The room was still, with only her ragged breaths filling the quiet. Soon, Leda returned with Annora and Gloriana. They rushed Evelina to the Celestial Temple, the waves of pain growing closer together.
By the time they reached the grounds of the temple, the Sacred was already waiting.
The baby was coming. Now.
Evelina exchanged a panicked look with Annora. This was it. She had to pray the darkness of night and her affinity for light would be enough to cover the severed shadows that presented in the child.
She had to trust in Annora, and in herself. Because right now, her child needed her to push.
Within the hour, she gave birth to a perfect little girl.
The pain of the birth subsided the moment she heard the baby take her first cry. Tears streamed down Evelina’s face as she held her daughter in her arms. Her little cheeks were red, her eyes closed. Evelina dropped a kiss to her forehead, her heart swelling with pride at this perfect child.
The council gathered, eager to see the child and watch over the blessing of her Essence.
Evelina held her breath as the Sacred stepped forward. This was it.
“You have chosen to have your child on the sacred grounds of Eurydice’s temple and your child will be blessed for it.” As was tradition when the queen birthed a new heir, the Sacred laid a white rose in front of Evelina.
Light gathered at the baby’s chest, and Evelina threw all of her focus into making it brighter, bright enough that no shadows could be seen. The Sacred turned her head to Evelinaand tilted it to the side. Evelina’s breath caught as her bright eyes seared into her.
The light lifted into the air and traveled over to Evelina, just as it had with Leda.
She held her breath and waited for the Sacred to say something, to say she could sense Evelina using her magic to make the light brighter. But the Sacred remained silent.
Eurydice, forgive me, she prayed.
What if it didn’t work? She already knew she could never allow this child to be taken from her arms, and damn anyone that would try. She knew her council was loyal to her, but how far did that loyalty run? Even now, they believed they were responsible for the father’s absence today.
Her exhausted muscles tensed, prepared to take the baby and run if needed.
The light flared brighter. She swore her heart stopped beating as she waited.
There were no shadows, no signs that pointed to Daimon being the father. No severed line to curse the child—no line from the father at all.
They had managed to cover the shadow before it showed, leaving it to look as if there was only magic returning to Evelina and none to a father. Just as it should if the father was a human, as the council believed.
She did it. Annora smiled and sat heavily on the ground.
“Glad to see she at least has some chance at having Essence,” said Iris in a tone both pitying and curious. “Perhaps your light will be enough.”
Seretha stared at the child, her brows furrowed. “Her name?” she asked.
Evelina thought about Daimon, about what they would decide if they could have this conversation together. Memories of their childhood came to mind first—of the safety she felt hiding between the shimmering pods of the lunaria garden, dreaming together. When he met her there morning aftermorning after her father died. When they played pretend and he took her mind off the bad days.
“Lunaria,” she said with pride, looking down at the child they had created together. “Lunaria Manor.”
She smiled at her beautiful little girl, her magic still flaring around her. She was safe in her arms.
But through the light, a small shadow flickered before it disappeared entirely.
Eighty-Two
Daimon
There wasa time when Daimon could stave off the darkness with the taste of Evelina’s smile, with a breath of her lily scent. Her soft eyes and fierce mind could chase away the demons that threatened to pull him down, to fight off Vidaris’s influence that surrounded him daily.
Evelina was always the thing that kept him going—kept him sane. But he didn’t have that anymore. Not even in the dream realm, a place he always thought he would have her. The memories of her weren’t enough to stave off the pit growing inside of him. There was nothing to fill the pain anymore. Nothing to make him feel worthy.
