Her expression softened, as though she’d expected the question. “They say it’s rare, and only the true mates can reproduce. Roman says the bond makes things different. When a vampire finds his mate, it changes them. He said it makes their blood… align.”
“Align,” I repeated, almost scoffing, but the warmth in her gaze made it hard to hold onto scepticism.
She nodded. “It doesn’t erase the risks. My pregnancy wasn’t easy. Roman nearly lost his mind trying to keep me safe, always by my side assuring that I wasn’t overdoing it. But here he is.” She leaned closer, brushing a finger over her son’s brow. “Proof that it’s possible.”
I swallowed hard. The baby shifted in my arms, and a strange ache bloomed in my chest.
“You don’t seem scared,” I said. “Of all this. Of him. Of… them.”
Layla gave a small smile, almost wistful. “At first? I was terrified. Roman was this… storm I couldn’t control. He still is. But I realized he wasn’t my prison. He was my shield. Everything else out there, the demons, the wars, the threats, they were the cage. Roman was the key that broke it.”
Her words settled heavy in me, stirring something I didn’t want to name. Because wasn’t that what Lucien had said? That his bite, his bond, was protection. Safety, and that I was his.
I looked down at the baby again, his face soft and perfect as he looked around, and I couldn’t stop the thought that crept in, unwelcome and wild. If what Layla said was true, what did it mean for me and Lucien? For what we were already bound into?
My fingers itched, hovering just above the baby’s blanket, the urge to touch him clashing with the fear that I didn’t belong in this picture. But Layla noticed, of course she did, and shifted the tiny bundle closer, encouraging without words.
“He knows,” she murmured, her voice as soft as the baby’s breath. “Babies can sense things. When you are calm, or if you are fearful. He knows when he’s safe. He knows when he’s wanted.”
I swallowed hard, as I thought of being wanted. That word cut through me. I hadn’t been wanted in so long, if ever, that the thought of it lodged in my throat like a jagged stone. Lucien’s eyes flashed in my mind, the way they burned when he looked at me, when he kissed me, when he told me I was his. The pull between us was undeniable, and yet… terrifying.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” I whispered before I even realized the words had left my mouth.
Layla’s head tilted, her gaze steady, kind but sharp enough to cut through my excuses. “Do what?”
“Trust it. Trust in him. Trust… this.” My hand gestured faintly around the room, toward everything that symbolized permanence and a future I couldn’t imagine for myself.
Layla was quiet for a moment, taking her son from my arms, she started rocking her son gently as his tiny fist curled against her chest. “You don’t have to trust it all at once,” she said finally.“You just have to take one step. Then another. And maybe one day you’ll look back and realize he never let you fall.”
Her words wrapped around me, sinking under my skin. One step. That I could maybe manage.
But deep down, I already knew that Lucien wasn’t going to let me run forever. And worse, a part of me wasn’t sure I wanted to. Layla’s words hung in the quiet nursery, the baby’s soft cooing the only sound between us for a moment. I traced the curve of his tiny cheek with my eyes, the fragility of him so at odds with the world I knew existed just outside these walls.
“How do you do it?” I asked finally, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. “How do you trust him when he’s… what he is? When you know he could kill with a look, when you know there are parts of him, you’ll never control?”
Layla’s lips curved, not in humour, but in understanding. She shifted the baby so she could look at me fully. “Because he doesn’t ask me to control him. He doesn’t pretend to be anything but what he is. Yes, he might be a predator, but he is also a protector. A man who would level the world for me if I asked.” Her eyes softened, the weight of her bond with Roman shining in the way her voice went quiet. “And because every time I doubted, every time I pushed, he proved it. Not with words, but with actions. Over and over again.”
Her words pulled at something raw inside me. Lucien hadn’t asked for my trust, he’d taken it, demanded it, forced it into existence with every touch, every vow, every searing kiss. And as much as I wanted to hate him for it, my chest ached with something far more dangerous, it ached with need.
I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can give him that. Not after…” My voice trailed off, the memories clawing at the edgesof my mind. The chains, the hands pawing at me. The voices that promised I was nothing more than a body to be sold.
Layla reached out, her free hand brushing mine, grounding me. “That’s not something you owe him overnight. Trust isn’t a gift, Sorcha. It’s a choice. And you get to make it every day, in your own time.” She paused, her gaze flicking to the baby in her arms, then back to me. “But I’ll tell you this, Lucien may be many things, but careless isn’t one of them. If he’s claimed you, then you’re safe. Even from yourself.”
The last words sent a shiver through me, because wasn’t that exactly what I feared? That I was safe with him. That no matter how much I fought it, no matter how many times I told myself I didn’t believe in vampires or bonds or destiny, some part of me already knew I was his.
The baby stirred, fussing softly, and Layla rocked him gently. Watching her, watching how natural she seemed despite the madness of her world, I felt an ache that went bone deep. Could I ever have that? A family? A place where I wasn’t running, wasn’t fighting, wasn’t just surviving?
The thought was terrifying. And yet, as much as I wanted to deny it, it was also the first time in years I’d felt the faintest flicker of hope. The baby whimpered, his little fists clenching, and before Layla could adjust, the nursery door swung open. Roman filled the frame, tall and unyielding, his presence hitting like a wall of heat and shadow all at once.
His eyes found Layla instantly. It was like watching gravity shift, the air seemed to bend toward him, and her entire body softened in response. The tension in her shoulders melted, her lips tilted into a smile she hadn’t even realized she was holding back.
Roman crossed the room in two strides, his gaze flicking over her, checking, cataloguing every detail, like even the smallest change in her could start a war. Then he reached for his son, his large hands shockingly gentle as he scooped him out of Layla’s arms.
The transformation was… disarming. This man, this predator I’d only ever heard spoken of, looked down at his son as though the boy was spun from starlight, as though the weight of him was the holiest thing he’d ever carried.
“Still got your mother’s scowl,” Roman murmured, brushing a finger over the baby’s tiny brow. The sound of his voice was soft, almost reverent, and it did something to my chest I couldn’t explain.
Layla’s smile widened, and Roman leaned down to press a kiss against her temple before straightening. The act wasn’t just affection, it showed his protection, his devotion, all tangled into one gesture.
