"I wouldn’t have thought of that," Vera admitted. "If you can get your babies to work as a unit instead of reacting instinctively as they have been, this could work."
"It would also let you guide their power during any confrontation," Thalia added. “Even if it doesn’t allow us to return to the plan of luring Lyra here.”
"Let's try it," I decided. "Anything that gives us more options is worth attempting."
Clio nodded and began gathering supplies from the items strewn about the house. "We'll need a quiet space where you can focus without interruption. And everyone else will need to leave you alone. And before you start arguing, there is plenty you can do while she’s in the meditative state."
"The master bedroom," Aidon suggested. "It's the most heavily warded space in the house, and she will be comfortable."
“It would be nice to lie down,” I admitted.
As we prepared to head upstairs, Jean-Marc caught my arm. "Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?"
I saw the vulnerability he was trying to hide. "Of course, sweetheart."
We stepped into the hallway while the others continued planning. Jean-Marc ran his hands through his hair. A nervous habit he'd picked up from his biological father.
"I keep thinking about what Thalia said," Jean-Marc began, his voice barely above a whisper. I had to lean closer to catch his words. "About Lyra wanting to use the babies as vessels. I can't shake this feeling that I need to do something—anything—to help protect them. And you."
My heart clenched in that way that happened whenever one of my kids was in pain. My maternal instinct made me want to wrap him up and shield him from every hurt in the world. "Jean-Marc, honey?—"
"I know there's probably not much I can actually do," he rushed on, like he was afraid I'd cut him off before he could get it all out. "But they're going to be my siblings. Half-siblings, yeah, but still. I want to help somehow. I should be able to protect my family."
I opened my mouth to reassure him, but he kept going, his words tumbling out faster now. "Although..." His voice cracked slightly. "I get it if you don't want me involved. I mean, I always screw everything up anyway. I couldn't even—" He swallowed hard. "I couldn't even be enough for Dad. So why would I be any good at protecting the babies?"
Oh, hell no! Not on my watch. "Stop right there." I grabbed his face between my hands, probably harder than I should have, but I needed him to really hear me. "Jean-Marc, look at me.You are doing enough. More than enough. You think researching until your eyes bleed isn't helping? You think having our backs through every single nightmare we've faced doesn't count? Baby, you've already done more to protect this family than most people do in a lifetime."
"But what if it's not enough when they get here?" The raw fear in his voice made my chest ache. "What if I fail them the way I failed him?"
"You didn't fail your father," I said fiercely. "You were a kid trying to earn love from someone who didn't know how to give it. That wasn't your failure. That was his."
"But these babies will be counting on me," he whispered, and damn it, his eyes were getting watery. "When they're older and need their big brother, what if I can't be what they need? What if I mess up like I always do?"
The uncertainty in his voice absolutely gutted me. This kid—this incredible, brave, brilliant kid who'd faced down an evil witch and dark magic without flinching—was terrified he wouldn't measure up as a big brother. It made me love him even more, which I didn’t think was possible.
"You want to know something?" I said, brushing away the tear that threatened to spill down his cheek. "Every big sibling in the history of the world has felt exactly like that. Being a good brother isn't about being perfect, sweetheart. It's about showing up when it matters, even when you're scared senseless."
He gave me a watery smile. "Really?"
"Really. And Jean-Marc?" I made sure he was looking directly at me. "You've already proven you're going to be amazing at this. You've protected us through so many hellish things already. You've thrown yourself into danger for the people you love, researched until you nearly collapsed, and turned into the kind of man any mother would be proud to call her son. And you know what else? Aidon loves you. He loves youlike you're his own. You're not half of anything in this family—you're whole. You're ours. Those babies are going to win the lottery having you as their big brother."
He crashed into me then, arms wrapping around me so tight I could barely breathe. But I didn't care one bit, because I could feel some of that bone-deep fear finally leaving his body. I'd won the lottery having him for a son.
"I love you, Mom."
"I love you too, sweetheart." I held him tighter, breathing in that familiar scent that was uniquely Jean-Marc. "More than you could ever possibly know."
He squeezed me one last time and let me go. With my arm still around him, we rejoined the others in the living room. Aidon was waiting for me. “You ready to go up?”
Nodding, I kissed Jean-Marc on the cheek and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be up in a few,” Clio called out. “I need to gather a few more things.”
"Sounds good," I said, trying not to waddle as Aidon guided me upstairs to our bedroom.
The moment he closed the door behind us, I felt the familiar wave of exhaustion that came with carrying what felt like an entire football team in my belly. "Is Jean-Marc okay?" Aidon asked, immediately moving to my side as I approached the bed like it was Mount Everest.
"He's scared shitless he won't be good enough as a big brother," I said, gripping his forearm as he helped me climb onto the mattress. "Jesus, this is like trying to get a beached whale onto dry land."
Aidon's hands were gentle but firm as he supported my weight. He kept one arm around my back and the other steadying my elbow. "Easy," he murmured. "Let me do the work."
