Chapter 135

Allissa

I didn’t want to do this without Darren, but I didn’t have a choice. I looked around the room at the mess left over from the fight. The windows were gone, glass scattered across the stone floor like confetti. One of the tapestries had caught fire and was now a smoldering heap in the corner, probably from where Fury’s lightning had ricocheted during the last round of magical chaos. Honestly, it was perfect for the way things have been going lately. I had to laugh about it.

Eira had a damp cloth and was pressing it to my forehead. A doctor and a healer were in the room with me, and the time to deliver was now.

“It’s almost time to push. Ready to meet your child?”

I nodded. I was, but I wished Darren was here. Was he safe? Was he in trouble? There was literally nothing I could do. I was completely vulnerable.

And then, like a shockwave through my bones, I felt Darren’s mindlink smash through the agony.

Ally, I’m coming. I’m racing to the room now.

I sobbed out a laugh, which turned into a wheeze. You better get your ass in here or I’ll have this baby without you.

I whispered to my belly, “Wait for Daddy, kiddo. Just a minute more.” My stomach tightened, and for a second, I could’ve sworn the baby rolled its eyes. Already a smartass. Figures.

The door exploded open, the ancient wood slamming into the wall with enough force to knock a chunk of plaster loose from the ceiling. Darren barreled through, his hair a mess and eyes wide enough to swallow the world.

“Majesty, you—” the doctor started, then gave up and barked at the healer to bring clean robes. The healer scuttled out, returning seconds later with a bundle of starched linen, which Darren snatched, sprinting to the bathroom. I heard the water running, and a minute later, he rushed to me.

He crossed the room in three strides, landing at my side with a force that rattled the bedframe. “I’m here,” he panted, grabbing my hand in both of his. “I’m here, Ally. I’m not leaving.”

I managed a grin. “About time. Thought you’d let me do the hard part alone.”

He kissed my forehead, breath trembling. “You’re doing amazing.” I noticed his eyes looking over the carnage in the room. “What the hell happened?”

“We threw a party.” Eira laughed and winked at me. “I’m going to Squall. He’s panicking because he couldn’t link me. Guess Angelica had blocked the room.” As she left, Darren looked at me in shock.

“Angelica was here?!”

“Later.” I managed to breathe as a powerful contraction took my body.

“Push, your majesty.” The doctor’s voice was calm, the relaxed experience evident in his tone of voice. The pain was beyond anything I’d ever known, but it was nothing compared to the need to see my baby, to hold it, to make sure it was safe after everything we’d survived. I pushed. And screamed. And pushed again.

“Last one,” the doctor said, voice urgent. “With this contraction. Now!”

I sucked in a lungful of air and bore down, every muscle in my body clenching in rebellion. The world went white, then black, then exploded in a burst of blinding, golden light. Power erupted in the room, dissipating shortly afterwards.

And then—silence.

For a second, I thought I’d died. The pain was gone, replaced by a dizzying, weightless nothing. I blinked, and the world came back in shards. Darren’s face, tear-streaked and beautiful, and the doctor cradling a tiny, writhing bundle murmuring soft cries.

The doctor wrapped the baby in a cloth, wiped the blood from its face, and handed it to me.

“Congratulations, your new princess is in perfect health.”

Darren’s face crumpled as he looked at her, his whole body shaking. “She’s … gods, she’s perfect,” he whispered, brushing a finger over her tiny fist.

I looked up at him, still gasping. “You want to hold her?”

He nodded, too choked up to speak. I placed the baby in his arms, and for the first time since all this began, I saw Darren cry big, streaming tears. He held her so gently, it was like he was afraid she’d break, but there was nothing fragile about the way she looked up at him, her blue-gold eyes already sizing him up.

“We will leave you three to get acquainted,” the doctor murmured quietly before they slipped out of the room.

When he was gone, Darren leaned in, forehead pressed to mine, and whispered, “The curse … it’s gone. It feels so light in my chest. The burden … it's completely gone. What are we going to call you, little one?” He looked at me for a suggestion.

I looked at the baby, her eyes already latching onto mine with a predatory focus. “Lyra,” I said, the name coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Darren nodded, then kissed her head, and I knew—really knew—that we were going to be okay. That the world might be chaos, but right here, in this moment, we were perfect.

I closed my eyes, the exhaustion finally catching up. As I drifted off, I felt Lyra’s tiny hand close around my finger, strong and sure.

We’d made it.

And we’d never let go.

The weeks after Lyra’s birth passed in a slow, syrupy daze—one part exhaustion, two parts disbelief that the world had finally stopped trying to murder us. The first few days, I woke every hour expecting disaster: another demon army, a vengeful god, maybe the castle roof just falling in on our heads for good measure. Instead, there was just Lyra. She ate, she slept (sort of), and she filled the royal suite with the kind of howling that made grown men contemplate their life choices.

I explained everything that had happened to Darren, and how we’d lost Fury. He was having a statue erected in her honor. We would never forget her sacrifice for our Lyra.

Darren was a mess. Not in the falling-apart, end-of-the-world way, but in the way new fathers always were. He hovered over Lyra like she was made of glass, which was hilarious because she had already tried to bite him three times and had successfully headbutted him once. He was obsessed. It was the most adorable thing in the world and made me love him even more.

