Chapter 168 Chapter 168
She sat up studying me carefully. "She’s safe," she added gently.
I turned toward her slowly. "I know," I said.
But knowing never erased instinct, because love created fear unlike anything violence ever inspired; enemies never scared me like loss did.
I joined her in bed, pulling her close while silence settled comfortably between us. Down the hall our daughter slept peacefully, unaware of contingency plans already shaping her future, unaware of how fiercely she was guarded simply for existing.
And as sleep finally approached, one truth remained absolute inside my mind: anyone who ever threatened Elowen Rhyland would learn very quickly that becoming a father hadn’t softened me; it had simply given me something worth destroying the world to protect.
ALINA
I had raised my son knowing he would grow into something powerful. From the moment Zaiel learned to walk, there had been intensity inside him that never quite matched other children, quiet observation instead of reckless play, and protectiveness that appeared far too early for someone so small, and even as a boy, he watched the world like he already understood how cruel it could become.
I worried about him then, not because he lacked love but because he felt everything too deeply and hid it too well. Then Tessa entered his life, and I watched something impossible happen: my son softened without losing strength.
And now every time Anthony and I drove toward their home for our weekly visit, I felt that same quiet relief settle inside my chest because happiness finally lived where darkness once ruled.
The gates opened before our car fully stopped, security already recognizing us, and I smiled faintly, knowing Zaiel still ran protection around his family like a fortress even a year after Elowen’s birth. Some habits never faded, especially when love was involved.
I stepped out first, carrying bags filled with things completely unnecessary because Tessa always insisted they had everything already, yet bringing food and small gifts felt instinctive, something mothers never truly stopped doing no matter how grown their children became.
Anthony chuckled beside me.
"You spoil them," he said.
"I waited years to spoil grandchildren," I replied easily.
The front door opened before we reached it, and Tessa appeared holding Elowen against her hip, sunlight catching soft curls that bounced every time the baby moved, and my heart melted instantly the same way it always did.
"There’s my girl," I said, reaching forward.
She squealed happily, arms stretching toward me without hesitation, and that simple trust filled me with warmth every single visit. She smelled like soap and milk and warmth when I lifted her carefully, chubby hands immediately grabbing my necklace while she laughed loudly at nothing in particular.
Beautiful child. Fair skin glowing, round cheeks impossible not to kiss, eyes sharp and curious, already studying everything around her with startling awareness
Zaiel’s eyes, Tessa’s softness, perfect balance
"You’ve grown again," I murmured, brushing curls from her forehead.
Tessa laughed, tired but happy. "She eats constantly," she said.
"Good," I replied.
Healthy babies were loud babies; behind us, Zaiel appeared from the hallway, already watching closely, arms folded, though his posture relaxed slightly once he confirmed El was secure in my hold. Even now he monitored instinctively.
Anthony clapped his shoulder lightly. "Are you still checking breathing every hour?" he teased, and Zaiel didn’t deny it.
"She moves in her sleep," he answered seriously.
Tessa rolled her eyes affectionately. "He wakes up before the monitor does," she added. I smiled watching them together because this version of my son still amazed me. The feared CEO, the ruthless protector, reduced entirely by a giggling child tugging at his sleeve.
El reached toward him immediately, and Zaiel took her back without hesitation, like the separation lasted too long despite only seconds passing. He pressed a kiss against her temple automatically before adjusting her against his chest. That tenderness never stopped surprising people who only knew the public version of him.
But I knew, I always knew love would change him once he allowed it. We moved into the living room, settling comfortably while conversation flowed easily, Arthur joining us from the garden moments later, hands still dusted with soil.
He adored that garden and adored his granddaughter even more.
"There she is," he said proudly. El clapped excitedly, recognizing him instantly, and leaned forward, demanding attention. Arthur laughed, lifting her carefully while describing flowers he planned to show her later as if she understood every word.
Maybe she did; children understood affection long before language.
I watched Tessa sink into the sofa beside me, exhaustion lingering beneath happiness. Motherhood was still new enough to demand constant energy, yet she carried it beautifully.
"You look rested," I told her gently.
She smiled. "She slept through the night twice this week," she said.
Progress. I squeezed her hand quietly. "You’re doing wonderfully," I assured.
Her eyes softened slightly because reassurance still mattered after everything she endured before reaching this peace. Across the room Zaiel followed El’s movements constantly even while speaking with Anthony about work updates, his gaze shifting every few seconds automatically.
Fatherhood suited him. It grounded the storm inside him rather than feeding it. El waddled unsteadily between furniture, determined to explore, while three adults hovered subtly, pretending not to watch too closely. When she stumbled, Zaiel moved instantly, catching her before she reached the floor.
Everyone laughed. Including him That sound warmed me most: my son laughing freely without restraint. I leaned back, observing quietly while family filled the space with easy affection, sunlight pouring through windows, and conversation overlapping naturally. Peace, real peace, something our family fought hard to earn
Tessa eventually rested her head against Zaiel’s shoulder while El played at their feet surrounded by toys and attention, and the sight struck me deeply.
They were happy; Anthony noticed my expression and smiled knowingly. "You were worried he’d never have this," he said quietly.
"I feared it," I admitted. Because darkness followed Zaiel for so long. Yet here he sat surrounded by love, wife safe beside him, daughter laughing freely under his watchful care. Everything he once believed impossible now existed within reach.
El toddled toward me again, arms raised, demanding to be picked up, and I lifted her easily, kissing her cheek while she giggled loudly. "My sweet girl," I whispered.
Grandmotherhood felt softer than motherhood, with less fear and more appreciation, watching generations continue instead of guiding alone. Later, as evening approached and dinner filled the house with warmth, I watched Tessa move comfortably through her home while Zaiel followed, carrying El despite her ability to walk perfectly fine.
Anthony laughed. "You’ll carry her until she’s twenty," he joked.
Zaiel shrugged, completely serious. "If necessary," he replied.
Everyone laughed again, and I realized something quietly beautiful. Love hadn’t weakened my son; it expanded him and made space for gentleness alongside strength.
Before leaving I paused near the nursery doorway, watching Zaiel place El carefully into her crib while Tessa adjusted blankets beside him. They moved together naturally, practiced partners in parenting and devotion. He kissed his daughter goodnight, then his wife.