Chapter 100 Shut Up!!
Maureen Laskovic
Morning came slowly.
A thin gray light filtered through the tall windows of the chamber, soft and hesitant, like the sun itself wasn’t sure it was welcome there.
I hadn’t slept. Not even for a minute.
The three small bundles lay in the wide cradle beside the bed, wrapped in soft cloth the servants had hurriedly prepared when the incubator was finally opened the night before.
Three.
Three babies.
Three lives that had once been inside me.
Three children I had carried without ever knowing.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at them.
They were impossibly small.
Tiny fists curled near their cheeks.
Tiny noses.
Tiny mouths that moved now and then in sleepy little motions.
And their hair…
White. Soft as silk. Exactly like mine.
My chest tightened painfully.
“My babies,” I whispered.
One of them stirred. Then another. And suddenly—
WAAAAAA.
The cry tore through the room like a blade.
Then the second joined. Then the third.
Within seconds the chamber was filled with the piercing wail of three newborns crying at once.
My heart jumped into my throat.
“Oh— wait— wait—” I rushed to the cradle, panic rising in my chest.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…”
My hands hovered over them helplessly. Which one first? Gods. They were all crying. All three.
The smallest one kicked their legs weakly, face scrunching red as their cries grew louder.
“I’m here,” I whispered quickly. “I’m here.”
I picked up the closest one, cradling the tiny body carefully against my chest. The baby’s crying softened for half a second. Then it started again. Louder. More desperate.
My stomach twisted.
“Okay… okay…” I picked up the second. Now I had two squirming, wailing babies in my arms. The third screamed even louder from the cradle.
Tears burned behind my eyes.
“Gods… what do you want…?” My voice shook.
I lifted the third one too, awkwardly balancing them all in my arms as best as I could.
Three tiny bodies. Three crying mouths. Three desperate sounds filling the room.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured desperately. “I’ve got you…”
But the crying didn’t stop.
Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then another. They cried. And cried. And cried. I walked the room endlessly, rocking them gently, whispering softly, humming whatever broken lullabies I could remember. Nothing worked. They cried when I laid them down. They cried when I held them. They cried when I walked. They cried when I sat.
And every time a servant knocked softly on the door, asking if I needed help—
“No!” My voice snapped like a whip every time. “I don’t need anyone.”
They were my children. Mine. I wasn’t going to let anyone else take them from me. Not again.
By afternoon my arms burned from holding them. By evening my legs trembled from pacing. Still they cried.
Their tiny faces were flushed red. Their bodies warm. Too warm.
My heart skipped.
I pressed my lips against one baby’s forehead. Hot. I checked the second. Hot. The third—Hot.
Panic flooded my veins.
“No… no…” My hands began to shake. “Why are you hot?”
The crying only grew louder.
Night fell. The chamber darkened except for the low glow of the lamps. And still they cried. My head throbbed. My chest ached. My nerves felt shredded.
“Please,” I whispered hoarsely. “Please stop crying…”
Tears slid down my cheeks as I held them close. But the crying didn’t stop. It only grew weaker. More strained. More exhausted. And somehow that was worse.
Fear crawled up my spine. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
I pressed my hand to the door. For a long moment I hesitated. My pride screamed at me not to open it. Not to call for him. Not after everything.
But another weak cry escaped one of the babies. My resolve shattered.
I flung the door open.
“Help!”
Footsteps thundered in the corridor. Several guards turned instantly.
“Get the Royal Doctor!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “Now!”
They ran.
The moment the words left my mouth, another set of footsteps came rushing down the hall.
Fast. Urgent. Heavy.
My stomach dropped.
Vuk.
He burst into the room a second later. His hair was disheveled like he had run the entire way. His eyes went straight to the babies in my arms. And something strange happened.
The moment he stepped into the room—
The crying faltered. Three tiny heads shifted slightly. Almost like they had sensed something. Then the first baby went quiet. Then the second. Then the third.
The room fell into stunned silence. My heart skipped. I stared at them. They had stopped crying. Completely.
Vuk slowed to a halt a few steps away. His expression shifted from panic to stunned disbelief.
