The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3)

by Monica La Porta

  “What if she’s already with child?” Gabriel asked.

  “She is not,” Valentine answered with a vicious snarl. “She can’t be. I don’t want her to be. I haven’t spilled my Vital Essence in days, and I have no intentions to visit her bed any time soon.”

  “But how will you explain your decision to the High Priest?”

  “I don’t want Mirella to be my Blessed Bride any longer, and I repudiate her.”

  “That will cause quite a stir,” Gabriel said. “And what about her family? What are you going to say to them? How will you explain their daughter’s disappearance?”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to them, but I will let Mirella visit her family before she leaves Lupine.”

  “I’m glad you don’t intend to gag and bind her before throwing her into my ship.”

  Suddenly, Valentine’s outburst assumed a whole new meaning. “I thought you had already tired of me,” Mirella said.

  “Never.” He tightened his hold, but was careful of not hurting her.

  “But then you changed your mind—” She passed her hand over his hair, now growing in soft locks—Valentine had finally stopped shaving his head. “You let me stay.”

  “Soon before you were kidnapped, Balenus told me I was to be a father.”

  “That’s right. The events of those days are such a blur. Everything happened so fast.” Little by little though, all the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. “Have you always known?” She already knew the answer. His father wrote as much in his diary. But she needed to talk about what she had read, to process the written words.

  He nodded, then looked up at her. “I wanted to spare you all of this.”

  “Do blessed brides always die in childbirth?” she asked, closing her eyes and following the feeble hope that Marcellus might have been wrong. That all of this was a nightmare, and she would wake up in their bed, and Valentine would kiss the bad dream away. But when she opened her eyes, it was back to the harsh reality of the closet.

  “I’ve found a note from my father saying that a few survived a few days afterward, but they eventually died like the rest of the blessed brides before them.” He shuddered. “It’s all my fault. I never meant for you to go through this. I—”

  “I love you.” She pressed her hands to his sides to motion him to stand. Her life was falling apart at such a pace, she couldn’t breathe, but his arms were as solid as ever around her, and his pain wafted in waves from him, touching her more than words. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

  “If I sent you to Celestia right away and didn’t get you pregnant—”

  “If, if, if.” Putting a finger against his lips, she shushed him. “A long life without your love means nothing to me.” Even knowing what she now knew, it was the inescapable truth. She then took his hand and placed it on her belly. “Our son is the greatest gift you could give me.” Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes at the thought that she might never see their baby. But the anguish in his eyes grounded her once again, and she tilted her head to the side and attempted a smile. “I would’ve chosen you no matter what.”

  “Don’t say that.” He kissed her mouth, and it was a desperate joining. “I’m not worth it.”

  “Don’t say that,” she repeated his words in rebuke. “You are everything to me.” She kissed him back, but slowly. “And you have been so brave, shouldering this weight all by yourself, trying to do what you thought was best for me. You are not alone anymore.”

  “I’ll love you until the end of my time.”

  “Love me until the end of mine,” she whispered to his lips. “Know that I will live in our son.”

  “Mirella—” He took her face in both his hands. “I failed you.”

  His words cleaved the broken pieces of her heart smaller and smaller. “You taught me what love is, and that is worth everything.” She placed her hands on his shaking ones and nudged his nose with hers. Her tears mixed with his. “You forget I am not immortal. In the end, I would’ve left you alone.” She lowered his hands to her belly. “We’ve never talked about my mortality.” In the past few months, the thought had occurred to her—especially when nausea and fatigue battered her body and tired her mind—but she had relegated the topic to a conversation to have much later. She was still young after all. There would be time to confront the demon of her aging. “Our marriage has been such a rollercoaster, we haven’t had any time to talk about anything, but I was never meant to accompany you for long.”

  “You deserve much better than what I can offer you. Of what my race can offer you—” He shook his head. “We were dying, one by one, and scientists engineered a solution for our problem: blessed brides, women created to be compatible with our physiology.”

  “I know my story. Since I was a kid, I was made to feel special because one day I would give Master Lobo an heir. ‘In all the Coral System, you are the only one who can,’ my tutors told me so many times, I would repeat it to my sisters.” The memories were sweet, and she didn’t have to fake her smile, but her future was suddenly shorter than she had imagined, plunging her into bleaker despair. Still, she composed her emotions and infused her voice with strength. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you and our son so soon.” It’s unfair, and I hate it. And I want to scream and break something. She didn’t say that out loud. It would make Valentine feel worse, and he already looked past the point of breaking. What was it like to know all your life that your only chance of surviving as a species meant someone else’s death? She would have gone crazy. Or hated herself. It was too much to bear. “But I know that you’ll love him, and you’ll tell him about me.”

  As if their baby wanted to take part in the conversation, he summersaulted in her belly. The wolf pup and Valentine’s wolf too joined the group.

  Warmth descended upon Mirella like a soothing veil. The sweetest of emotions took hold of her, and she cried, but they were tears borne of affection and not despair.

  Love you, Mama.

  Love you, Papa.

