The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Our child. Our baby. Somehow infected with Daemon's magic through a ritual meant to save Kael's life.
"What does that mean?" I whispered. "What does it mean for the baby?"
"I don't know. This is unprecedented. The child could be fine. Or they could develop complications we can't predict. Or..." Elena trailed off, unable to finish.
Or the baby could become something else entirely. Something neither purely ours nor purely Daemon's. Something caught between two magical legacies, two sources of shadow power, two incompatible origins.
"We'll figure it out," Kael said firmly. "Whatever this means, whatever complications arise, we'll handle them together. The baby is ours, Elara. That hasn't changed."
But I saw doubt in his eyes. Saw him looking at my abdomen not with love and anticipation but with uncertainty and fear.
