Chapter 432 Damien
Chapter 432 Damien
Damien - The Pregnancy Part 4
I’ve seen a lot of terrifying shit in my life.
Very little frightens me anymore.
This, however, is new.
I stop at the end of the corridor and stare.
Avery is marching toward the kitchens.
Marching.
My seven-month-pregnant wife, who spent most of yesterday asleep against my chest because walking from our room to the common room exhausted her, is currently stomping down the hallway with enough purpose to invade a small country.
Her belly enters every room approximately three seconds before the rest of her does now.
It’s fucking enormous.
There’s really no kinder way to put it.
She’s carrying three babies in a body that was tiny to begin with, and the contrast has become more startling with every passing week. Her arms are thinner than they were before the pregnancy, her legs have lost some of their muscle, and there are days when I can see exhaustion sitting beneath her eyes no matter how much she sleeps, but her stomach has grown and grown until I genuinely have no idea where these children expect to go for the next two months.
Assuming they wait that long.
The healers aren't convinced they will.
Today, though, there is nothing weak about the woman storming toward me.
Her golden hair is piled messily on top of her head, she's wearing one of Ezra's shirts because almost nothing else fits comfortably anymore, and there is a faint golden glow beneath her skin.
Ah.
That explains it.
The babies are pissed.
We discovered this particular phenomenon a few weeks ago.
Avery’s magic has always been strange since Rowan brought her back, something bright and warm that none of us fully understand, but pregnancy has apparently made it even stranger. Most days lately, it barely appears at all because she's too exhausted to access it.
But when the babies get upset?
They seem to find it for her.
Hungry, uncomfortable, startled, particularly offended by the way Avery is sitting—
Suddenly their mother starts glowing.
And apparently develops the temperament of a warlord.
Luke is walking beside her, looking increasingly desperate.
“Avery, slow down.”
My mouth twitches.
Luke sees me.
The relief on the poor bastard's face is immediate.
“Commander.”
Avery looks up.
Her green eyes narrow the moment she catches my smile.
“Don't.”
I raise both hands.
“I haven't said anything.”
“You're laughing at me.”
“Not yet.”
“Damien.”
That does it.
I laugh.
Her expression becomes murderous.
Gods, I fucking love her.
Luke looks between us like he's debating whether he can quietly abandon his post now that I'm here.
I glance at him.
“What happened?”
“She woke up hungry.”
“I am hungry.”
Luke continues as though she hasn't spoken.
“I offered to bring her something.”
“I can walk.”
“I told her that wasn't the issue.”
“Because there isn't an issue.”
“She got angry.”
“I did not get angry.”
The light beneath her skin pulses brighter.
Luke looks pointedly at me.
I bite the inside of my cheek.
Avery notices.
“Oh, shut up.”
“I still haven't said anything, Tiny.”
“You're thinking very loudly.”
“I generally do.”
She turns away from me and continues toward the kitchens.
I fall into step beside her.
Luke stays on her other side, his hands hovering every time she takes a slightly uneven step, which would probably be amusing if I weren't doing exactly the same fucking thing.
“How long has it been since you ate?” I ask.
She looks offended.
“Forever.”
Luke answers, “Two hours.”
Avery whips around.
“Why would you tell him that?”
“Two hours?” I repeat.
“I am growing three people.”
“I'm aware.”
“Three Verraths.”
“Unfortunately.”
She glares at me.
I grin.
“They're enormous.”
“Your fault.”
“Could be Rowan's.”
“Still your collective fault.”
“Fair.”
Her stomach gives a strange little shift beneath the shirt and she stops abruptly, pressing both hands beneath it.
My amusement disappears immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I'm already reaching for her.
“What hurts?”
“Nothing hurts.”
“Avery.”
She sighs.
“One of them moved.”
I watch her face carefully.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Her expression softens when she sees mine.
“I'm okay.”
My hand settles over the side of her belly anyway.
There's a kick almost immediately.
A hard one.
“Fucking hell.”
She gives me an exasperated look.
“See what I'm dealing with?”
Another movement presses beneath my palm.
I narrow my eyes at her stomach.
“Stop beating up your mother.”
Avery snorts.
“They can't hear you.”
“They can absolutely hear me.”
“They're babies.”
“They're Verraths.”
“That's not an explanation for everything.”
“It explains quite a lot.”
We reach the kitchens and Avery pushes through the doors with the determination of someone who's finally reached salvation.
The cooks look up.
One of them smiles immediately.
“Lady Verrath.”
Avery heads straight for her.
“Please tell me there's food.”
The woman blinks.
“This is a kitchen.”
“I know, but food I can eat now.”
“We have—”
“Anything.”
The cook turns toward one of the counters.
