Chapter 60 Life And War
Chapter 60 Life And War
The moon rose in full and it was pale over Bookthorn Kingdom, but Aria did not look up to greet it.
She sat alone in the small chamber at the eastern wing of the mansion with her fingers curled tightly around the edge of a wooden table. The room smelled of crushed herbs and melted wax. A single candle burned low in the room, its flame was trembling as though it was sensing her unrest.
Maeve’s words still echoed in her ears.
“Your body is not wounded. It is... changing.”
Aria swallowed hard and pressed a hand to her abdomen again, as if the truth might disappear if she did not acknowledge it for too long.
Pregnant.
The word felt unreal. It felt heavy and dangerous.
Maeve had confirmed it with ancient magic and that just confirmed what Aria’s own instincts had been whispering to her for days. The exhaustion. The strange pull toward stillness. The way her powers surged and softened at the same time, like waves learning a new rhythm.
A child.
Her child.
Lucian’s child.
Aria closed her eyes with her breath shuddering as a thousand thoughts crashed through her at once.
This was not the time.
Not now when the kingdom is standing on the edge of something ancient and hungry. Not now, when Kael is still breathing, still ruling, and still remains unpunished for the betrayal and pain he caused her. Not now when Aria herself was becoming more than a Luna, someone bound to prophecy and war.
She stood abruptly, pacing the room.
“If I keep you,” she whispered into the silence with her voice breaking, “I will become vulnerable.” Her hand trembled as it rested over her belly. “And if I become vulnerable... everyone does.”
The thought of Kael still living in peace burned sharp and bright in her mind. His face. His cruelty. The way his name tasted like poison on her tongue. Revenge was not just a desire, it was a promise she had carved into her soul. A promise she intends on keeping.
How could she fulfill it while carrying a life inside her?
How could she get into a battle while knowing every strike against her body might strike her child too?
A quiet knock came at the door.
Aria froze.
“Aria?” Lucian’s voice followed, it was low and careful. “You’ve been gone too long.”
She did not answer.
The door opened slowly anyway, and Lucian stepped inside with the kind of caution reserved for wounded creatures. His eyes immediately found her face and it softened with concern.
“There you are,” he murmured. “Maeve said you needed rest.”
Aria turned away, unable to meet his gaze.
That made Lucian frown slightly. “What’s wrong?”
She laughed bitterly. “Do you ever feel like fate enjoys mocking us?”
Lucian stepped closer to her. “What do you mean? Talk to me.”
Aria’s throat tightened. She wanted to tell him. The words burned behind her lips, begging to be released but once spoken, she knew they would change everything.
Finally, she whispered, “Maeve confirmed it.”
Lucian stiffened. “Confirmed what?”
Aria turned to face him then, moonlight catching in her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
For a heartbeat, Lucian just stood there and said nothing.
Then his breath left him in a rush.
His wolf surged forward with a powerful, protective instinct, with his eyes glowing faintly as emotion cracked through his usually controlled expression.
“A child?” he asked hoarsely. “Our child?”
Aria nodded.
Joy lit his face instantly, it was raw, unguarded, overwhelming. He crossed the room in two strides and took her hands in his, pressing his forehead to hers.
“This is... Aria, this... this is a blessing,” he breathed. “A future. Proof that even after everything, life still chooses us.”
Her hands clenched in his grip.
“No,” she said sharply. “It’s complicated."
Lucian pulled back, confusion clouding his joy. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t do this,” Aria said, her voice shaking now. “I can’t fight Kael, face Alaric’s legacy, and protect the kingdom while carrying a child. I can’t risk them using it against me. Against us.”
Lucian’s smile faded.
“You’re talking about ending the pregnancy," he said quietly.
Aria’s silence was enough of an answer.
Lucian released her hands slowly, pain flashing across his face. “Aria… please.”
She turned away again, tears blurring her vision. “You didn’t grow up hunted, Lucian. You don’t know what it means to be powerful and desired and disposable all at once. A child would make me weak.”
“No,” he said fiercely. “It would make you human.”
She laughed hollowly. “That’s the problem. I don't want to be like a weak human."
Lucian was stepping toward her again, but she raised a hand, stopping him.
“I need time,” she whispered. “I need to think.”
Lucian nodded slowly, though the hurt in his eyes cut deep. “Whatever you decide,” he said carefully, “just know you are not facing it alone.”
After he left, the room felt colder.
Aria sank onto the edge of the bed, with her hands shaking as she pressed them over her stomach again. For a fleeting moment—just a heartbeat—she felt something warm, something gentle, like a pulse answering her touch.
Her breath caught.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
The moonlight shifted suddenly, shadows stretching unnaturally across the walls. Aria frowned as she fully lifted her head.
The air thickened.
A whisper curled through the room, not carried by sound but by blood and bone.
“Moonblood…”
Aria stiffened.
Her shadows stirred uneasily, recoiling toward the corners.
“Who’s there?” she demanded.
The whisper came again, this time it was closer.
“You carry more than one legacy now.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
The temperature in the room dropped sharply.
Then, from the far corner of the room, a shape emerged from the darkness, It was not fully formed, not fully real.
A familiar presence that is ancient and hungry.
“You cannot choose both, you have to choose one,” the voice murmured smoothly. “Vengeance or creation.”
Aria’s breath came in shallow gasps.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The shadows parted slightly, revealing glowing golden eyes.
“I am what waits beneath the kingdom,” the voice said softly. “And your child is the key we've been waiting for.”
Aria staggered back, horror flooding her veins.
“No,” she said firmly. “You won’t touch my child. I won't allow you to touch my child.”
The presence laughed lowly.
“Decide quickly, Moonblood descendants,” it warned. “Because if you don’t choose... someone else will.”
The shadows collapsed inward.
The candle flame died.
Aria screamed, her cry echoing through the halls as she clutched her stomach, torn between the life growing inside her and the war that demanded her blood.