Chapter 57 : Madalynn‘s Son

Maeve- The Persephone

I climbed the stairs to the upper deck, wrapping a loosely woven shawl over my shoulders as I stepped into the light of the moon. Una and her people had supplied us aplenty, ensuring we had food, tools, and clothing for our journey.

Our journey through the Southern Pass.

I was thankful to have more feminine clothing to choose from now, soft silks and flowing fabrics that I favored over the tight britches and poofy, oversized shirts worn by the crew.

But Troy was back in his usual garb, the white of his shirt glistening in the moonlight reflecting off the water. He was sitting against a crate, his head bent over a large sketchbook and a pencil in his hand. He looked up as I approached, a soft smile touching his lips. “I thought you were asleep?” he said as I moved in on him.

“I wasn’t tired,” I said honestly, sitting down next to him and looking out over the deck. The sails were tied in place, wrapped snuggling around the masts as the engines purred beneath us. The Persephone was moving as silent as a ghost through the water, too far south to be picked up on the radars of other ships in the Isles of Denali to the north. We were safe. For now.

I pulled my shawl tighter, slightly chilled by the soft breeze. It had been warm in our room, but the side of the bed where I expected Troy to be sleeping was cold to the touch when I woke from a restless half-slumber. We hadn’t had a single private moment together in the last twenty-four hours. Myla, Pete, and I had reached the beach camp just as the skiffs were coming back to pick up the last of the tents. Troy was already on board the Persephone, pouring over maps on the main deck with Keaton by his side, the two of them trapped in a long, drawn-out conversation about the plan, whatever that would be.

Thad hoped he’d at least come to bed with me once the Persephone breached the southern channel and we began to rock in open water. But he wasn’t there when! woke up

I bit my lip as I sat beside him, a question weighing heavily on my mind.

“Did Una tell you?” I breathed, nerves tightening my throat as I spoke.

“That you’re pregnant?” he replied, his voice steady and calm. “Yes, she… she did.” He was silent for the space of a breath, looking over at me with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Troy!” I exclaimed, unable to stop myself. I had had a nagging, overwhelming sense that he would be upset, maybe even angry at the news. He looked shocked though, setting his sketchbook down and taking my hand, knitting his fingers in mine.

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

“Because I know… I know this wasn’t what you wanted to happen!”

He gaped at me, his brows knitting into a confused frown. “Maeve-”

“You were never my breeder!”

“Well, uh. Obviously, I was.” He gave me a sly smile, rubbing the palm of my hand with his thumb. “We weren’t doing much to… not get pregnant.”

I swallowed, surprised by his reaction. I remembered our conversation during our lakeside dinner in Dianny, where the strange powers of the valley seemed to pull us together, making us less reserved with our words. Four boys? He had repeated. His eyes had been full of happiness.

“It’s twins,” I said weakly, hoping I was interpreting his reaction to my pregnancy correctly.

“Oh, Goddess. What are we going to do?!” he laughed, eyes twinkling in the moonlight

“Are you happy?” | asked.

“I’m nervous, Maeve. If I’m being honest.” He swallowed, looking suddenly serious. “They technically wouldn’t be… mine. That’s how this works.”

“No!” I gripped his hand. “No. That was different-”

“Are you sure? These kids are the heirs to Drogomor. Even if Aaron had actually

heen your breeder-”

“Drogomor is gone.”

“Maeve, I’m nothing. I tricked you, remember?”

“What do you mean you‘re nothing?”

He pulled his knees into his chest, letting go of my hand as he wrapped his arms around his legs.

“I didn’t have parents growing up, remember?” He paused, pursing his lips.

“What does that have to do with–”

“It would be better for them to be raised without me. I don’t know how to be a dad.” His words sliced through the air, and my worst fear seemed to be coming true. He didn’t want this

“Troy, 1-” I felt like I was going to cry.

“It’s not that I don’t want them. I do. I just… they deserve more than I can give them. What am I, Maeve? An orphan, a beach rat, a f*cking pirate. Some father, right-”

“Troy, please!” The emotion in my voice was too loud, too harsh to hide.copy right hot novel pub