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Comrade 106

Comrade 106

Eva’s was asleep, but her body tensed and turned restlessly against the covers. A cold sweat covered her forehead, and her hands were clenched tightly around the blanket.

In her dream, she stood in a vast, open field. The sky was a dull gray, and the wind carried whispers she couldn’t quite understand. Before her stood two boys—both around the age of ten. Both her sons. Both hers, yet so different.

One had silver eyes, burning bright with fierce pride. A golden crown rested on his head. He stood tall, regal, confident, just like Max. His presence warmed her like sunlight.

The other boy had dark hair, like shadows wrapping around him. His eyes glowed crimson, and in his hand, he held a dagger. Not threateningly, but as if it was simply part of who he was. His presence was cold, heavy. And yet, his eyes looked sad—like he already knew what the world thought of him.

Eva’s breath caught in her throat.

“My boys…” she whispered in the dream, her heart aching as she reached for them.

Then she heard a voice. Soft, distant, yet filled with the weight of destiny.

Danielle.

“You will choose… but only one will stay.”

The words echoed like thunder across the field. Eva looked around frantically, shaking her head.

“No,” she said. “No, I won’t choose. I love them both.”

But the world around her began to shift. The ground cracked, splitting the two boys apart. The crowned son stood on one side, the daggered son on the other. The distance between them grew until Eva could no longer reach either of them.

“I won’t choose!” she cried, running forward.

But no matter how fast she moved, they drifted farther away. Danielle’s voice came again, colder now.

“You must. One will rise. One will fall. This is the cost of power.”

Eva screamed.

She jolted awake in her bed, gasping for air. Her hands flew to her belly, cradling it protectively as her heart pounded in her chest. Sweat soaked her hair and gown. Her lips trembled.

“No…” she whispered. “I will not be like you!”

The door burst open. Tiana rushed in, her eyes wide with panic. “Eva? What happened?”

Eva couldn’t speak for a moment. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to calm her breathing. Tiana sat beside her, brushing the hair from her face gently.

“It was a vision,” Eva said, her voice hoarse. “They were both there. My sons. One had a crown, and the other… a dagger. Danielle was there. She said I had to choose.”

Tiana frowned, gripping Eva’s hand tightly. “It was just a dream. You’re tired, overwhelmed—”

“No.” Eva shook her head, voice rising. “It wasn’t just a dream. It felt real. I saw their faces, Tiana. I saw what they could become. One strong. One dangerous. One loved… and one feared.”

Tiana’s heart ached watching her sister like this. “Eva, listen to me. You are not our mother. You are nothing like Danielle.”

“She chose one of us!” Eva shouted, sitting up straighter. “She chose me, and she made you suffer for it. She let love turn into power. She let fear make her destroy everything!”

“And you already aren’t like her,” Tiana said softly, tears filling her eyes. “You love too hard to ever destroy them. You would die before choosing between them.”

Eva’s face crumbled. “But what if I have to, Tiana? What if the vision was a warning? What if one of them is meant to destroy the other?”

“Then we stop it,” Tiana said firmly. “Visions aren’t promises, Eva—they’re possibilities. And you’ve already changed so much. You’ve turned pain into power. You’ve built a home, a pack, a future.”

Eva placed her hands back on her belly, feeling for movement. The wolf child kicked again, strong and sure. The other remained quiet. A soft pressure, nothing more.

“I don’t know how to love one without hurting the other,” Eva whispered.

“Then love them both equally,” Tiana said, placing her hand over Eva’s. “Love them like you always have—with everything you are. No crown. No dagger. Just a mother’s heart.”

Eva leaned into her sister, letting herself cry. Letting herself feel everything she’d been holding in—fear, guilt, love, hope. Tiana held her close, just like she used to when they were girls.

Comrade

Comrade

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Comrade Summary & Review: Comrade

Princess Evangeline of Morwyn sat in the quiet waiting room of the royal physician’s office, her mind a whirlwind of fear and fragile hope. The grand palace, bathed in soft afternoon light, felt both like a home and a cage. She had been married to Crown Prince Sebastian of Valdris for three years, but their union was nothing more than a political arrangement—an alliance forged by their fathers to secure peace between their lands.

From the very beginning, Sebastian made it clear that his marriage to Evangeline was purely out of duty, not affection. They slept in separate chambers, exchanged only polite words in public, and maintained a cold civility that masked the emptiness beneath. Evangeline had once dreamed that time might change things, that she might earn his heart, but years of distance had buried that hope deep inside her.

