Chapter 200 Baby!
The realization hit Fennigan like a physical blow to the chest. The Winter's Breath hadn't broken her mind. When the freezing parasite threatened to stop her heart, Leela had used her elemental magic to pull her consciousness—and Zephyr's—deep inside her own core, retreating to this untouchable, perfect sanctuary. She had built a fortress out of her deepest desires to survive the cold.
He thought she was completely lost to the illusion, comfortably hidden away and unaware that the freeze was over.
But then, Leela slowed the swing. She turned her head, the breeze catching her hair, and her gaze swept across the meadow until her eyes locked directly onto his.
"Come here, my wolf," she called out. Her voice was melodic and clear, carrying effortlessly over the rustling grass.
Fennigan froze, his heart skipping a brutal beat. There it was—that dazzling, mischievous twinkle in her eyes. It was the exact same spark that still made him smile, the one that could ground him no matter how dark the world got.
Wait... she sees him?
Unsure if it was a trick of the magic or just a projection of his own desperate hope, Fennigan hesitantly raised his hand and gave a small, questioning wave.
Leela let out a soft, warm laugh. She lifted her own hand from the swing's ropes and waved him over, gesturing for him to join her in the shade of the oak tree.
The last of his hesitation shattered. Fennigan crossed the sunlit meadow in long, hurried strides until he was standing right in front of her. He looked down at his beautiful mate, overwhelmed by the sight of her and the sleeping newborn against her chest. Leela smiled up at him, her expression filled with profound love. She reached up with a warm, gentle hand and touched his face, her thumb softly tracing his jawline as if brushing away the phantom soot and sweat of the real world.
"Dada!"
The joyful, synchronized cry came from the wooden swing.
Fennigan looked over. Caspian and Briar were reaching their little arms out toward him, their silver eyes wide and happy as the swing gently swayed in the breeze. Up in the real world, safely tucked away in the packhouse nursery, the twins were fast asleep under Sarah and Toby's watchful eyes. No one up there knew that the Alpha heirs, bound by blood and potent magic to their mother, were actually projecting their consciousness right here into her sanctuary to keep her company in the dark.
Leela let the swing slow to a halt and turned her full attention back to Fennigan. With a soft, reverent smile, she used two fingers to gently pull the edge of the woven emerald sling away from the newborn’s face.
"Isn't he beautiful, Fenn?" she whispered, her eyes shining with pure, untainted joy.
Fennigan reached out with a trembling hand. He gently brushed his knuckles against the baby's warm, impossibly soft cheek. He could feel the tiny pulse, the breath against his skin. It was an illusion built by her magic, but it felt so profoundly real it made his chest ache with a fierce, protective love.
"We sure do make beautiful children, Sparky," Fennigan said, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to be the anchor she desperately needed. He kept his hand resting against her warm cheek. "But you have to come home now."
Leela’s serene smile faltered. A delicate line of confusion appeared between her brows. She looked around the sunlit meadow, at the rustling leaves of the ancient oak, and then back up at him.
"What do you mean, home?" she asked, her voice dropping to a confused murmur. "We are home, Fenn."
Fennigan stepped closer, his large hands gently framing her face, sliding his thumbs over her cheekbones. He looked deep into her eyes, pleading with her soul to recognize the truth beyond the magic.
"No, Leela," Fennigan said softly, his voice breaking. "Home. Where the twins are."
Leela gave a soft, almost dismissive laugh, gesturing toward the wooden swing beside them. "But Fenn... they're right here."
"No, Leela," Fennigan repeated, his voice a gentle, steady rumble as his thumbs stroked her cheeks. "This is a dream. A beautiful, perfect dream you made to keep Zephyr safe, but it isn't real. It isn't our home."
"But Fenn, they're right here," she insisted, her voice trembling as she gestured toward the swing.
But as the words left her mouth, the vibrant green grass around her boots instantly browned and curled inward, drying to dust.
Fennigan stepped closer, refusing to let her go. "Our real home is noisy, Sparky. It smells like pine and wet dog, and my brother yelling about something stupid. It's flawed, and it's messy, but it's real."
She pulled away from his touch, turning her back to him as she wrapped her arms protectively over the baby sling holding Zephyr. "Fenn, we are home," she whispered stubbornly.
But the sanctuary was unraveling with every ounce of cognitive dissonance. The ancient oak tree groaned, its lush leaves suddenly turning yellow, then brown, before raining down around them like brittle ash. The wooden swing where the twins had just been laughing now sat completely empty and still, the ropes fraying and snapping. The sky above them flickered, dimming like a dying bulb. Realization was a cold, creeping shadow, finally starting to dawn in her beautiful eyes as she looked at the dying, wilting meadow around her.
At that exact moment, two floors up in the safe, quiet warmth of the packhouse nursery, the twin's magical tether to their mother's dream finally released.
Caspian and Briar stirred in their plush, oversized playpen. Their silver-tipped hair was sleep-mussed as they pushed themselves up, blinking at their surroundings. Almost immediately, they launched into a babbling, animated toddler conversation, looking right at Toby and Sarah as if demanding to know what they had missed while they were asleep.
Sarah was standing near the edge of the pen, gently rocking a swaddled, freshly bathed Iggy in her arms.
Hearing the tiny newborn let out a soft, reedy squeak, Caspian abruptly stopped his babbling. His bright, Alpha-silver eyes locked onto the bundle in Sarah's arms. With single-minded toddler determination, he clumsily crawled his way over to the edge of the netting, pulling himself up by the mesh until he was standing right in front of Sarah.
He reached a chubby finger through the netting, pointing at the tiny, sleeping face tucked inside the blankets. He looked up at Sarah, his eyes shining as he flashed a wildly lopsided, toothy grin.
"Baby," Caspian announced proudly.
Sarah couldn't help but smile, the heavy, crushing tension of the night lifting just a fraction at the pure innocence of the Alpha heir. "Yes, Cas," she whispered softly, leaning down so he could get a better look. "Baby."
From across the playpen, Briar saw her brother pointing. She immediately broke into a huge, delighted smile, dropping onto her bottom and vigorously clapping her little hands together.
"Baby!" Briar giggled, the sound ringing out like actual, real-world chimes filling the nursery.