Chapter 130 Oops

Chapter 130 Oops


Vuk Kael Laskovic

“You were jealous…”

Her voice carried that teasing softness I had come to recognize too well, the kind that always made something warm settle deep in my chest even when I tried to act unaffected.

“No, I wasn’t,” I lied instantly, not even bothering to hide the stubborn edge in my tone.

She chuckled softly at that, the sound low and warm, like she had already caught me in the lie before I even finished speaking. The mattress shifted slightly beneath her as she leaned closer, her eyes shining with quiet amusement while she studied my face like she was reading straight through me.

“You can’t fool me,” she murmured, her fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns across my chest. “You were jealous.”

“No,” I repeated again, firmer this time, though even I could hear the weakness hiding inside the denial.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Her smile widened slowly, mischievous and knowing, the kind of smile that always made me feel exposed no matter how much control I pretended to have.

I let out a quiet chuckle under my breath, shaking my head slightly before reaching forward and pulling her firmly against me. My hand slid to the back of her neck, fingers threading gently through her hair as I leaned down and kissed her deeply, cutting off whatever smart remark she was about to throw at me next.

The kiss started slow.

Soft.

Unhurried.

But it deepened quickly, warmth spreading through my chest as her lips moved against mine with familiar ease. She melted into the contact without resistance, her hands sliding up along my shoulders, gripping lightly as if anchoring herself against me. The taste of her, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the quiet sound of her breath mixing with mine—it all settled something restless inside me.

Gods…

I had missed this.

Missed her.

Missed the quiet moments where the world stopped demanding strength and left only softness behind.

When I finally pulled back slightly, our foreheads rested together, her breath brushing faintly against my lips. Her eyes stayed half-lidded, still smiling faintly, still waiting.

“Fine,” I muttered quietly, my voice rougher now. “Yes… I was jealous.”

Her smile widened immediately.

“I knew it,” she whispered triumphantly.

I rolled my eyes faintly, though my arms tightened instinctively around her waist, pulling her closer until there was barely any space left between us.

“You got all cozy with your best friend,” I admitted, my tone quieter now, more honest than I usually allowed. “Laughing… whispering… holding hands like I wasn’t even in the room.”

She laughed softly at that, her shoulders shaking faintly against my chest.

“Oh, so that’s what bothered you?” she teased gently. “Not the fact that we were talking… but the hand-holding?”

“Don’t mock me,” I muttered, though there was no real bite behind the words.

She tilted her head slightly, studying my face again, her expression softening into something warmer now.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured fondly. “She’s my friend.”

“I know,” I replied quietly.

And I did.

But knowing didn’t erase the feeling.

Didn’t erase the tight knot that formed in my chest whenever I saw her laugh with someone else, share warmth that I selfishly wanted reserved only for me.

Because the truth was—

I was possessive.

Not in anger.

Not in control.

But in love.

She noticed the shift in my expression almost instantly, her teasing fading into quiet understanding as her fingers slid gently along my jaw, tracing the faint stubble there like she always did when she wanted to soften me without words.

“You really were jealous,” she whispered again, softer this time.

I exhaled slowly, letting my forehead rest lightly against hers, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, steady and grounding in a way nothing else ever was.

“Yes,” I admitted fully now. “I was.”

She smiled at that—not teasing this time, not mocking—but warm and satisfied, like my honesty meant more to her than my pride ever did. Her fingers slipped into my hair gently, tugging me closer until our noses brushed faintly together.

“You have nothing to be jealous of,” she murmured softly. “Not now. Not ever.”

My hand moved instinctively along her back, drawing slow circles against her skin as I absorbed the quiet reassurance in her voice.

“You’re mine,” she whispered.

“I know,” I murmured back quietly. “And thanks be to the gods for that.”

I smiled faintly and pulled her into a tighter embrace, holding her there for a few long seconds, breathing her in like I needed the reminder that she was real, safe, still here with me.

In the days that followed, we spent most of our time in the nursery.

