Niva slowly sat up, her breath still uneven. Her hair was a wild halo framing her flushed face.
She reached out, both her hands slightly shaky as they cupped either side of Velor’s face, forcing him to meet her eyes.
There was no fury in them anymore. The fire was gone... replaced by something softer, heavier.
"Velor..." she whispered, pulling his forehead down until it nearly touched hers. "I know you don’t want to tell me what you are really up to... but I need to tell you something. I don’t have a very good feeling about this."
Her words landed like stones.
He said nothing...not a word...as he searched her gaze, his piercing eyes moving back and forth as though he could read the language written there.
Niva didn’t look away. She held him captive in her worry. "Whatever you are trying to do..." she pressed on, her voice shaking, "...it feels wrong, Velor. It feels... wrong."
Still he remained silent. Silent, but staring. Silent, but thinking.
Then, suddenly, Velor pulled her into his arms. His chest rose and fell against her cheek, his embrace strong, almost desperate. His chin brushed the top of her hair as he whispered hoarsely, "You were always different, weren’t you, Niva? Always seeing things others can’t. You are something else entirely."
She squeezed him tighter, her lips pressed against the fabric of his tunic. "So my intuitions were right," she murmured. "You are up to no good."
That earned her a low chuckle, vibrating deep from his chest. "No good, huh? Tell me, wifey..." he leaned back just enough to look into her eyes, his smile edging sharp and dangerous..."what’s the border between good and bad? Who decides? Who draws the line, Niva?"
Her face crumpled slightly, frustration meeting grief. She broke away from his arms, shaking her head. "I don’t know, Velor. I don’t know!"
Her hands pressed to her temples, then dropped as she stepped closer again, placing her palm firmly over his chest, right above the strong, steady thud of his heart.
"But I know one thing," she said firmly, her voice low, trembling but resolute. "When it’s wrong... it feels heavy in here. Doesn’t it?"
Her words struck something in him. For a fleeting moment...just a heartbeat...Velor’s mask cracked. His jaw tightened, his eyes flickered, and his breath hitched.
It almost buckled him.
But then, as though brushing the heaviness off like dust, he chuckled softly again.
His arms closed around her, pulling her back against him. In a swift motion, he flipped her gently, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His breath touched her ear, his voice low, rumbling, almost tender.
"Don’t worry, Niva. I am going to get things back on track this time."
Her body stiffened at the vagueness of his words, but his hold tightened. For the first time in what felt like forever to Niva, her husband’s stance towards her felt firm and protective.
"And right now," he continued, lips brushing her temple, "I can only tell you one thing. When I succeed... when I completely succeed at what I am going to do..."
One of his hands slid carefully over her stomach, resting there with a gentleness that almost contradicted his entire being. He pulled her even closer, his palm warm, his fingers splayed protectively across her belly.
"...there is going to be a living, breathing life growing in here."
His voice softened, cracked just a fraction.
For a heartbeat, her body leaned into him for several passing moments, clinging to the warmth of his promise...making sure she understood it right.
But then, like a spark catching dry wood, something seared her.
She stumbled back as if burned, Velor’s hand slipping from her belly.
Her eyes shone with unshed tears, lips trembling as she stared at him. "Velor..." she whispered, voice breaking, "...what are you saying to me?"
She searched his face desperately, like a drowning woman searching for air. Her chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, her nails curling against her palms.
Velor stood there, still as stone, his gaze unreadable. A faint sheen lingered on his lips...a glistening trace of their fevered clash just moments ago.
Niva’s voice cracked. "Tell me more. Please. I... I need more than just riddles, Velor. Tell me what do you mean? Make your words clear, please. Don’t play with me ! "
His eyes softened for the barest second, his mouth parting as if he might actually say something...something real... something consoling.
But before he could speak, the sound of a throat clearing sliced through the charged silence.
Both turned towards the doorway.
Standing there, framed by the heavy arch of the chamber doors, were Sierra and Marra.
Sierra’s hand rested lazily against the door frame, her eyes sharp with curiosity. Marra lingered just behind her, quieter but no less observant, her delicate fingers gripping the folds of her gown.
The two wives exchanged a brief glance before turning their attention squarely onto Niva’s flushed face... and Velor’s glistening lips.
Sierra’s brow arched, a sly curve tugging at her mouth. "Well, well," she purred, her voice like silk threaded with steel. "Did we interrupt something?"
Marra’s gaze flicked between them, her expression softer but her words no less piercing. "Or...looks like..." she tilted her head slightly, "...we just walked into the middle of something that wasn’t meant for our eyes?"
The silence that followed was too thick for some reason...almost suffocating.
Niva’s hands balled into fists at her sides, her throat working as she swallowed hard, blinking back the sting in her eyes.
She looked as if she wanted to speak but her voice refused her.She could only look at Velor, who was no longer looking at her.
He, however, slowly let a smirk curve his lips again...his default composure sliding back into place.
"Well, ladies," he drawled smoothly, stepping forward just slightly, his posture once again that of the charismatic Alpha. "What a convenient time for you both to appear."