Chapter 120

**ARIA**

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the gauzy curtains as I slipped from the bed, careful not to wake Austin or Adam. Despite the heaviness in my limbs, I felt a clarity I hadn’t had in days. There were too many unanswered questions. Too many shadows around this Alaric. And if he posed a threat to me, to our children—I needed to know everything.

Rosalie was already awake, of course. She always was. I found her in her quarters, pouring over dried herbs and glass bottles of tinctures. She glanced up, and something in her expression shifted.

"You didn’t sleep well," she said, voice gentle.

I shook my head. "I need to talk to you. About Alaric."

She paused, her fingers stilling over a sprig of lavender. Then she nodded. "Come sit."

I lowered myself onto a cushion beside her, bracing myself.

"Tell me everything you know," I said. "I can’t keep pretending I’m okay when I have no idea what we’re up against."

Rosalie looked at me for a long moment before setting down her tools. "Alaric is old. Older than most vampires still alive today. He was once one of the highest-ranking enforcers in the vampire courts. Ruthless. Brilliant. But he was obsessed with purity. He believed hybrids would destroy the balance of our world."

My chest tightened. "Why haven’t I heard of him before?"

"Because people stopped speaking his name aloud centuries ago," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "He went underground after a series of purges. Quiet but deadly. Those who stood against him disappeared. When the movement against hybrids began gaining traction, he resurfaced. At first in whispers. Then through Caedmon."

I swallowed hard. "And now he’s coming for me. For my babies."

Rosalie looked down at her hands. "It’s possible. He has a way of turning prophecy into an excuse for genocide."

Fear wrapped cold fingers around my spine. But I forced myself to sit straighter.

"You have to promise me something," I said.

She blinked. "Anything."

"If it comes down to me or them... the babies. You protect them. No matter what. Even if it means letting me die."

Her breath caught. "Aria—"

"I’m serious," I said, grasping her hand. "I love Adam and Austin, but I don’t know if they could make that choice. But you? You’ve always been the one who sees the bigger picture. If they’re the key to stopping Alaric, or surviving him—promise me you won’t let your love for me get in the way."

Rosalie’s eyes welled with tears. "You don’t know what you’re asking."

"I do," I whispered. "Because I’d make the same choice if I were you."

She stared at me for a long time before finally nodding, her grip on my hand tightening. "I promise. But I hope it never comes to that."

I exhaled, the tension in my chest easing slightly. For the first time since hearing Alaric’s name, I felt like I could breathe again.

Whatever was coming—we’d be ready. And if I had to give everything to protect my children, then so be it. I had never been stronger. Not as a mate. Not as a hybrid. But as a mother.

They were mine to protect.

And I would fight to my last breath to keep them safe.

**AUSTIN**

Ever since Alaric’s name surfaced, I’ve been in battle mode. Training harder. Thinking sharper. Sleeping less.
A few weeks had passed since Rosalie’s vision, but the threat it carried never loosened its grip on me. Alaric wasn’t just a name anymore. He was a storm on the horizon—one we couldn’t see, but could feel.

Aria’s pregnancy was going well, better than I had hoped. She had more energy now, glowing in that otherworldly way that made her look untouchable. She still tired more easily than usual, but she was no longer confined to the bed. She was back to her teasing self, smiling more, laughing more. That should’ve comforted me. It did. And yet, a small knot of dread nestled behind my ribs refused to unravel.

Every morning, I trained. Sometimes with Adam. Sometimes alone. I needed the repetition, the physical drain, the outlet. I ran simulations. Walked through scenarios. Checked and double-checked our security systems. Had every perimeter mapped in my head. Fares and Alex kept their teams tight, and I trusted them—but trust didn’t quiet my mind.

The community was strong. United. Our people had survived betrayal, attack, and loss. They looked to us for guidance, for strength—and I tried to give them that. But there were moments, when the night was quiet and I lay in bed with Aria curled up beside me, that doubt crept in like smoke under the door.

What if I wasn’t strong enough?

I called Garrett every day. He was steady. Calm. Exactly what I needed. He gave me updates on the pack—construction progress, border rotations, population numbers. Everything was under control.

"They trust you," he told me yesterday. "And I trust you. If you need backup, you say the word. I’ll have deltas at your door by nightfall."

I thanked him, but didn’t ask.

Not yet.

We’d built this community with blood, sweat, and stubborn hope. I wasn’t ready to admit we needed outside help. But I knew the offer was there, and that counted for something.

Today, I walked the border trail again. Alone. I liked to feel the ground under my boots, to smell the pines, to listen for anything that didn’t belong. As I reached the southeast lookout, I stopped and stared into the woods.

Would Alaric come from there? Would he send someone else first? Would he strike where we least expected?

My hands tightened on the railing.

The last time I felt this powerless, Aria was bleeding in my arms.

We’d lost a baby. And that memory had settled into my bones, cold and sharp.

Now she carried not one but two.

The thought of anything happening to them—of losing her, or the babies, or both—kept me awake at night. I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. Not again.

Back at the apartment, Aria was curled up on the couch reading. Her feet were tucked beneath her, her bump visible beneath her sweatshirt. When she looked up at me and smiled, it was like the sun rose just for me.

"Hey," she said. "You okay?"

I nodded, but she saw through it. She always did.

"Just checking the trail," I said. "All’s quiet."

She patted the couch beside her. I sat down, and she leaned against me.

"You don’t have to carry it all, you know."

I pressed a kiss to her hair. "It’s not a burden. It’s love."

She let out a soft sigh. "Still sounds heavy."

"Only when I think about what I’d lose."

She didn’t respond, but her hand found mine and squeezed.

Later that night, I stood on the balcony alone while Adam tucked her in. The stars were sharp above us, the sky endless and black. I closed my eyes and sent a silent promise into that void:

I will protect them. With everything I am. Whatever it takes.

Even if it kills me.