The fire crackled in the corner, but its warmth did little to ease the chill in Eva’s bones. She lay curled on the bed, one hand resting on her swollen belly. Her face was pale, lips pressed into a tight line, eyes closed as she tried to breathe through the pain.
A sudden sharp kick made her gasp.
Her fingers clutched the blanket as her belly shifted. One of the babies had kicked again—hard, like a tiny warrior fighting to get out. It was the same one who always moved, who seemed to demand attention, life, space.
But the other?
Still.
Motionless.
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, and she pressed her lips together to stop a sob. She waited, counted the seconds, hoping for a sign. Anything. But all she felt was silence in her womb. A terrifying, hollow stillness.
The door creaked open, and Max stepped in quietly. He carried a tray with warm soup, but when he saw the look on Eva’s face, he set it aside and rushed to her side.
“Is it the pain again?” he asked gently, sitting down beside her. His hand reached for hers, his eyes full of worry.
She nodded slowly. “One of them kicked,” she whispered, her voice barely there. “Hard. So strong. But the other… I haven’t felt him in hours.”
Max’s face tightened. He reached out and laid his hand over her belly. “They’re fighters,” he said softly. “Just like their mother.”
The healer, an older woman with kind eyes and steady hands, entered next. She didn’t wait for permission. She knelt beside the bed, her hands moving expertly over Eva’s stomach.
“Lie still, Luna,” the healer murmured. “Let me listen.”
Eva held her breath. The room went quiet. Even the fire seemed to hush. The healer’s hands trembled slightly as she pressed closer to the center of Eva’s belly. After a long moment, she sat back, her expression grim.
“What is it?” Max asked, voice sharp now.
The healer looked at Eva first, then Max. “The wolf child is strong,” she said. “Very strong. His energy is clear. But the other… the vampire child… he’s draining her. Feeding from her energy. Taking too much.”
Eva’s breath caught. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach. “No. No, that can’t be. He’s my child too. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
The healer placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t mean to. But he’s different. And the balance between them—it’s breaking. If this continues, you could lose them both. Or worse… yourself.”
“No.” Eva’s voice cracked as the tears came. She turned into Max’s chest, and he caught her, pulling her close, holding her tightly as if he could keep her from falling apart.
“I don’t want to lose either of them,” she whispered, her body shaking with sobs. “I love them both, Max. I chose them. I carried them. How am I supposed to choose between my babies?”
“You don’t have to,” Max said, his voice rough with emotion. He pressed his forehead to hers, his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs wiping away her tears. “Then don’t. You’ve already built an army. Let us protect what’s left.”
Eva looked into his eyes, and for a moment, the fear inside her quieted. Just for a second. Max had always been her anchor, her steady force. But now, even he couldn’t fix what was breaking inside her.
“I feel like I’m losing parts of myself,” she whispered. “First Georgina. Then the bond. Now my body is fighting my own children.”
Max shook his head, gently cupping her face. “You’re not losing anything, Eva. You’re transforming. You’ve been fighting since the day you took the crown. But this… this is a different kind of war. You don’t have to fight it alone.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, the pain still there, but dulled for now by his presence. “They’re so different,” she said softly. “One is all wolf—pure, fiery, fierce. The other… I don’t know. He’s quiet. Like he’s hiding. Watching.”
Max frowned. “He takes after his father.”
Eva’s eyes opened. She didn’t argue.
The thought of Sylvester’s child growing inside her made her stomach twist, not just from sickness but from guilt, from confusion. This child had never asked for his bloodline. He didn’t choose to be born of darkness. And still, she couldn’t shake the fear that he would destroy her from the inside.
“I don’t want to be afraid of him,” she said.
Max nodded. “Then don’t be. Fear is for those who have no love left. And you, Eva… you have more love than any leader I’ve ever known.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
Summary & Review: Comrade
