Calvin’s POV
I remembered it as clear as day; their scent. Though they were too young to have developed their own unique scent, especially with no wolf, I could tell their presence from a mile away.
Soft, warm, pure. A delicate blend of milk, the gentle sweetness of talcum powder, and that inexplicable, almost heavenly aroma that only babies carried-the scent of innocence itself.
It tugged at something deep inside me, something primal. They were close by.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, allowing my senses to fully absorb it, to let it guide me. I had memorized this scent from the very moment I had discovered their existence. No matter where they were, I would always find them.
Astor. Arabella.
Selene, please let them be safe. Please don’t let them be in the same room as Rmonica or Orion.
I took another deep breath, following the softest traces of their scent, weaving through the corridors with careful, calculated steps. The palace was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant chirp of crickets outside and the occasional rustling of fabric from the heavy curtains lining the walls.
And then-I found it.
A door.
The faintest trace of their scent pooled around it, stronger than anywhere else in the palace. This was it.
The moment I reached the door, I hesitated.
Shifting back into my human form, I pressed my back against the cold wall, my heart pounding so hard I was afraid it might betray me.
I took a slow, deep breath, willing my body to stay calm. I couldn’t afford mistakes. Not now.
Bracing myself, I leaned in and pressed my ear against the wooden surface, straining to catch any sound from inside.
Silence.
No footsteps. No rustling. No voices.
Still, I wasn’t about to let my guard down.
My fingers curled around the handle, careful not to make a sound as I began to push.
The door barely moved, the hinges groaning softly at the shift in weight. I froze instantly, holding my breath.
Seconds passed.
No movement from inside.
Swallowing hard, I resumed, prying the door open little by little, inch by painstaking inch.
A sliver of moonlight streamed through the widening gap, illuminating the room just enough for me to take a peek inside.
And what I saw made my breath hitch.
The cradle sat in the center of the room, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming in through the arched window.
And inside-
Astor and Arabella.
Sleeping peacefully, their tiny chests rising and falling in perfect unison. Arabella’s tiny hand rested on her brother’s chest, as if instinctively comforting him even in sleep.
A shaky breath left me. Relief, love, overwhelming emotion all tangled into one as I took a step inside.
My babies.
They were here. Safe.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, my heart swelled with something other than guilt, anger, or grief.
I quickly grabbed a soft blanket from a nearby table and wrapped it around myself, using it as makeshift clothing before quietly making my way to the cradle.
Kneeling beside it, I drank in the sight of them. Their soft, round cheeks, their delicate features-so small, so fragile.
Arabella stirred slightly, making a tiny cooing noise before settling back into sleep.
I bit my lip, trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to gather them both into my arms and never let go.
I had lost so much time.
I missed their first words. Their first steps. Their first everything.
And it was my fault.
A tear slipped down my cheek as I reached forward, my fingers gently grazing Arabella’s tiny hand.
I had failed them. Failed their mother.
But I would make it right. I swore it.
Just as I steeled my resolve, the worst possible thing happened.
The door creaked open.
I froze.
Shit.
With no time to think, I quickly ducked behind the door just as it fully swung open.
Soft footsteps padded into the room.
Through the small gap, I saw a figure-Rmonica.
She approached the cradle, sighing tiredly as she gazed down at the twins.
My heartbeat slammed against my ribs as I tried to think, to act. I needed to move. Now.
As soon as her back turned, I scanned the room frantically for a place to hide.
Then I saw it.
A small bed in the corner.
My stomach twisted. That meant Rmonica had been sleeping here.
She wasn’t just checking on them-she was staying with them.
This was worse than I thought.
I moved fast, slipping under the bed and pressing myself against the floor, trying to still my breathing.
Rmonica sat on the mattress above me, exhaling heavily.
I listened intently, every muscle in my body locked with tension.
The bed creaked as she shifted.
Then-her voice.
“Ugh, this nausea is unbearable…” she muttered to herself.
I heard the clink of a glass, the quiet gulping of water. She set it down with a soft thud.
Silence stretched between us.
She wasn’t sleeping.
Her breathing was slow but restless, as if her mind was elsewhere, thoughts swirling.
Shit.
If she didn’t fall asleep soon, I was screwed.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay still.
What the hell was I supposed to do now?