Recently, however, her body had begun to change. She felt nauseated in the mornings, dizzy, and uncommonly tired. These signs, though subtle, stirred a small flame of longing within her—a desperate wish that she might finally be carrying his child. Perhaps, she thought, a baby could soften Sebastian’s heart and give meaning to their lifeless marriage.

When the physician, Master Aldrich, appeared at the doorway, his kind smile gave her both comfort and dread. He led her into his study, a cozy room filled with the scent of herbs, the warmth of a crackling fire, and shelves of ancient medical texts. Evangeline sat nervously as the old man took a sealed parchment from his desk.

With a gentle voice, Master Aldrich delivered the news that would change everything: “Your Highness, I’m delighted to tell you that you are indeed expecting.”

Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her trembling hands broke the royal seal and scanned the words written neatly across the parchment. Pregnant. She was truly with child. Before she could even absorb the shock, Master Aldrich continued, beaming with joy—she was not carrying just one baby, but twins.

The revelation sent a rush of emotion through her—relief, disbelief, joy. Twins! Two heirs for the royal family. The weight of that realization made her dizzy, but it also filled her with warmth and purpose. For the first time in years, she smiled with genuine happiness. Perhaps this was the miracle she needed to mend what had long been broken.

In that moment, she imagined Sebastian’s face lighting up with pride and excitement. She pictured him embracing her, maybe even thanking her. The thought filled her with renewed courage. She thanked Master Aldrich graciously and insisted that she would tell Sebastian the news herself. This moment, she decided, must belong to them alone.

Walking through the grand marble corridors of the palace, Evangeline’s heart felt light for the first time in years. Servants bowed as she passed, but she hardly noticed them—her mind was focused only on Sebastian and the life growing inside her. She wanted to see him, to share the joy, to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could still bloom between them.

As she approached the door of Sebastian’s private study, her steps quickened. She called out softly, “Sebastian! My lord, I have the most wonderful news to—”

But her voice faltered.

Through the half-open door, Evangeline froze at the sight before her. Her husband stood with Lady Cordelia Ashworth, daughter of the Duke of Greymont, wrapped in his arms. The woman’s fiery red hair cascaded over Sebastian’s shoulders as he held her close. Evangeline’s heart stopped when she saw him tilt Cordelia’s chin upward and press his lips to hers—a tender, passionate kiss filled with the warmth and love she had begged the heavens for all these years.

It was everything she had ever wanted—and it wasn’t hers.

For a long, unbearable second, Evangeline could only stare. The parchment with her pregnancy confirmation still trembled in her hand. Then, in a broken whisper, she said his name: “Sebastian…”

The Crown Prince turned sharply, surprise flashing across his features before being quickly masked by his usual calm. Cordelia paled and stepped back, though Sebastian’s arm lingered protectively around her waist.

“Evangeline,” he said evenly, as though she were a stranger interrupting him, “what brings you here?”

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to stand tall, even as tears burned behind her eyes. “I… I live here,” she managed, her voice quivering. “I’m your wife.”

Sebastian’s cold gaze didn’t soften. “Is there something you need?” he asked, the same way he might address a court official.

Something inside Evangeline broke. Just minutes ago, she had been radiant with hope, ready to tell him that she carried his children—the future of his line. But now, staring at the indifference in his eyes and the woman in his arms, she realized the truth she had avoided for too long.

He would never love her. Not even their unborn children could change that.

A calmness settled over her—a cold, regal resolve that masked the chaos in her chest. Straightening her shoulders, Evangeline met his gaze with all the dignity her title demanded.

“Yes, my lord,” she said clearly. “There is something I need.”

Sebastian raised a brow, perhaps expecting her to plead, to cry, to beg for an explanation. Instead, she spoke words that shattered the silence of the study.

“I want an annulment.”

Both Sebastian and Cordelia froze. The shock in their eyes was almost satisfying. Cordelia gasped aloud, pressing a hand to her mouth, while Sebastian’s expression turned dark and unreadable.

“What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Evangeline’s chin lifted higher. Her hands no longer trembled. “You heard me perfectly,” she said. “I want our marriage annulled.”

In that instant, the timid princess who had once waited for scraps of affection was gone. What remained was a woman who had found her strength—not through her husband’s love, but through the pain he had caused.

Inside, she knew she carried the next heirs of the throne—his heirs—but she would not allow that to bind her to a man who treated her like a political pawn. She would raise her children with dignity, even if she had to walk away from the palace to do it.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the crackle of the fireplace and the unspoken consequences of her declaration. But Evangeline didn’t wait for a reply. Gathering her skirts, she turned toward the door, her heart broken yet unburdened.

Her steps echoed through the marble halls as she walked away from the man who had never seen her—and toward the freedom she was finally claiming for herself.

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