The castle was quiet now, except for the sounds of life. The brainwashed were slowly healing, some with help, some with time, all with the knowledge that they’d survived the worst the universe could throw at them. Winifred visited every few days, her progress a miracle of the gods. She still looked haunted, but there was a new fire in her, a determination to make amends that kept her going even on the rough days. They put her up in a special facility for the “extremely traumatized,” which, given her resume, was probably the only place on earth that could handle her. She and Milo had a ways to go, but they were trying to start their relationship over and fresh.

Squall and Eira had gone to the dragon kingdom to run things while Gunnar was busy. We had news that the war was over but nothing of our friends and family. We had no news on Lyle, and I could tell Darren was very anxious over it. The truth was … I was too.

I was sitting in the royal office, Lyra napping against my chest, when the door crashed open and Ivan stormed in like a bear in search of honey. He looked the same as ever. Too big for the room, too loud for the moment, and grinning like a man who’d just won a bet with the gods.

“It’s over,” he said, not even bothering with hello. “The war is over. The demons have surrendered and have even offered a peace treaty. The first ever! Now, let me see this new little bundle.”

Darren looked up from the desk, where he’d been sorting out some trivial matter, like the entire reconstruction of the kingdom, and nearly knocked over his chair. “Ivan, you magnificent bastard,” he said, grinning so wide it looked painful. “Get over here.”

Ivan stomped across the carpet, dropped to one knee, and peered at Lyra with a gentleness that seemed out of place on his face. “She looks like her mother, thank the gods,” he announced. “No offense, Darren, but we don’t need more of your mug in the gene pool.”

I snorted, gently shifting Lyra so Ivan could see her better. “She has his nose. It’s a disaster.” I giggled as Darren gave me a look.

He pretended to be offended, but there was no hiding the pride in his eyes. “I’ll take it,” he said, voice soft.

Ivan finally stood, towering over both of us. “So what’s her name, then? Or are you calling her ‘the baby’ until she’s old enough to arm wrestle you?”

“Lyra,” I said, and the name still felt like a prayer.

He nodded, approving. “Strong name. Good name.”

“Lyle?” Darren asked, and the worry in his voice made my stomach twist. “Did something happen?”

Ivan hesitated, which was not a thing I’d ever seen him do. “Lyle …”

The door swung open as if on cue, and Lyle strode in, carrying Dayanara like a prize. She was wrapped in a blanket, her hair wild, her eyes fierce and clear. He set her gently on the couch, then turned to us with a grin that could’ve melted a glacier.

“I see we’re still one big happy family,” Lyle announced. “And nobody’s dead. Outstanding.”

Darren crossed the room in two strides and hugged Lyle so hard I heard something pop. “You’re a bastard,” Darren said, voice shaking. “You could’ve at least sent a message.”

Lyle laughed, clapping him on the back. “Sorry, Dare. I was busy not dying.” He glanced at Dayanara, who rolled her eyes but didn’t protest.

Ivan leaned against the desk, arms crossed. “Tell them the truth. That you did die.”

I looked at Lyle as he shrugged, a sheepish grin on his lips. “I don’t really remember it, but my mate saved me.”

Dayanara sat up, her voice softer than usual. “I froze time. I found the soul collector. I told him that if he so much as touched Lyle, I’d eviscerate him with my powers. I transferred powers to Lyle—”

“By marking me,” Lyle said proudly.

She smiled, a little wicked. “Then, I rewound time. Brought Lyle back before the killing blow.”

I stared. “You can do that?”

She shrugged. “Once. Maybe never again. But I did it.”

“It happened here. Everyone froze, except for those in my room. Lyra stopped it from affecting us.”

“So, we know we should never piss off your child.” Dayanara laughed as her hair fell to the side, revealing a perfect lycan mark.

Lyle grinned, showing off teeth that were a combination of his and his beast. “And after the battle, as you can see, I gave her a mark of my own.”

We all laughed. It felt good, the sound. Like a wound finally closing.

Lyra chose that moment to wake, eyes bright and hungry. She squawked, then reached out a tiny fist, like she was daring the world to try anything.

Lyle took her in his arms, cradling her with the care of someone who knew how easy it was to lose everything. “Hello, beautiful niece,” he said. “You’re the best thing this kingdom’s ever made.”

“Where is Finn?” Darren asked as he moved to wrap his arm around me.

“The king once again. He is happily back in his kingdom and restoring order. He killed his brother on the battlefield, and the vampires who were against him immediately surrendered in defeat. It was a glorious moment. He said to tell you two he better get an invite to your daughter’s introduction party.” Ivan let out a sigh. “I told my brother I would help him out for a few months, but I have asked for a leave from duty. My place is here … as long as you have room.”

“You have a permanent room here. You know that.” Darren grinned, and I could feel he was ecstatic to hear the news.

I looked around—at Darren, at Ivan, at Lyle and Dayanara, at my daughter—and realized that this was it. This was the ending we never believed we’d get. I was still missing my parents, but I knew eventually they would find their way to me and that we would be reunited.

Yes, there were still scars. There always would be. But for the first time in my life, I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wasn’t bracing for disaster.

I was just … happy.

Darren kissed the top of my head, and I smiled at him. Our family was here. They had returned safe.  These were the people we had put our faith in and given our trust to.

And I knew, deep in my bones, that we’d never let go of them.

Not ever.

Even if the gods tried. Even if Angelica came for us again. We would win.

Right now, this was everything.

This was home.