“There's bread that just came out, some roasted chicken, potatoes—”
“Yes.”
Avery's eyes practically close in relief.
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
The woman laughs.
“Of course.”
“And maybe cheese?”
“We have cheese.”
“And fruit?”
“Yes.”
“Something salty?”
“Certainly.”
“Something sweet?”
I lean against the counter.
The cook's smile widens.
“Yes.”
Avery's face crumples.
Oh, fuck.
One second she's issuing demands like a tiny glowing tyrant.
The next, her eyes fill with tears.
“I’m sorry.”
Every person in the kitchen freezes.
Avery wipes angrily beneath one eye.
“I don't mean to be rude. I'm just so hungry and they won't stop moving and I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks even though apparently”—she shoots Luke a betrayed look—“it's only been two hours, and I know you're all busy and I'm just walking in here demanding things and—”
“Tiny.”
Her lower lip trembles.
Fuck me.
I cross the distance between us and cup her face.
“Hey.”
“I was rude.”
“You weren't.”
“I demanded cheese.”
“You're pregnant with triplets. I think the Institute will recover from the Great Cheese Demand.”
A tiny laugh breaks through her tears.
There she is.
The cook is already piling food onto a plate.
“Lady Verrath, you can come in here and demand cheese whenever you please.”
Avery looks over my arm.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Thank you.”
She sounds so genuinely grateful that half the kitchen looks ready to cry with her.
I wipe beneath her eyes with my thumbs.
“You're very frightening, you know.”
She frowns.
“What?”
“This new monster form.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Damien.”
“I like it.”
“You're making fun of me.”
“Never.”
“Liar.”
I kiss her forehead.
“I love you in your monster form.”
“I am not a monster.”
“Of course not.”
The golden glow brightens beneath her cheeks.
I grin.
“Look at you.”
“Stop.”
“Glowing while demanding potatoes.”
“I'm going to hit you.”
“There's my girl.”
She does hit me.
Barely.
A little smack against my chest.
I catch her hand and kiss her knuckles before she can pull it away.
Then my attention drops to the enormous curve between us.
I crouch.
I place both hands carefully on either side of her belly.
“Listen here, you three.”
“Damien.”
“I know this is you.”
Luke looks away, shoulders shaking.
“These sweet little innocent babies have done nothing,” Avery says.
I look up at her.
“Sweet?”
“Yes.”
I look back at her stomach.
“They're turning you into a dark fucking villain because they haven't received food in two hours.”
“Don't swear at the babies.”
“They've heard worse.”
“From you!”
“Exactly. They're acclimated.”
I lean closer to her stomach.
“Now, I understand you're Verraths, so naturally you're demanding, impatient little monsters—”
“Damien.”
“—but your mother weighs approximately nothing besides the three of you right now, so maybe stop stealing all her energy.”
Something kicks directly beneath my hand.
I pause.
Avery's mouth falls open.
Luke actually laughs.
I slowly look up at her.
“Did one of my children just fucking kick me?”
She presses her lips together.
Her eyes are sparkling.
“Don't laugh.”
That ruins it.
She bursts into giggles.
Real, bright, uncontrollable giggles, her hands landing on my shoulders as another kick rolls beneath my palm.
I stare at her belly in betrayal.
“You little shit.”
“Damien!”
I stand again, laughing as I wrap an arm around her.
The cook puts a plate down.
Avery's laughter ends immediately.
“Oh my gosh.”
She sits.
The transformation is incredible.
One second, murderous magical creature.
The next, happiest woman alive because someone has put warm bread in front of her.
I pull a chair beside hers while Luke takes up position near the door.
Avery bites into the bread.
Her eyes close.
She makes a tiny sound of pure satisfaction.
I watch her chew.
The glow beneath her skin slowly begins to fade.
I shake my head.
“Unbelievable.”
And I watch every bite like it's the best fucking thing I've seen all week.
Because lately, food has been a battle.
Standing has been a battle.
Keeping enough strength in that little body to carry our children has been a battle.
So if today she wants to march into the kitchens glowing like an angry little sun and demand half their stores because our children have decided two hours without eating is an unforgivable offense?
Fine.
She can demand the whole fucking kitchen.
I'll build her another one.
She catches me staring.
“What?”
I shake my head.
“Nothing, Tiny.”
She holds out a piece of bread.
I lean forward and take the bite directly from her fingers.
Her smile returns.
And beneath my hand, resting gently against the curve of her belly, one of our babies kicks again.
I narrow my eyes.
“I felt that.”
Avery laughs.
“They already don't listen to you.”
“Clearly.”
“They get that from me.”
I look at my tiny, glowing, bread-devouring wife.
“Yeah.”
I kiss her temple.
“They definitely fucking do.”