  The words that weren’t words filled her mind, her brain translating her baby’s language that was made of sounds and emotions. When she looked at Valentine, she knew he had heard their son too.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Valentine looked at the sleeping form of Mirella. The Fifth Moon illuminated her, painting her curves in an ethereal light.

  They spent the whole night talking. She read more pages from the diary, and he answered to the best of his abilities when she had questions. It pained him to be honest with her because it went against his vow to serve and protect her, but he didn’t hold back information. It was heartbreaking and cathartic at the same time, and finally, Mirella fell asleep, exhausted.

  Still, her strength put him to shame.

  “I’ll be strong for you,” he whispered, caressing her hair. “I’ll raise our son to be as good as you are.”

  Later, when she woke, he made love to her, his feelings raw and his motions filled with tenderness.

  “I am the luckiest woman on Lupine,” she said afterward, stretching languidly under him, looking like a goddess.

  “Kitten—”

  “Shhh—” She supported herself on her elbows to raise her mouth to his. “Don’t you dare contradict a pregnant woman.”

  He smiled. “What do you want to do today?”

  “As much as I dislike the idea, I think that a chat with Balenus is in order.” She bumped her forehead to his. “Plus, the sooner we get the unpleasantness out of the way, the sooner we are free to enjoy each other’s company.”

  “Okay.” His emotions were still too high, but if she could deal with daily life, so would he.

  After a quiet breakfast they consumed in the nook, soaking up Coral’s pink rays, Valentine asked the medicus to join them in his studio. He and Mirella strolled from their apartments to the left wing on the first floor, and he kept her by his side, one arm around her waist.

  It was as if they were walking through the house for the first time. Sme
lls, colors, sounds, everything was amplified to his senses. Even his heart seemed to beat louder and faster.

  “I want to start the nursery today,” Mirella said when she stopped before one of his paintings.

  Every time in the last few months she had expressed the desire to choose furniture for her baby, he had always swayed her to a different activity, not ready to appear joyful.

  “I think the baby would like a room painted in a Terran color. Like the light-blue sky over these red-brick roofs.” She pointed at one of the first landscapes he had ever painted. “Also the white clouds. They look so peaceful.”

  He hugged her from behind, leaning his lips to the spot between her earlobe and her throat. “As you wish.” He would give her anything she wanted, and devote all his energies to making her smile for the remainder of her days. If only could he exchange his life for hers. But he was cursed with so much future and she so little.

  Soon, too soon, they reached his studio where the doctor was already waiting for them by the fireplace.

  “Master Lobo, Blessed Bride.” He nodded to Valentine and bowed for Mirella. “Is everything okay?” he asked when he saw how Valentine hovered around her.

  Valentine was unable to hide his anxiety, but led Mirella to the sofa and sat beside her, inviting the medicus to take the armchair in front of them.

  “I know everything,” Mirella said without dancing around the issue.

  Balenus turned his puzzled look to Valentine.

  “We talked about what ultimately happens to blessed brides,” Valentine explained, finding the words difficult to pronounce.

  “Well—” Balenus bit his lower lip, his hand caressing his jaw as his eyes darted between the two of them, but eventually focusing on Mirella. “Since you are fully aware of the complications of your pregnancy, I want to assure you that I’ll do my best to save you.”

  “I greatly appreciate that,” Mirella said with the smallest hint of mirth, and Valentine couldn’t help but admire her attempt at levity.

  “As I already told Master Lobo, at the moment of conception, your physiology started changing to host a werewolf. Nothing can be done before the labor starts and a C-section will kill you and the baby.”

  “No,” Mirella said. “You won’t try anything that could hurt our son.”

  Balenus raised his hand as if swearing an oath. “I would never compromise his birth.”

  “Good.” Mirella nodded, and her body relaxed beside Valentine’s, who caressed her arm.

  “My recommendation as your medicus is that you move as soon as possible back to the Vestal House—”

  Rage, fear, and desperation deflagrated at once inside Valentine, who could barely contain his bark. “No!” His free hand fisted the sofa’s cushion, tearing the fabric and exposing the soft, white down beneath.

  With a raised brow, Balenus continued, “In the entire Coral System there isn’t a better Neonatal Center than the one inside the Vestal House. Your father commissioned it, and thanks to your generous donations, Master Lobo, the Natal Chamber is a state of the art facility.” He then addressed Mirella, “I must insist, Blessed Bride. If there is a chance to save your life, it is at the Vestal House, not here.” With a sigh, he lowered his eyes to his lap for a moment. “I apologize for being blunt.”

  Mirella grabbed Valentine’s hand that was still placed against her arm and gently squeezed it. “No need for apologies. We are past coloring the truth with pink glasses.”

  Valentine took her hand to his chest and pressed it against his heart to soothe the tumultuous beats. “I will take Mirella to the Vestal House when the time is ready, and I will stay with her, at all times.”

  Shaking his head, Balenus brought both hands up. “Master Lobo, you know that no man is admitted in the Natal Chamber besides the High Priest and me—”

  “You’ll make an exception.” Valentine stood, helping Mirella up, and dismissing Balenus, who bowed and left.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “One more cloud on the right corner.” Mirella pointed at the spot on the wall of the nursery. She had asked for the chamber attached to the master bedroom to be decorated and furnished for the baby, and her husband immediately went to work.

