154

154

Ian’s POV

It had been a long day. The issues of the past few weeks sat heavy on my shoulders, and I knew that tonight was meant to be a relieve—a moment of quiet after the storm that had been wearing us all down. Lyanna and Mike were coming over for dinner, and while I was looking forward to their company, a part of me couldn’t shake the sense of unease that had been lingering ever since the attack on the realm.

I glanced over at Sophia, who was busy setting the table, her movements slow and deliberate. She was recovering, but the toll everything had taken on her—on us—was evident in her eyes. There was a shadow there, a constant reminder that our world was not safe. Not for us, and certainly not for her or our unborn child.

“How are you feeling?” I asked softly, moving to stand beside her as she adjusted the silverware.

She glanced up at me, her lips pulling into a small, tired smile. “Better. Just tired.”

I reached out, placing my hand gently on her lower back. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can take care of the table.”

Sophia shook her head, her expression softening. “I need to keep busy. If I sit still for too long, I’ll start thinking again.”

I understood that feeling all too well. The silence, the stillness—it left too much room for thoughts to creep in. For worries to take over.

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang, and I gave Sophia a quick squeeze on the shoulder before heading to answer it. I opened the door to find Lyanna and Mike standing on the porch, both looking slightly more relaxed than the last time I’d seen them, though the tension was still there, buried just beneath the surface.

“Ian,” Lyanna greeted, offering me a tight smile as she stepped inside. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” I replied, pulling her into a brief hug before nodding at Mike, who clapped me on the back in his usual friendly way.

“Smells good in here,” Mike said, sniffing the air as he stepped inside. “Did you actually cook, or did you cheat and order in?”

I chuckled, closing the door behind them. “Sophia did most of the work. I’m just here for moral support.”

“Smart man,” Lyanna said with a wink as she followed me into the living room, where Sophia was already greeting them.

The atmosphere was lighter, but only just. There was a shared understanding between all of us—an unspoken agreement that while tonight was meant to be a calm evening, none of us could fully relax. Not with everything that had happened, and certainly not with the danger that still lingered in the air. We all needed to be alert at all times.

“How’s everything going in the realm?” Sophia asked as we all sat down at the dining table, her voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

Lyanna exchanged a glance with Mike before answering. “The renovations are going well, but there’s still a lot of unrest. The attack left more damage than we initially thought. Not just physical, but… well, you know how it is.”

I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. The realm had been shaken to its core, and while buildings could be repaired, trust and security were much harder to rebuild.

“We’ll get through it,” I said, more to reassure myself than anyone else. “We always do.”

There was a murmur of agreement around the table, though no one sounded entirely convinced. It was hard to be certain of anything these days. But I refused to let that show—not tonight, not when we all needed this moment of peace.

As the conversation continued, the tension in the room began to ease, little by little. We talked about mundane things—Mike’s travels, Lyanna’s latest spell experiments, even the state of human politics, which had always been a source of amusement for vampires. It was almost normal, almost like the old days when we could gather without the weight of the world pressing down on us.

But there was always something lurking beneath the surface. I could see it in the way Sophia’s hand lingered on her stomach when she thought no one was looking, in the way Mike’s smile never quite reached his eyes, in the way Lyanna’s gaze flickered toward the window every few minutes, as if expecting something—or someone—to appear. We were all worried and alert.

When dinner was over, we moved to the living room, where the conversation continued over glasses of wine. Well, for everyone except Sophia. She had politely declined, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach again, and I felt a surge of protectiveness rise in me. I still hadn’t fully processed the fact that we were going to be parents. That amidst all the chaos, a life was growing inside her—our child. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“You’ve been quiet,” Lyanna said, her voice cutting through my thoughts. She was watching me closely, her eyes sharp despite her relaxed posture. “What’s on your mind, Ian?”

I took a moment before answering, swirling the wine in my glass. “Just thinking about everything. The realm, the attacks, the council… everything feels so precarious right now.”

Lyanna nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. “It is. But you’ve faced worse.”

“Have I?” I asked, my tone more bitter than I intended. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“You have,” Mike said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re still here, aren’t you? Still fighting.”

I sighed, setting my glass down. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting like this. Not with Sophia and the baby. It’s different now.”

The room fell into a brief silence, and I saw the way Sophia’s expression tightened at the mention of the baby. I hadn’t meant to bring it up, but it was always there, hanging over us like a storm cloud waiting to drop.

“We’ll protect them,” Lyanna said quietly, her voice firm. “Whatever happens, we’ll protect them.”

I appreciated her words, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wouldn’t be enough. How could we protect Sophia—our baby—when the world itself was crumbling around us?

As if sensing my thoughts, Sophia reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. I looked at her, and for a moment, the weight on my shoulders lessened. She was strong—stronger than I sometimes gave her credit for. And as long as we were together, I knew I would keep fighting. For her, for our child, for all of us.

Mike cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, Ian, about the realm… What’s the next step? You have any plans for dealing with the unrest?”

I leaned back, rubbing a hand over my face. “Honestly? I don’t know. The council is still scattered, and with Aldric’s body being found, it’s hard to know who we can trust.”

Lyanna’s expression darkened at the mention of Aldric. “There’s something wrong, Ian. Something bigger than we’re seeing.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “But until we know what that is, all we can do is stay vigilant.”

Mike nodded, though his expression was grim. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

It was the same phrase I had said earlier, but coming from Mike, it felt different. He had a way of making even the most dire situations feel manageable, and for that, I was grateful.

The rest of the evening passed in relative calm. We laughed, we talked, we tried to pretend that everything was normal. But as Lyanna and Mike eventually said their goodbyes and headed home, the weight of the world settled back on my shoulders.

Sophia and I sat in silence for a while after they left, the quiet of the house almost deafening. I glanced at her, and she gave me a small smile, though I could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

“We’ll be okay,” she said softly, as if reading my thoughts.

I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I believed it. But for her—for our child—I would keep trying.

Because that’s all we could do now. Keep trying, keep fighting, and hope that one day, we could finally have the peace we so desperately needed.