CHAPTER 106: THE TEARS OF A MOTHER

"Lower your eyes before I poke them out," Lucian’s voice cut through the quiet room.

I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh when I saw him glaring at Auren, who hadn’t even realized he was gazing at me.

"I’m just grateful she’s back," Auren said awkwardly, finally stepping away. "That’s all."

I smiled faintly. "Thank you, Auren... your feathers were really beautiful."

His eyes lit up instantly. "Really? I made sure to send the brightest ones I had."

But before I could reply, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

It swung open almost immediately.

"Out of the way—"

Dr. Darian rushed in, coat slightly disheveled, his expression already focused and tense. The warmth in the room shifted the moment he arrived.

By then, I had already been guided back onto the bed. The strength I’d forced myself to hold onto earlier was fading fast, draining from my limbs like water slipping through my fingers.

My fingers trembled against the sheets.

The world felt distant.

Darian’s eyes sharpened the moment he took one look at me. "My lady," he said quickly, moving to my side, "tell me exactly what you’re feeling."

I tried to answer but even my voice... felt too heavy to lift.

Darian’s hands moved gently but quickly as he checked my pulse, my temperature, the strange faint glow under my skin that refused to settle.

His brows drew closer together with every second.

Lucian stood at my side, silent, his fingers wrapped tightly around mine as if he could hold me here by force alone.

Auren hovered by the door, eyes sharp and worried.

Darian finally stilled.

The quiet that followed was unbearable.

"My lady..." His voice was low and seemed hesitant.

Lucian straightened instantly. "Say it."

Darian hesitated for the briefest moment.

Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze.

"The life inside you..." he began, swallowing thickly, "is no longer there."

The room seemed to tilt.

"She was telling the truth..." I whispered, the words scraping out of my throat. "I killed my baby... just by killing myself..."

Lucian stiffened beside me.

"No," he said immediately, his voice breaking. "No, don’t say it like that—"

"But it’s true," I murmured, staring at the ceiling as if it might fall on me. "I chose to die... and something else died with me."

The hollow in my chest finally had a name.

My fingers curled weakly into the sheets, "What kind of mother does that make me?" I whispered.

Lucian leaned over me, his hands trembling as he cupped my face.

"A mother who didn’t know," he said hoarsely. "A mother who was trapped. A mother who was desperate until she broke."

His forehead pressed against mine, "That doesn’t make you heartless," he added quietly. "It means you were pushed past what anyone... anything could endure."

I closed my eyes, wishing for tears that wouldn’t come.

"But it doesn’t bring them back," I whispered.

Darian spoke then, his voice gentle but unforgiving in its truth.

"My lady... your body lives. Your core is wounded... but healing."

He paused, swallowing. "What was lost... cannot be restored."

The words settled over me like ash.

Lucian’s grip tightened around my hand.

"I swear..." My voice barely made it past my throat. "I didn’t know I was carrying a life... I swear, Lucian. If I had known there was another flame inside me, I would never have chosen that path. Never."

My body shook beneath his hold, not from cold, not from weakness, but from a grief that had nowhere to go.

"I would’ve survived. I would’ve endured anything," I whispered. "I would’ve endured her. The pain. The maze. Everything... if it meant keeping them safe."

Lucian leaned closer, his forehead brushing mine.

"I know," he said quietly. "And that’s why this isn’t your sin. It’s hers."

My fingers curled around his, desperate.

"But it’s still gone," I breathed.

"Yes," he admitted softly. "It is."

The ache in my chest deepened.

"Darian..." My head lifted suddenly, eyes locking onto his. "What if... what if the baby is like me? What if they can be reborn too?"

The room fell into deep silence.

I knew how foolish it sounded the moment the words left my mouth, but this whole world was already madness. Phoenixes, soul-binding, possession, rebirth, nothing here followed the rules I once believed in. So why couldn’t hope be just as unreasonable?

Darian inhaled carefully before answering, as if afraid his words might fracture me further.

"I’m sorry, my lady," he said softly. "But an unborn phoenix does not return the way a fully-formed soul does. Rebirth requires a core... a flame that has already awakened. Your child’s fire had only just begun."

The words struck deeper than any blade.

"So that means..." My fingers curled into the sheets.

Darian lowered his eyes.

"It means the flame faded before it could take shape."

I sat there, staring at nothing.

I pulled my hand from Lucian and searched for something else to hold onto, as if even his warmth wasn’t enough to keep me from falling apart now. My chest hurt in a way I had never felt before. Not like pain. Not like injury. But like something had been ripped out of me and the hollow it left behind was screaming.

"I..." My lips parted, but no sound came.

My throat burned.

I pressed a hand to my chest as if I could stop the ache from leaking out of me, but instead, something else broke through.

A strange pressure built behind my eyes.

At first, I thought it was just dizziness. Then it grew heavier... sharper... until my vision trembled and my breath hitched. I squeezed my eyes shut, confused, almost frightened.

Warmth gathered where there had only ever been emptiness.

And then... something slipped free.

A single tear fell from the corner of my eye, trailing down my cheek like it didn’t belong there.

I froze.

My hand lifted slowly, trembling as my finger brushed the wetness on my skin.

Liquid... Tears.

A sob shuddered out of my chest before I could stop it.

For the first time since I arrived in this world... I could cry.

The tears came harder after that, spilling down unchecked as everything I had been holding back for so long finally broke loose. Grief. Fear. Guilt. Love. Regret. All of it crashed through me at once, too heavy to carry, too painful to keep inside.

My shoulders shook as the sound broke apart in my throat, "I—I didn’t know..." I whispered, the words barely holding together.

"I didn’t know... there was someone else... inside me..."

My fingers tightened into the sheets as another sob ripped free.

"I’m so sorry..." my voice shattered completely. "I’m... so... sorry..."