  “As you wish,” Valentine said, repeating the three words that had become his favorite answer to Mirella, and she laughed.

  It seemed so long since she discovered the expiration date of her mortality, but only two days had passed. Anguish and despair lingered over her, but she put on her jovial mask in front of Valentine. Her handsome werewolf was more fragile than anyone could ever imagine, and she wanted to protect him if it was in her power.

  “What about some draglets flying over the crib?” he asked, his hand holding the dripping brush over the can of white paint. but

  After painting the ceiling and the top half of the walls in a peaceful shade of light-blue, Valentine had started painting the clouds she had requested.

  “I like the idea. And below, the Great Plains,” she said.

  “You stole the words from my mind.” He leaned to kiss her nose, then turned to the wall to add the cloud Mirella requested.

  With a contented sigh, she sat on the loveseat Valentine had moved into the nursery for her, and watched her husband lose himself in a series of strokes of his wrist that produced a puffy, large cloud, billowing from the corner of the wall. He then put the large brush down and selected one of the smaller ones, dipped it into the black paint, and started tracing the form of a draglet.

  “Is it Dallian?” she asked, pressing her hand against her belly. Her son was particularly active around the afternoon hours, but today, even though it was morning, the baby had been summersaulting inside her belly as if riding his own draglet.

  “Yes, and this is little Canlis.” He moved to the side to show her a second sketched draglet, Dallian’s offspring. Then he placed the brush to the wall once again. “And here will fly Lannan.”

  “I love that.” Even though she had witnessed Valentine’s mastery on several occasions, the effortless elegance he imbued in everything he did still amazed her. At present, he had just sketched a family of draglets with nothing more than a few round strokes, creating the illusion of flight. “Our baby will love the company.” She smiled at the idea.

  One day, her son would ride Canlis, alongside Valentine and Dallian. One day, he would be a splendid man, like his father…

  “I love you.” Valentine was at her side, kneeling before her as if he had read her thoughts.

  “Baby is restless today,” she said, leading his gaze to her belly.

  Valentine kissed her bump, then placed his ear just over her belly button. “Junior, let Mama rest.”

  After that one time when the baby had communicated with them, it had not happened again, but their son would answer to their voices by pressing against the belly, as he was doing now.

  “It feels like he’s pushing with both feet and hands.” Mirella held her breath as her son adjusted himself inside her. She was seven and half months pregnant, but it sure seemed her pregnancy wasn’t following human schedule, but rather hydrousarus’, because she waddled like a marine mammal around the manor.

  “Story time?” Valentine asked their son.

  In response, the baby shoved his feet against Valentine’s face, which would have been funny if it hadn’t stolen what was left of Mirella’s breath.

  “Story time it is.” Valentine chuckled, looking up and blowing a kiss to Mirella. “What about the Three Pigs at the Market—”

  Their son didn’t move, communicating his will through his inactivity.

  “No Three Pigs today, I see.” Valentine paused for a moment, then said, “What about The Prince’s Day Out?”

  Baby immediately pushed against the belly.

  “Is there any other story you wish to hear?” Mirella asked in a mocking tone, but her son didn’t deign to give her a physical answer. Instead, it seemed as if he was making himself more comfortable inside her. “I swear you have told
him the prince’s tale a hundred times already.”

  “Probably more, but he likes it so much.” Since Baby had a predilection for the tale, Valentine was also drawing the illustrations to the words, so that he would soon read it from the book he was putting together. “I must have driven my nurse insane with the same request. It was my favorite story as well.”

  Valentine sat on the floor, his arms around her legs, and his head on her lap. “There was once a faraway land where fruits were plenty and birds sang on heart-shaped trees. A blind prince lived in the highest tower in the loveliest village of the realm…” he recited, his voice taking a singsong quality as he proceeded in the narration.

  Their son listened, his restlessness of a few minutes ago abandoned for a calm rest.

  Mirella enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere, caressing Valentine’s head. She committed the moment to memory and rejoiced at the notion that she was rich with many beautiful mementos. More than jewelry, more than elegant dresses, more than any expensive token, to experience the love of her family was the most precious gift Valentine could ever give her. What a man her husband had proved to be. Lupine knew Master Lobo, but she was the only one to whom he had opened his heart and shown his true self.

  Valentine finished his tale, and their son adjusted in her belly, but it was a sleepy movement. Mirella imagined the baby curling tightly while sucking his thumb and playing with a lock of his hair.

  “You’ve made me so happy,” she said to Valentine, who gently shook his head but didn’t say anything.

  He kissed her belly, then slowly unfurled, freeing his long limbs before pushing himself up.

  While she watched him, Valentine resumed his painting, and they spent the rest of the morning in comfortable silence as he worked and she napped. Her stomach woke her by lunchtime.

  “I could use a break,” Valentine said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Dabs of white and blue paint colored his forearms and the front of his shirt. “What would you like to eat?”