“They… stopped.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t say anything. The babies stirred again, small restless movements. Then the first one whimpered. Vuk stepped closer. Instinctively.
The moment he did—the baby calmed. Then another tiny sound escaped the second child. Vuk reached out slowly.
“May I…?” His words were soft. Careful.
I hesitated. Anger flared in my chest again. But the babies were still too warm. Too quiet now. Reluctantly, I handed him one. Then another. Then the third. And the moment they settled against his chest—they went completely calm. All three. No crying. No whimpering. Just quiet little breaths.
I stared at them. Then at him. My chest tightened painfully.
“They like you better,” I said quietly.
Vuk’s face twisted. “Maureen—”
Before he could continue, the door burst open again. The Royal Doctor hurried inside, his robes rustling.
“What is the emergency—” He stopped when he saw the babies. “Oh.”
He stepped closer quickly. “Let me see them.”
Vuk gently passed the first baby to him. The doctor examined the tiny body carefully. Then the second. Then the third. His brows slowly pulled together.
“Interesting…”
My patience snapped. “What’s wrong with them?” I demanded.
“They have a fever.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
“Then fix it!”
The doctor frowned slightly as he listened to Vuk explain how the babies had survived on his demonic energy.
“I see,” the doctor murmured slowly. “That changes things.”
My patience snapped again. “What does that mean?” I demanded.
Vuk’s brow furrowed. “Meaning?”
“Meaning they will respond to you first,” the doctor said calmly. “Your aura is what their bodies are accustomed to. Your presence regulates them.”
My stomach twisted.
“So what about the milk?” I snapped. “They’re starving, aren’t they?”
The doctor nodded respectfully. “Yes, my lady. They do need your milk.”
Relief barely had time to form before he continued. “But they may not accept direct breastfeeding yet.”
My chest tightened. “What?”
“The transition from demonic energy to maternal nourishment must be gradual,” the doctor explained carefully. “Their systems are fragile. Sudden exposure to unfamiliar energy could distress them further.”
My hands curled into fists. “So what are you suggesting?”
The doctor turned to Vuk. “Your Majesty will be the one tending to them for now.”
Silence filled the room. My heart dropped. Vuk looked just as surprised.
“What about the milk?” I asked again, my voice sharp.
“My lady…” the doctor said gently. “You will extract the milk.”
He gestured toward Vuk. “And the Alpha will feed them.”
The words hit me like a blow.
“You may remain near them while this happens,” the doctor continued carefully. “Over time, the children will begin to recognize your energy. Once they are accustomed to it, they will accept you directly.”
Something snapped inside me. A laugh burst out of my throat. Sharp. Broken.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The doctor blinked. “It is the only solution.”
I turned slowly toward Vuk. My chest rose and fell violently.
“This,” I said quietly, “is your fault.”
“Maureen—”
“Your fault!” I shouted. The words echoed through the chamber. My hand grabbed the nearest object—a glass vial—and hurled it across the room. It shattered violently against the wall.
“You took them out of me!” Another object flew. A metal tray clattered loudly across the floor.
“You lied to me!” Something heavy smashed into the desk.
“You let my body keep producing milk while my children were locked in a sphere somewhere!”
Vuk stood frozen, the babies still resting quietly in his arms.
“Maureen, please—”
“No!” My hands shook with fury. “You did this!” I pointed at the babies. “They don’t even calm down when I hold them!”
My voice broke. “They cry when I touch them!” Another object shattered against the wall.
“And now you’re telling me the only way to feed them is to—” My voice cracked.
“To what? Sit here like a damn cow, extract milk and then hand it over to you and let you feed them!! They don’t recognize me!!! Do you know what that means!!!”
“No one said that,” Vuk said softly.
“I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW I WAS A MOTHER!”
The room fell silent. My chest heaved.
Then the doctor cleared his throat gently, stepping forward.
“My lady… if I may explain—”
“Shut up!!! Shut up!! Leave!! Leave!!! And leave my babies with me!! I don’t want anyone near them!! Not a single person!! Not you!! Not Vuk!! Leave my babies with me!!!”