Sharlene wiped down the wand and printed out a strip of glossy photos, four tiny shapes, four tiny heartbeats frozen in ck and white. I clutched them like treasure, smoothing the edge of the paper with shaking fingers. Proof. My babies. Our babies.


    “Triple check?” I asked, half–serious, half–praying.


    Sharlene chuckled, tapping the screen onest time before shutting it off. “Triple checked. No more hiding in there.”


    A shakyugh broke out of me, and I pressed the photos to my chest. “Good. Because if there were a fifth, I’d need sedation.”


    The room smiled with me, but the exhaustion was sinking deep now, pulling at all of us. Mum


    stretched stiffly, Dad already at her elbow to steady her, and Aleisha leaned heavily into Tommy, her head on his shoulder.


    “You all need to rest,” I said, softer than amand but firm enough to make it clear. “Go home. Heal. We’ll be alright here.”


    Mum kissed the top of my head, whispering, “So proud of you, darling,” before she and Dad stepped into Xavier’s portal. Aleisha winked and squeezed my hand, Tommy gave me a nod, and then they were gone too.


    The room felt quieter without them.


    I turned my eyes to Felix. He looked impossibly fragile, older than he had only hours ago, but


    his


    eyes burned with life. I crossed to his bedside, lowering myself slowly. “I’ll be back,” I promised. My throat caught. “And thank you. For all of this. For everything you’ve given us.”


    His cracked lips curved into the softest smile. “I’m happy,” he rasped. “Happy I was here to see this. To see you alive. To see them alive.” His eyes flicked to the strip of photos in my hand. “Little warriors, every one of them.”


    I bent, kissing his forehead, tasting salt and sweat and grief. “Rest,” I whispered. “We’ll see you


    soon.”


    And then it was time.


    My mates gathered close, their hands finding mine, steadying me as Xavier opened the portal. The air shimmered, rippling with dark light, and on the other sidey Elliot’s house–the ce he now called home, with his brother, his family, his safety.


    I took onest look at the photos clutched in my hand, then stepped forward, “Let’s go see our


    boy.”


    Together, we walked through.


    The first thing I noticed wasn’t the smell of fresh bread or woodsmoke; it was the noise.


    It was early morning, the sun barely pushing through the curtains, but the house was alive with sharp voices and heavy pacing. Reina was practically wearing grooves into the floor, her steps quick, tight, her hands cutting the air as she spoke. Elliot, Macey, and Elias were lined up on the couch like they’d been nted there, eyes wide, their shoulders hunched against the storm of her worry.


    Mchi, Julius, and Arztec leaned against the far wall, smirks tugging at their mouths as


    though they’d seen this scene y out a hundred times before. Beside them, George sat heavily in a chair, rubbing his temples, looking like the weight of both fatherhood and


    sleeplessness had finally won.


    “What if something had gone wrong?” Reina demanded, her voice sharp enough to cut ss. She spun on Elliot, her eyes zing. “What if I couldn’t get to you in time? Do you have any


    idea what could have happened? You can’t just portal away from us like that without a word!”


    “Mum…” Elliot started, but she cut him off with a raised hand.


    “No. Don’t ‘Mum‘ me. We could have helped! We would have helped! That’s what we’re here


    for, Elliot. To keep you safe. To keep you alive!” Her voice broke on thest word, the fear


    under all that fire slipping free.


    Elliot shrank back against the cushions, guilt creeping across his face, but stubbornness too- the same stubbornness that lived in his blood. Macey reached over and squeezed his hand, while Elias frowned at the floor, as if staring hard enough would make him vanish into it.


    I stepped forward, the weight of my presence pulling every gaze in the room to me. My mates


    closed in around me like a wall, silent but solid, and for a moment, the noise softened into


    silence.


    Reina froze mid–step, her chest/heaving, her hands still clenched. Her eyes found mine, wide and wet, and the storm in her face flickered.


    “We’re here now,” I said softly, my hand resting instinctively on my bump. “He’s safe. We’re all safe.”


    But in the air between us, the tension still hummed like a live wire.


    Reina’s head snapped toward me, her pacing halting mid–step. Her features were etched with raw fear, her hands trembling even as she balled them into fists..


    “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t care if


    you’re the Goddess of the Underworld or not, I cannot–will not–allow my son to just disappear like that! Do you understand me? I already lost him once. I won’t survive it again.”


    The air in the room went taut, every heartbeat stretching thin between us. My mates stiffened at my sides, ready to step in and defend me if this turned ugly. But I moved before they could. Slowly, carefully, I crossed the room and reached for her. Her shoulders were rigid, her breath sharp, but I wrapped my arms around her anyway, holding her as she tried to resist, until finally she sagged against me, shaking.


    “I’m so sorry,” I whispered against her hair. “I can’t begin to understand how scared you must have been. What that felt like for you.”


    Her breath hitched, the fight bleeding out of her as she clutched at the back of my dress. For <i>a </i>long moment, we stayed like that, two mothers bound by the same boy, fear and love burning in our chests in equal measure.


    When her trembling eased, I leaned back just enough to meet her eyes. “I know that he should havee and told you. And in an ideal world, he would have. But Reina, I need you to understand something. Your son is not fragile. He’s not vulnerable. He’s no longer prey in this


    world.”


    Reina blinked at me, caught between disbelief and the truth she had already seen.


    And then, from the side, Arztec snorted. “She’s right.” He tugged his shirt up, revealing an ugly bruise that spread across his ribs, already purpling deep. He grinned, teeth shing. “Yeah, he’s a beast. Nearly knocked the wind out of me.”


    Reina’s eyes widened, her mouth parting, and Elliot squirmed on the couch, his ears pink. The room shifted then–tension breaking, the fear still there but softened by the reality staring us all in the face.


    Her son wasn’t lost anymore. He wasn’t a shadow in the dark. He was power. He was family. He was alive.