Chapter 89: Magic babies

**~ Cyrius’s POV ~**

My veins were smooth again no longer dry, cracked, or bulging with that unnatural blue. The tightness in my chest had vanished. My body felt alive in a way it never had before. Did the blood do that? Was one sip enough to undo death itself?

I staggered back to the babies, still lying where I’d found them. Their small chests rose and fell gently now. The blue shadows that once stained their skin had disappeared. They were warm, pink, and normal.

But... they didn’t drink blood.

I did. So why were they fine?

Are they not vampires? Is it only me?

A strange feeling curled in my stomach—half fear, half awe. Was I reborn into something different? Not just a wolf anymore. Not just a Crescent heir. I could still feel Gorge, my wolf, snarling in my chest, alive and strong. But now he shared space with something... hungrier.

A vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. Something stronger than any Salvator before me.

Finally, I had the power to take the throne.

But first, I needed to learn to control it—before I marched into a pack and tore through them like a mindless beast. My hands were still trembling with energy when I heard it.

Voices. Footsteps. Heartbeats.

Shit.

I grabbed the babies in my arms, their weight a grounding comfort against the storm in my mind. I bolted, slipping out of the High House with speed I hadn’t possessed before—unnatural speed. But just as I crossed the clearing, I stopped in my tracks.

Hazel. I can’t leave without her. No. I won’t

Not when the first time nearly destroyed her. Not after everything. She didn’t deserve this pain. She never did. Neither of us did.

With her and these children... we could start over. Far away. Somewhere no one would find us. A place untouched by curses, politics, or war. We could be a family. I straightened, jaw tight, heart pulsing with purpose.

I need to go back for her.

But I couldn’t just carry the babies into danger. I turned in circles, trying to find a safe place to leave them. Not the coffin. Too obvious. Someone might see them. But I couldn’t just drop them on the ground—

And then... a soft laugh.

Heather, I spun around. No one was there, but I felt them—still in my arms, their presence unmistakable.

I looked down—and gasped....They were gone. No. Not gone. Invisible.

The boy let out a breathy giggle and Heather’s chuckle echoed faintly in my ears. My eyes widened as they shimmered back into view. The boy smiled... smiled and Heather’s eyes sparkled like they knew exactly what I was thinking.

read my mind? How

the witches

footsteps approaching—the thud of Cayden’s boots, the low grumble

No. Not now.

breath shallow. "Do

shimmered and

them on a velvet chair and placed a finger to my lips. Don’t

sharp-eyed. His head snapped toward the area where I stood. I

Maybe my

something, motioning toward the south wing. Cayden’s brow furrowed... but he

the Blue Moon Pack. My godfather. His stone eyes watched as I

faded,

Now. Hazel.

closed my eyes, calling her scent to memory..the soft warmth of lavender. I followed it like a lifeline. It led me upstairs,

strong. She

hovered over the

And another. The redhead witch.. I clenched my fists at the sound of her Voice, she was the one that damn-davina had mentioned.. I hate witches, those

couldn’t risk barging in. Not with

didn’t know how long they could hold that trick, or even if they understood what they were doing. My entire

held my breath, every muscle in my body tensed, waiting for something...anything-to shift. Then I heard footsteps approaching. I darted behind the

It was her...The witch.

she said softly as she

followed hers. "Gods... after everything, I don’t know what she’ll wake up as. Her mind wouldn’t shut the emotions off... so her body did it for her. It collapsed. It’s how she survives

There was a pause.

her... but maybe love isn’t enough. Not when this house, this war... keeps breaking her

watched them both step out. Watched as

Neither of them had ever

They’d broken her.

I would save her.

and shut it quietly behind me, locking it. My eyes immediately fell on

across the pillow, a few strands tangled across her cheek like careless silk. Her face... peaceful, fragile. She didn’t stir. Not even when I stepped closer. Her chest rose slowly. She was deep in slumber, and I knew she needed it. But

fingertips itching with the urge to touch her. Just a brush. Just to feel the warmth of

brushing a strand of hair away from her temple. "It’s me and you. Forever. I’m

She didn’t flinch, didn’t stir. It was like her

She belonged with me.

back, securing her arms around my neck, using my free hand to adjust her legs against my waist. I couldn’t risk going back through the hall, not

turned to

Moon I’m a

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