back, and the ground disappears.
   I'm falling, a scream tearing out of me as I claw at empty air—
   I jolt awake with a gasp, my heart hammering so hard, it feels like it's trying to escape from my chest.
   "No," I whisper. "No, no, no—"
   Strong arms wrap around me instantly.
   "Dove," Kaziel murmurs urgently, pulling me into his chest. "You're here. You're safe. It was a dream."
   I cling to him, shaking hard, my face pressed into his neck. Even now, her words still echo in my head.
   'It's time for you to get lost.'
   I'm still shaking in Kaziel's arms when something inside me pulls hard. A gasp slips from my lips.
   "Dove?" I hear my mate say.
   "Kaz—" I try to say his name.
   My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
   The pressure increases, and I feel myself separating, like I'm being poured out of my own skin. My limbs go numb. There's a flash of blinding white, and then my vision returns suddenly. 
   I'm sitting in a lotus position, my hands resting on my lap. That's the first thing I register. Slowly, I lift my gaze and find a mirror in front of me.
   For half a second, relief floods me until I actually see what's reflected. It’s not me. Dread floods my insides when Eve’s face stares back at me with wide eyes. I lift a hand to my face, and the reflection does the same. 
   “Oh my god,” I breathe, mortified.