The final thrust that seats his knot completely sends me over the edge with violent intensity. My pussy clamps down around his massive length while waves of corrective energy flow through our reconnected bond, burning away three days of toxic separation.
"Mine," he growls as his own release floods my womb with claiming heat. "My mate, my queen, my salvation."
His seed fills me completely, but more than physical claiming, I feel his essence repairing what was broken. The bond that nearly killed me with its absence now thrums between us like a bridge rebuilt stronger than before.
We lie tangled together in the aftermath, his knot still locking us in intimate connection while my body slowly remembers how to function with proper alpha support. The baby moves more strongly now, no longer struggling to survive on failing maternal resources.
"I'm sorry," I whisper against his throat, though I'm not entirely sure what I'm apologizing for.
"For leaving when you had every right to?" He strokes my hair with infinite gentleness. "For choosing possible death over certain manipulation? Maya, you have nothing to apologize for."
"But I almost died. Almost killed our baby out of stubborn pride."
"You almost died because I lied to you about deadly risks," he corrects firmly. "Because I manipulated you into trusting someone who had already failed seven times. Your anger was justified, sweetheart. Your leaving was the consequence of my choices, not yours."
The honesty in his voice makes my chest tight with complicated emotions. "So what happens now?"
"Now we rebuild," he says simply. "With truth instead of lies, partnership instead of manipulation. And I spend every day proving that choosing you was the best decision I've ever made."
His knot finally releases, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he gathers me closer, his massive frame surrounding me with warmth and security I'd forgotten I craved.
As I drift toward the first peaceful sleep I've had in days, I allow myself to hope that love might be enough to overcome the darkness ahead.
Even if that love was born from deception, it's grown into something real. Something worth fighting for.
Something worth living for.
CHAPTER 26
THORIAN
Three months.
Three months since I carried Maya home from her sister's sterile laboratory, three months of watching her bloom and wither simultaneously like a flower drinking poisoned water. Our bond has never been stronger—built now on truth rather than manipulation—but her body is slowly losing the war against powers that were never meant for mortal flesh.
I stand in the conservatory at dawn, watching her tend to the experimental seedlings that respond to her fertility goddess touch with explosive growth. She's seven months pregnant now, her belly rounded with our child, and every morning I wake expecting to find her too weak to rise.
Instead, she pushes herself harder, as if she can outrun the biology that's slowly consuming her.
"The flowering cycle is accelerating again," she murmurs, her hands glowing with soft green light as she examines a vine that's produced fruit three times in the past week. "I think the enhancement is causing temporal displacement in plant reproduction. They're living entire seasons in days."
"Like their goddess," I observe quietly, settling behind her to wrap my arms around her swollen middle. Through our bond,I feel the constant strain in her system—divine power burning through human resources faster than they can be replenished.
She leans back against my chest with a tired sigh. "How long do we have?"
The question she's been avoiding for weeks, finally spoken aloud. I press my face into her hair, breathing in the scent that's become increasingly precious to me—omega sweetness overlaid with the green growing scent of uncontrolled fertility magic.
"Lady Elvinia estimates two months until the baby comes," I reply honestly. "Perhaps less, if the enhancement continues accelerating your biology."
"That's not what I meant."
No. It's not. She wants to know how long before the power that makes her a goddess burns through the mortality that makes her mine. The question that keeps me awake at night, calculating and recalculating magical loads that were never meant for human frames.
"I don't know," I admit, the words tasting like failure. "The enhancement is stronger than anything we've seen before. Your survival this long is already unprecedented."
Maya's hand covers mine where it rests on her belly, our child moving restlessly beneath our joined touch. "The baby's making it worse, isn't it?"
Another truth she deserves, no matter how much it hurts to voice. "Fae pregnancies draw on both parents' magical reserves. The child is taking power you can't afford to give."
