Create life.
Like… like…“You mean children?” I ask, my brow furrowing.
“I mean powerful beings,” he corrects me. “But yes, they will come to us in the form of children.” His palmgoes to my belly. “You’ll grow them here. I can’t imagine a greater gift.”
My lips curl down. “You’re saying my having a baby is a better gift than being able to build a cabin with my mind?” I ask, incredulous.
He matches my frown with one of his own.
“You have no idea how unique and beautiful a gift it is that you can bring more Mythos Fae into the world, Alina. We haven’t experienced the birth of a faeling in over two thousand years.” He lifts his hand away from my belly and clasps my nape, pulling me to him. “It’s a miracle.”
“So is creating a cabin in under an hour,” I mutter.
He tilts his head. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear.” There’s a hint of humor in his tone. “Manifestation magic applies to all Mythos Fae. Alphas, Omegas, Betas—everyone can create soulless objects. But only an Omega can birth a new soul.”
My lips part, then close, and then part again. “So you’re saying I’ll be able to create a cabin?”
He chuckles. “Perhaps not at first, but one day, once you’ve honed your abilities, yes. I’ll even teach you when you’re ready, if you’d like.”
I’m gaping again.
Primarily because he’s telling me all of this like it’s just… normal. As though humans become immortal beings with wicked powers every day.
Yet the part he’s in awe of is me having a baby.
I palm my belly.Is it really that big a deal?I wonder.
Then I think about what he said, about how there haven’t been any Mythos Fae faelings—which I assume are fae babies—in over two thousand years.
Except, I might be able to create one.
He’s staring down at my hand with a reverence I can feel, his wings fluttering in the night breeze. “What if I’mnot the Omega that you think I am?” I ask him. “What if…? What if I can’t…?”
The question floats away on a breeze, my heart panging at the prospect of not being able to create a child. It’s a pain unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, like my soul is crying from within.
I could lose my fae,I think.I… I could lose everything.
However, it’s not just the thought of my fae abandoning me that leaves me feeling bereft. It’s the thought of not creating a life.
I… I want this,I realize with a start.I well and trulywantthis.
Not just my fae, but everything we can experience together.
A future. A child. Afamily.
Orcus’s hand cups my cheek, drawing me back to him. “If we can’t produce a faeling, then we move forward as a mate-circle without children.”
He utters the words with ease, but I sense the underlying longing in his tone. Mainly because my own soul is weeping at the prospect of failing. It’s an unacceptable notion, one I don’t want to embrace.
But I have to consider it.
Because there’s a very real possibility that I won’t be able to create a soul.This could all be a fluke.
“If I can’t conceive, then I’m not a real Omega,” I whisper to him. “Right?”
“If you can’t conceive, it’s not because of what you are or what you are not. It’s because fate has not chosen us for that path,” he tells me.
My stomach churns again, some part of me adamantly refusing to accept such a fate.I want this. I want them. I want a family.