Not council halls.

Not courtrooms.

Not war rooms.

The nursery.

And gods help me, that place had turned into absolute chaos.

Lauren, Lucian, and Adrian were already more trouble than most grown warriors, and their cat—yes, their damned cat—had somehow made everything worse.

I stood in the doorway of the nursery one afternoon, arms folded across my chest as I stared at the scene in front of me with slow disbelief.

“I can't even describe how my courtroom has turned into a cat’s room,” I muttered dryly.

Maureen snorted softly behind me, clearly amused.

Gold lay proudly across the center rug, her massive black body curled protectively around her newborn kittens, while that filthy stray male cat—her so-called mate—sat nearby like he owned the entire castle.

Eating.

Relaxing.

Breathing my air.

The nerve.

The audacity.

The disrespect.

The male stray cat lifted his head lazily and stared straight at me, completely unbothered by my murderous glare.

My eye twitched slightly.

The disrespect was personal now.

The moment I stepped forward, intending to drag that useless creature out by the tail myself—

Gold hissed.

Loud.

Sharp.

Violent.

I froze mid-step.

“…Did Gold just hiss at me?” I asked slowly, turning my head toward Maureen with disbelief written all over my face.

Maureen didn’t even try to hide her grin.

“That’s her husband,” she said casually. “He ain’t leaving nowhere.”

I stared at her.

Then at the cats.

Then back at her again.

“Wow,” I muttered slowly. “Wow.”

I bit into my lower lip, staring at the two cats like they had personally betrayed me.

Traitors.

Every single one of them.

Before I could continue my silent war with the animals, a soft fussing sound pulled my attention toward the crib.

Maureen had taken Adrian into her arms, settling into the rocking chair while holding a small feeding bottle to his mouth.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured gently. “Eat a little more…”

Adrian, however, had different plans.

He squirmed.

Turned his head.

Refused the bottle completely.

Maureen frowned slightly.

“Adrian…” she tried again, nudging the bottle back toward his mouth. “You haven’t eaten enough.”

He made a small frustrated sound, pushing weakly against the bottle with surprising stubbornness for someone so tiny.

I watched them quietly for a moment before stepping closer, leaning lightly against the side of the chair.

“Maybe you should leave him,” I suggested calmly. “He doesn’t want it.”

She shot me a look immediately.

“You always say that,” she muttered. “He needs to eat.”

Adrian squirmed again.

Turned his head sharply.

Then suddenly—

He sneezed.

A small sound.

Soft.

Harmless.

Or so I thought.

Until—

WHOOSH.

A sudden burst of fire shot outward across the room.

Bright.

Hot.

Violent.

The curtains beside the crib ignited instantly, flames climbing upward in seconds as heat flooded the air.

Maureen gasped sharply.

“What?!”

Her voice cracked in pure shock as she jumped to her feet, clutching Adrian tightly against her chest.

“They—did he do that?” she stammered, eyes wide with disbelief.

“He did that?” she repeated, looking straight at me now like she needed confirmation that she wasn’t losing her mind.

My heart slammed hard once against my ribs.

Not fear.

Not panic.

Recognition.

I stepped forward instantly, lifting my hand with calm precision.

With a snap of my fingers—

The flames vanished.

Gone.

Like they had never existed.

Smoke curled faintly into the air, leaving behind the sharp smell of burned fabric and lingering heat clinging to the curtains.

Silence fell over the room.

Heavy.

Unbelieving.

Slowly… very slowly… I turned my head toward Adrian.

The boy blinked sleepily in Maureen’s arms, his tiny lashes fluttering as if nothing unusual had just happened—as if he hadn’t nearly burned down half the nursery with a single sneeze.

I stared at him.

Long.

Careful.

Studying every detail of his face like I was seeing him for the first time.

“Wow…” I murmured quietly, a slow grin spreading across my lips despite myself. “Congratulations, Prince Adrian… you are indeed the son of Vuk.”

