Chapter 243

ETHAN'S POV

The scent of ash clung to my clothes as we made our way back to the mansion. My arm remained firmly around Malia's waist, unwilling to let her out of my sight even for a moment. The image of Sebastian …my own brother…watching with cold satisfaction as the witch queen's lair collapsed behind us was burned into my mind.

"You're quiet," Malia said softly, her hand finding mine as we walked through the grand entrance of our home.

I squeezed her fingers gently. "I'm thinking."

"About Sebastian?"

The name sent a fresh wave of rage through me. "Among other things."

The mansion felt different now…vulnerable in a way it never had before. If Sebastian could betray us, who else might be waiting to plunge a knife into my back? I couldn't trust anyone. Not the guards, not the servants, not even the walls that had protected my family for generations.

"You should rest," I told Malia, leading her toward our chambers. "You've been through enough today."

She looked up at me, those eyes that had captivated me from the first moment I saw her now filled with concern. "What about you?"

"I'll join you soon," I promised. "There are things I need to take care of first."

She hesitated, clearly reluctant to let me out of her sight. After what she'd been through, I couldn't blame her.

"I'll be fine," I assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "No one will harm you here. Not while I draw breath."

Finally, she nodded, allowing me to escort her to our chambers. Once she was safely inside, I stationed two of my most trusted guards…men who had served my father before me and had  connection to Sebastian outside the door.

"No one enters," I instructed them. "No one."

They nodded, their expressions solemn. They understood the gravity of the situation, even if they didn't know all the details.

I made my way to the kitchen, dismissing the staff with a wave of my hand. Their confused expressions meant nothing to me. Trust was a luxury I could no longer afford.

Alone in the kitchen, I began gathering ingredients. It had been decades since I'd cooked anything, a skill I'd learned during a brief period of rebellion in my youth when I'd lived among humans. But some things you never forget.

As I prepared a simple meal for Malia, my mind raced with everything that had happened. Sebastian's ignorance to send Malia to white cave, Gideon's vendetta. The mysterious powers Malia had displayed. And now, the life growing inside her…our child. A child that would be born into a world of enemies and betrayal.

The thought of our unborn child sent a surge of protectiveness through me unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I would not let anyone harm them, not Sebastian, not Gideon, not anyone.

When the meal was ready, I carried it personally to our chambers, nodding to the guards as they stepped aside to let me enter.

Malia was sitting by the window, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. She turned when I entered, a small smile lighting her face.

"You cooked?" she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

I set the tray down beside her. "I don't trust the staff," I admitted. "Not after what happened."

Her expression sobered. "You think someone here might be working with Gideon?"

"I think I can't afford to take chances," I replied, sitting across from her. "Not with your life. Not with our child's."

Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, a gesture that sent a strange warmth through my chest despite the circumstances.

"Eat," I encouraged her. "You need your strength."

She picked up the fork, eyeing the food with a mixture of hunger and hesitation. "What about you?"

"I fed before we left the forest," I said, not elaborating on the fact that I'd drained one of the witch queen's acolytes we'd found hiding in the ruins. Some details Malia didn't need to know, even now.

She began to eat, and I watched her, cataloging every movement, every expression. She was different since the encounter with the witch queen, stronger somehow, more confident. The power she'd displayed had changed her, or perhaps it had simply awakened something that had always been there.

"I need to visit your mother," I said abruptly.

Malia's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "My mother? Why?"

"I want her to come stay here, with us," I explained. "To help look after you during the pregnancy."

Her eyes widened. "You'd do that? Bring a human into your home?"

"I'd bring an army of humans if it meant keeping you safe," I said without hesitation. "Besides, your mother is... different. She understands our world better than most."

Malia set down her fork, her expression thoughtful. "She won't come easily," she warned. "She hasn't forgiven you for taking me."

I smiled grimly. "She doesn't have to forgive me. She just has to want to protect you."

"And our baby," Malia added softly.

"And our baby," I agreed, the words still strange on my tongue. A father. I was going to be a father.

After ensuring Malia had eaten and was resting comfortably, I left the mansion, taking only Craig with me. The night was cool, the moon hanging low in the sky as we made our way to the chamber where Elena still lived in the same modest house.

"You sure about this, Your Majesty?" Craig asked as we approached the house. "Humans can be... unpredictable."

"Elena is many things," I replied, "but unpredictable isn't one of them. She'll help us. For Malia's sake, if not for mine."

I knocked on the door, a courtesy I rarely extended to humans. After a moment, it opened to reveal Elena, her hair more gray than I remembered, but her eyes—so like Malia's—just as sharp.

"Vampire King," she said, her voice cool. "To what do I owe this... honor?"

"May I come in?" I asked, another courtesy.

She hesitated, then stepped aside. "You've never needed an invitation before."

I entered, Craig remaining outside at my signal. The house was exactly as I remembered it from the night I'd taken Malia…simple, clean, with an underlying scent of herbs and old books.

"Malia is pregnant," I said without preamble.

Elena's composure cracked, just for a moment. "Impossible," she whispered. "She's human."

"Is she?" I challenged, watching her reaction carefully. "The witch queen seemed to think otherwise."

Elena's face paled. "What witch queen?"

I told her everything—Sebastian's betrayal, Gideon's vendetta, the witch queen's attempt to use Malia as bait, and the mysterious powers she had displayed.

When I finished, Elena sank into a chair, her expression troubled. "I always feared this day would come," she murmured, more to herself than to me.

"What day?" I demanded. "What do you know about Malia's powers?"

She looked up at me, her eyes suddenly fierce. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with yet," she said firmly. "What matters now is keeping her safe."

"That's why I'm here," I said, reining in my frustration. "I want you to come stay at the mansion. To help look after her during the pregnancy."

Elena's eyebrows rose. "You want a human in your vampire stronghold?"

"I want Malia's mother with her during this time," I corrected. "And I don't trust anyone else to ensure no harm comes to her or our child."

She studied me for a long moment, her gaze penetrating. "You love her," she said finally, not a question but a statement.

"Yes," I admitted, the word easier than I expected. "More than I thought possible."

Elena nodded, as if I'd confirmed something she already knew. "I'll come," she said. "Not for you, but for her."

"I wouldn't expect anything else," I replied.

As we prepared to leave, Elena gathering the few possessions she deemed necessary, a messenger arrived at the mansion. I felt the disturbance through the blood bond I shared with all who served me—an urgent summons that couldn't wait.

"We need to return," I told Elena. "Now."

She nodded, slinging a bag over her shoulder. "Lead the way, King Ethan."

When we arrived back at the mansion, Liam, the werewolf alpha who had become our unlikely ally was waiting in my study, his expression grim.

"The Coastal Kings are here," he said without preamble. "All four of them."

I cursed under my breath. The Coastal Kings ruled the vampire territories along the eastern seaboard, their combined power nearly equal to my own. If they had come together, it could only mean trouble.