Flames of Fury

Magnolia

~5 months after landing in Drow Hollow~

It’s been 5 months to the day since I left the grove, left my family, and my heart back in Shadowmoon. And I’m still here, still stuck in hell, with a growing belly and more appetite than energy. It doesn’t help that Ian has continued his torturous nightmares, but what did help was Griffin’s advice. Ian must like my hair long because after I cut it in Griffin’s apartment, it was cascading down my back every night which was an immediate tell that I was dreaming.

I can handle Ian’s torture, I can handle the beatings and the assault, I can handle him killing me more times than I can count, but at least I know what’s real and what’s not. That’s what saved me.

As time went on, and my belly began to grow, I noticed that Ian didn’t like the fact that I was already pregnant. He didn’t like the visual reminder that I had a life before this, and that I loved someone enough to give them my heart and my body willingly and how in that bond two babies were created. So, in my dreams when my pregnant belly flattened to nothing, I knew it was a dream then too.

I spent some of my days in the earlier months wandering around the hollow thanks to Griffin for leaving my door unlocked so I could sneak out of my room. Sometimes I’d go hang out with Ember in the infirmary, I never get tired of listening to the twins’ heartbeats on the doppler. Other times I would travel through the shadows undetected in search of an exit that we could use to escape. There has to be some way for them to get in and out of here if for nothing more than fresh oxygen. I’m sure there’s an exit, but wherever it is it’s hidden well.

Griffin scolded me a few times for knocking out some guards that were on patrol as I was on the prowl. He said that if I couldn’t be discreet then he’d have to lock me in with Ember “for my own good.” I think he and I both knew he couldn’t actually carry out that threat, but I let him believe it and I switched from knocking out the guards to tripping them and watching them fall over the sides of the bridges.

Ember cautioned me last month to ease up on the exploration, carrying these two to term will be difficult enough as it is without adding on the strain of stalking through the cavern. Plus, she’s worried I’ll go into labor in some remote part of the hollow and have no one there to help me. It’s hard to say when they’ll finally arrive, wolves and dragons have different gestation periods. Wolves grow faster. But we don’t know if they’ll be hybrids, or one or the other. Since they’re fraternal it’s entirely possible that one is a wolf and one is a dragon. We won’t know until they’re born.

So for the last month, I’ve been relegated to bed rest – which I’m obviously not following – but for now I have stopped searching for exits.

Ember and I eat breakfast and dinner with Griffin most days and by now I’ve spent more hours napping on his couch than sleeping in my own bed. Besides Xander, I think Ember and Griffin are the only real friends I’ve ever had.

Ember always makes me ginger or raspberry tea, my two favorites. Griffin smuggles a watermelon in for me every week because he knows it’s the one thing I crave with this pregnancy. They’re both obsessed with watching the twins stretch my belly as they struggle to turn around in there. Griffin has also taken to sitting on the floor while I’m laying on the couch and pressing his ear to my stomach to listen to their heart beats.

They’re truly a brilliantly bright spot amidst the darkness that looms in this place. We talk about what we’ll do once we’re free from this place. Obviously I’ll return home, but Ember and Griffin have nowhere to go. Ember’s home was destroyed decades ago and Griffin will be turning his back on the only people he’s ever had in his life.

Part of me wants to invite them to live in the grove, but I don’t want them to feel trapped or obligated. I want them to have something they haven’t had in decades — a choice.

— — —

Griffin

Mags and Ember walk ahead of me like always, gossiping about one thing or another, though these days it’s usually all baby talk.

Mags won’t say it out loud but I know that every day we get closer to her due date she gets further from the hope that she’ll deliver them at home with her mates by her side. She’s tried explaining the mate thing to me a few times, but I can only imagine what it’s truly like to feel that kind of bond with someone. She speaks of them like they’re an extension of herself, like the mere thought of being reunited with them is the only thing keeping her going.

It’s hard watching that hope dwindle in her eyes. She’s an absolute tank on the outside, but I can see that she suffers in silence.

Another thing I’ve overheard her talking to Ember about is what Illian will do with the twins — if he’ll let her keep them.

Illian maintains that so long as Mags can keep her fey fire to herself he’ll allow any sons she has to be trained as warriors for the Drow. They’d be carriers of the gene and any daughters they produced in turn would have the gene as well.

And if this current pregnancy yields a daughter, he will allow her to live and vows not to include her in his quest to breed the fey gene into the Drow. However, any daughters he has with Mags will be married off to other warriors in the Hollow when they’re of age, further perpetuating the fey-drow hybrids.

Either way, as soon as those babies are born he’s ripping them away from her so he can hold their safety over her head and keep her in check.

I’m doing my best to convince him to let me take on the boy or boys, if she has them, so they can be my apprentice. So far he hasn’t given me any clear answer on whether or not he’ll allow it, but I’ll keep trying to come up with solutions that I know will provide them some level of safety.

“You need to tell me immediately if you’re feeling any kind of contractions. It’s hard to say when you’ll go into labor, it could be days or it could be another month so it’s very important that you look out for any changes.” Ember explains to Mags.

“What’s reassuring is that they looked fully developed on your last scan, lungs are mature and their hearts are strong. Now they’re just putting on weight, but technically they’re ready.” Ember says with an excited squeal at the end.

You’d think these two have been friends for years the way they interact with one another. Truthfully, after everything that they’ve both been through, I’m glad they have each other.

“Alright ladies, this is where I leave you. I’ll come find you tonight for dinner. If you don’t trip any of the guards today, there might even be an extra watermelon in it for you Mags.” I smirk at her and then give them each a quick kiss on the forehead. When I turn around to leave I bump into my brother, Gorm, who is just as evil as Illian.

“Good morning, brother, Ember…Magnolia. Did you sleep well? Sweet nightmares?” He throws his head back and cackles like a storybook villain.

“Griff, you’ll have to leave your pets behind. Illian’s expecting us.”

I follow along behind him, turning to look back at the girls briefly enough to mouth “it’ll be okay” before disappearing around the corner and heading down towards Illian’s private wing.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Thank you for coming down on such short notice. I’ll admit my patience is beginning to wane.” Illian paces back and forth in his office. “Griffin, you’ve grown close to Magnolia and the doctor these past few months. What have you learned about my sweet flower’s condition? Are we nearing the end?”

“Well, that’s — ” I begin, but I’m cut off by Gorm.

“Actually, the doc was just saying that the babies are technically fully developed, wasn’t she Griffin?” Gorm gives me a self-satisfied smirk.

“Yes, but she also said that doesn’t mean they’re ready. They still have weight to put on before they can be delivered.” I counter.

Illian rubs his jaw and chin in thought for a few moments before speaking again.

“So what if they’re a little small? I’ve made enough concessions on behalf of her mutts.” He snarls the last word like it’s dirty. “Have the doctor deliver them today. Now. Let me know when it’s done.” He dismisses us with a wave of his hand and it takes every ounce of control to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

The look Gorm gives me exposes his sick satisfaction with Illian’s command, and it somehow feels partially directed at me — like he expects me to be upset and is just waiting for it to show on my face.

“Griff, why don’t you tell the girls the good news? There’s going to be a birthday today.”