His glare could wither entire forests, but I merely smile before turning toward my chambers.
"Do let me know if you need romantic advice," I call over my shoulder. "I'm told I'm quite the expert on seduction techniques."
His reply is too muttered to hear clearly, but I catch enough to know it's both anatomically impossible and decidedly unflattering.
I find my wife standing by the window, silhouetted against the perpetual twilight that bathes the Shadow Court. She wears a simple gown of deep blue, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. Her scent drifts to me—still that strange sweetness I've noticed lately, richer than usual.
"My shadows sensed your return to our chambers," I say by way of greeting. "Missing me already?"
She turns, and my breath catches. Something has changed since this morning. Something in her golden eyes, in the set of her mouth.
Fear. She's afraid.
"I was consulting with Ivy about... court matters," she murmurs, her voice carefully controlled.
"That fairy knows less about court protocol than a drunken troll," I observe, moving closer. "Unless it was fashion advice you sought?"
A trace of a smile flickers across her features, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I've grown fond of her peculiarities."
"As have others, apparently," I murmur, thinking of my general's reaction. "Though her taste in men is questionable."
"And what of yours?" she asks, watching me with those perceptive golden eyes. "Your taste in women?"
I reach her at last, close enough to catch her scent fully—sunlight and something floral, with that underlying sweetness that's been growing stronger. My body responds instantly.
"Impeccable," I reply, voice dropping lower as I trace my finger along her jawline. "I only choose the most dangerous, defiant Omegas. The ones who might actually be capable of killing me in my sleep. It adds excitement to breakfast."
"Is that what draws you to me?" she asks softly, her voice uncertain. "The danger?"
"Among other qualities," I admit, my hand sliding into her hair, cradling the back of her head. "Your intelligence. Your strength. Your remarkable capacity to surprise me, even after all this time. The way your eyes flash gold when you're angry. The sound you make when I touch you just... here." My fingers brush the sensitive spot behind her ear, drawing a small, involuntary shiver.
Her eyes search mine, looking for something I'm not sure I can provide.
I love you, I think, the words forming with perfect clarity yet refusing to pass my lips. I love you, and it terrifies me more than anything has in centuries.
Instead of speaking the truth, I capture her mouth with mine, pouring every unspoken feeling into the kiss. She responds with equal fervor, her hands clutching at my shoulders as if she might fall without my support.
When we finally break apart, both breathing heavily, I rest my forehead against hers. "What is it?" I ask, sensing her turmoil despite her attempts to shield her emotions. "Something troubles you."
She pulls back slightly, her gaze guarded as she composes her next words carefully. "I was thinking about the children," she says.
"The orphans?" I ask, surprised by the change of subject. "Did you visit them again today?"
"No, I—" She hesitates, her hand rising unconsciously to rest on her stomach. "I was considering more generally. About children... and their fathers."
Something cold slithers down my spine at her words, at the small protective gesture. A suspicion begins to form, unwelcome and terrifying.
Is she...? No. Impossible. Light and shadow can't create life together.
Except the prophecy speaks otherwise.
"What of them?" I ask, my voice suddenly hoarse.
"I was wondering..." She looks up at me, something vulnerable and hopeful in her expression. "How you felt about them. About the idea of having them. Someday. If it was possible."
The world seems to tilt beneath my feet. Children. She's asking about children. Our children. A possibility I've never allowed myself to contemplate, not since?—
Julia's face flashes before me—her joy when she told me she was carrying my child.
