"Even if I'm dying?"
"Especially if you're dying." The words come out rougher than intended. "Maya, I've spent eight centuries making choices for people who trusted me to know best. I won't do that to you, not anymore. Whatever we decide, we decide together."
She squeezes my hand with strength that belies her fragile appearance. "Then let's table reduction rituals for now. I want to see how far this goes, how much power one enhanced human can actually channel."
"That's the scientist talking, not the woman."
"They're the same person," she corrects gently. "I became your fertility goddess to save your court, Thorian. If I'm going to die doing it, I want the death to mean something. I want to push the boundaries of what's possible rather than settling for what's safe."
It's exactly what I expected her to say, exactly what makes her both perfect for this role and heartbreaking to love. Maya approaches her own mortality like a research project, determined to gather data even if the experiment kills her.
"Two months," I say, accepting her choice while hating it. "We monitor everything, track every change. At the first sign that you or the baby are in immediate danger?—"
"We'll reassess," she agrees. "But Thorian? When the time comes to choose between me and the child, between personal happiness and the greater good... I need you to choose what's right, not what you want."
The request feels like swallowing glass. "Maya?—"
"Promise me." Her voice carries the authority of a queen giving orders to her king. "Promise you'll make the choice that serves the most people, even if it destroys you."
I stare at her across the lunch table—my brilliant, stubborn, impossible mate asking me to promise I'll let her die if necessity demands it. The woman who chose to trust me again despite having every reason not to, now trusting me with the ultimate decision about her life.
"I promise," I lie, knowing she can feel the deception through our bond but hoping she'll understand why.
Her smile tells me she does understand, and forgives me for it. "Good. Now help me to the greenhouse. I want to see if I can accelerate the rose breeding cycle before the afternoon fatigue hits."
I rise to offer my arm, steadying her as she moves with the careful grace of someone managing both advanced pregnancy and dangerous magical enhancement. These stolen moments of normalcy are precious beyond measure—playing house while racing against biology, pretending we have forever when we both know time is running out.
But as I watch her coax roses into impossible bloom with nothing but gentle touch and willpower, I allow myself to hope that love might be enough to tip the scales in our favor.
Even if logic says otherwise.
Even if hope is all we have left.
CHAPTER 27
MAYA
I waketo the taste of copper and starlight.
Blood fills my mouth from where I've bitten my tongue during another seizure—the third this week as my fertility goddess powers surge beyond what my mortal flesh can contain. Eight months pregnant now, and every day brings new evidence that my enhanced biology is reaching its absolute limits.
The divine essence flowing through my veins feels different this morning. Sharper. More aggressive. Like it's finally decided that my human frame is an obstacle to be overcome rather than a vessel to be preserved.
"Maya?" Thorian's voice carries the careful tone he's been using lately—the one that means he's trying not to alarm me while being terrified himself. "Another episode?"
I nod, not trusting my voice yet. Through our mate bond, I feel his instant surge of protective fury mixed with helplessness. He wants to fix this, to tear apart reality itself if necessary to keep me safe. But there's no enemy to fight here except my own biology consuming itself from within.
"How long was I out?"
"Forty-three minutes." The precision tells me he's been timing everything now, tracking my deterioration with scientificaccuracy. "Your heartbeat stopped twice, but the fertility magic kept your organs functioning."
Forty-three minutes. Longer than last time. I press my hand to my swollen belly, relieved when our daughter kicks strongly in response. At least the divine enhancement is still protecting her, even as it slowly kills me.
"Lady Elvinia's assessment?" I ask, though I dread the answer.
"She wants to induce labor immediately." His voice grows rough with barely contained emotion. "Maya, the magical load is approaching critical levels. Your human biology can't sustain both the enhancement and the pregnancy much longer."
I struggle to sit up, my movements awkward with the weight of our child and the exhaustion that's become my constant companion. The simple act of breathing requires conscious effort now, each inhale a negotiation between my body's needs and its dwindling capacity.