Maureen let out a shaky breath beside me, still holding Adrian tightly against her chest like she was afraid to loosen her grip even a little.

I turned my attention toward the other two babies lying in the crib, watching us with wide curious eyes.

“Do you think the rest can… you know…” I asked slowly, my voice filled with dangerous curiosity.

Maureen swallowed.

“I… I wasn’t expecting that but—”

I didn’t even wait for her to finish.

Excitement got the better of me.

Before she could protest, I reached into the crib and scooped Lucian up into my arms, lifting him easily and holding him at arm’s length like I was inspecting a weapon I intended to test.

“Alright, buddy,” I said eagerly, shaking him lightly. “Blaze me! Burn me!”

Maureen gasped immediately.

“Vuk!” she snapped sharply. “Come on—just because his brother did that doesn’t mean he would—”

“Heyy… why not?” I insisted stubbornly, bouncing Lucian slightly in my arms. “Come on… show me you’re truly the son of Vuk Laskovic. Blaze me!”

Lucian blinked up at me.

Calm.

Confused.

Then—he chuckled.

Actually chuckled.

A soft, bubbling baby sound that made absolutely no sense in this situation.

“Oh, drop him,” Maureen muttered with a tired shake of her head. “He’s not blazing you.”

“Come on…” I insisted, lowering my face slightly closer to his. “Do it for Daddy… please…”

“Vuk…”

“Please, Lucian… blaze me…”

“He’s not—”

“Please—”

“Vuk!!”

Before I could argue again—

A sudden soft giggle filled the room.

Not Lucian.

Lauren.

We both froze.

Slowly, our heads turned toward the crib.

Lauren lay there, staring directly at me with bright, curious eyes. Her tiny fingers curled slowly into a fist like she was preparing to grab something invisible in the air.

Then—

She swung her little arm forward.

And something hit my leg.

Hard.

“Ouch!” I muttered instinctively, jerking backward slightly.

But it wasn’t fire.

No heat.

No flames.

Instead—

Cold.

Violent, biting cold spread instantly across my leg, crawling upward like living frost. Ice bloomed across the fabric of my trousers in jagged patterns, crackling softly as frozen crystals formed over the surface.

Not normal ice.

Not harmless ice.

This burned in its own way.

Sharp.

Freezing.

Alive.

“Lauren!!! Oh my gods!!!” Maureen screamed loudly, panic flooding her voice as she quickly passed Adrian into a nearby maid’s arms before rushing toward the crib.

She scooped Lauren up instantly, holding her tightly against her chest, eyes wide with disbelief and shock.

“Mummy… you have to do that again… okay… blaze mummy…” she whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling with excitement and fear all at once.

I bent down slightly, brushing frozen shards from my leg, watching the frost melt slowly into droplets against the floor.

“Ouch…” I muttered again, still stunned.

Then I looked back at Lauren.

Really looked at her.

“Wow…” I breathed softly. “Our babies…”

Maureen turned slowly toward me, Lauren still pressed protectively against her chest, her eyes shining with something wild and emotional.

“…Alright, Vuk,” she whispered carefully. “Hand Lucian to me… I’m sure he has his own… down there somewhere…”

I glanced at Lucian again.

Still in my arms.

Still calm.

Still smiling like he knew something we didn’t.

Slowly… very slowly… I handed him over to Maureen.

And the moment she took him—

Lucian let out a sudden sharp cry.

The air in the room shifted.

Subtle.

But real.

The curtains trembled slightly.

Not from fire.

Not from ice.

But from pressure, the wind was violent now.

Like something unseen had pushed outward from his tiny body.

I felt it immediately.

That familiar surge.

Power.

Raw.

Untrained.

Dangerous.

This was lineage.

Power.

Legacy.

And as I looked at the three of them—Lauren, Lucian, and Adrian—something deep in my chest settled into certainty.

“These children…” I murmured slowly, my voice quieter now.

“…are going to terrify the world.”

“And that's on us!!!" Maureen added with a beautiful smile.