“The solar eclipse is coming,” Osman said flatly.
We all stopped in our tracks, turning to him in disbelief. Even Olivia, weak as she was, managed a feeble, “What?”
“Look at the sun.” Osman pointed upward. “It will be here within a week or a few days.”
The news settled upon us with unexpected weight. An eclipse was a bad omen at the best of times, but now—with everything so precariously balanced—it felt like a harbinger of disaster. The air seemed to grow colder, and the shadows around us stretched out like dark fingers.
Malik’s violent wash of anger surged, threatening to drown us all in its destructive waves. His voice shook with a feral growl as he screamed, “The solar eclipse approaches! Its cursed presence weakens all darkness, leaving me vulnerable. I won’t be able to protect you and Olivia!”
“Don’t worry,” I said with a false sense of calm, trying to reassure him while my heart pounded frantically. “We’ll find a way to protect you and get through this together.”
Deep down, I knew the danger ahead, and fear clawed at my insides.
Malik tugged me aside, his face etched with lines of genuine fear. “If only you knew how a solar eclipse affects the darkness. I have no power during it.”
“Malik,” I said, touching his shoulder, trying to infuse confidence into my voice, “Don’t worry. We’ve faced worse than celestial shadows. We’ll face this together.”
Reyna touched Malik’s back, and the surge of power that emanated from her was palpable.
Malik jerked away from her touch.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding to her before turning away.
I frowned, stupefied by their interaction.
Olivia’s form was limp, her face pale and drawn. I tried to make out the words she mumbled, but they slipped away, unintelligible whispers carried off by the wind. Her head lolled to one side, and I adjusted it so she might rest easier.
“Get moving! We need a doctor,” I bellowed to the coachman, who snapped the reins with a sense of purpose. The horses leaped into action, their hooves thundering against the ground, pulling us toward the refuge of Mathias’ house. Behind us, the others mounted their horses in a symphony of leather creaks and animal snorts, ready to escort us back.
The carriage rocked and heaved over the uneven terrain, each jolt sending a silent prayer from my lips that Olivia would hold on just a little longer. The weight of leadership pressed down upon me like the coming eclipse threatened to darken the sky—inescapable, all-consuming. But now was not the time for doubt; whatever lay ahead, we would deal with it.
The gates to Mathias’ estate swung open as if anticipating our frantic return. Dust billowed in our wake, a cloud of unease that choked the air we breathed. As I leaped from the carriage before it even halted, Osman was at my side, his expression grim.
“There was truth in Malik’s words,” he said, voice low but carrying weight. “He will lose his power. All darknesses are vulnerable. We have to get home.”
His words were like a cold hand squeezing my heart. What did that mean for all of us if Malik’s strength weakened during the eclipse? And what if Olivia went into birth during the eclipse?
I raced into the house holding Oliva, the door banging against the wall, echoing through the hallways.
“Lee!” I bellowed, my voice reverberating off the marble. The feel of Olivia in my arms—her warmth, the unsteady rise and fall of her shallow breaths—was all I could focus on.
Lee emerged from the parlor, his face creased with concern. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes darting between Olivia and me.
“Maybe she’s in labor?” Emily’s voice quivered with tension. She hovered by Lee’s side, wringing her hands. “It’s normal to have a baby at eight months. Marcellious’ doctor is here. Let him check her.”
“Please,” I said, my voice raw with worry. Olivia’s breaths came shallow and uneven in my arms.
The doctor stepped into the foyer, his medical bag already open. His gentle hands worked with precision as he examined her. I held my breath, watching every flicker of his expression, searching for reassurance.
“She’s not in labor,” he said, and relief surged through me. “But she needs bed rest. Complete bed rest.”
The order lingered in the air, sounding like a reprieve and a sentence. Olivia needed more than rest; she needed protection, especially now with the eclipse looming and the threats it posed. But for now, bed rest was the immediate prescription, and I would ensure it was enforced—for her sake and the sake of the life she carried.
“Thank you, doctor,” I said, my gaze drifting back to Olivia, whose stillness belied the storm I knew was raging within her. We would weather this storm together, as we had all the others. I would be the light to hold it at bay.
I navigated the narrow hallway to our bedchamber, Olivia’s warmth pressed against me, her fragile form unmoving in my arms. Gently, I laid her down on the bed, the soft mattress molding around her. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, yet her eyes bore into mine, defiant and fiery.
“Roman, I can’t just lie here,” she said, trying to push herself up despite her body’s apparent exhaustion. “I’ll go crazy confined to these four walls.”
