POV: Soraya
The morning light drapes across the Zehrael guest chamber like spilled honey, warm and soft, gentle on my skin. I’m wrapped in sheets that still smell faintly of moonflowers—left behind from the festival celebrations. My body feels heavier than usual, pleasantly tired, like I’ve been running through dreams all night.
Except it’s more than that.
There’s a strange flutter beneath my ribs. A quiet hum. A warmth I can’t explain.
I sit up slowly, pressing a palm to my abdomen as the sensation moves again—soft, almost like a whisper from within.
“What…?” I breathe out.
I try to stand, but dizziness washes over me, forcing me back onto the edge of the bed.
Vienne notices from across the room—she’s been staying with me since the festival ended, helping me manage the nonstop flow of visitors congratulating the Ashra–Zehrael union.
“Soraya?”
Her footsteps are quick, concerned.
“Are you alright? You’re pale.”
I shake my head, swallowing hard.
“I don’t know. I just… feel strange.”
Vienne kneels in front of me.
“Strange how? Pain? Nausea?”
“No. Not pain. Like—something’s awakening inside me.”
Vienne freezes for a moment. Her eyes widen, dark lashes trembling.
“Soraya,” she whispers, voice catching, “have you felt this before?”
I blink.
“No.”
She glances at my stomach. Then at my face.
Then—her eyes soften.
“Oh moonlight…” She stands, rushing to the door.
“I’m calling the healer.”
“No, wait—”
She’s too fast. A moment later, the Zehrael healer, Arhen, enters with calm steps, silver tattoos glowing faintly on her wrists.
“What troubles you, Luna?” Arhen asks gently.
I swallow, embarrassed by how loudly my heart is pounding.
“I… feel something. Inside me. I don’t know if it’s magic, or an aftermath of the battlefield, or—”
Arhen doesn’t let me finish. She places warm hands over mine, her touch cool and steady.
“Breathe,” she murmurs. “Let your body speak.”
I inhale slowly.
There it is again—
A tiny flicker. A pulse. A small, soft life.
Arhen’s eyes widen. She studies the glow that blooms beneath her palms.
“Oh,” she whispers.
Vienne grips the back of a chair.
“What is it? Tell us!”
Arhen looks up at me with a gentle smile.
“You are with child.”
The world seems to tilt. My fingers stiffen. My breath halts. My lips part but no sound comes.
“With… child?” I echo, barely audible.
Arhen nods.
“Your energy, the way it hums—it belongs to two now. The moon has blessed you, Luna Soraya.”
Vienne squeals so loudly the walls vibrate.
“Soraya! You’re pregnant! You’re—oh gods—pregnant!”
My vision blurs at the edges. Everything feels unreal.
Pregnant. The word sits heavy. Warm. Terrifying. Beautiful. My knees buckle, and I sit back on the bed, trembling.
Arhen kneels beside me.
“Your body is strong. Your powers are stabilizing well, but you must rest from now on. No extreme magic. No transformations. And definitely no long travels.”
Vienne nods vigorously.
“She won’t! I’ll tie her to a chair if I have to!”
I manage a weak laugh.
Then tears—unexpected and hot—slide down my cheeks.
“Soraya?” Vienne whispers gently. “What are you feeling?”
I press both hands to my stomach.
“A life,” I whisper. “A little life. Part of me. Part of…”
My voice catches.
Emotion strikes too quickly to hide.
Raevan’s face flashes in my mind—the warmth of his hands, the fear he wore when I nearly died, the way he said he couldn’t imagine life without me.
His ring is still on my finger.
Part of him. Vienne sits beside me and wraps her arms around me.
“I’m happy for you,” she murmurs. “So, so happy.
“I’m scared,” I admit quietly.
She pulls back slightly.
“Of what?”
“Everything,” I whisper. “I’ve fought wars. Faced monsters. Lost people I loved. But this—”
I touch my abdomen again, gently.
“This is different.”
“It is,” she agrees softly. “Different, but not bad.”
“I don’t know how Raevan will react.”
Vienne snorts.
“That man worships you. He’ll fall to his knees and thank the moon herself.”
A single laugh escapes me through the tears. Arhen rises to her feet, respectful and calm.
“I shall prepare teas and charms to protect both of you,” she says. “But Soraya… do not worry. This child is strong. I can feel its magic already.”
“Magic?” I echo.
She nods. “Moon-marked. Just like its mother.”
A chill runs through me. A child born of Zehrael Luna and Ashra Alpha. A child whose bloodline carries ancient power. A child who could unite the desert even more than we already have. A child who will be loved fiercely.
Vienne squeezes me again.
“When will you tell Raevan?” she asks.
My pulse quickens.
“When…” My lips tremble. “When I stop shaking.”
Vienne laughs warmly.
“That may take a while. He tends to cause that.”
I wipe my tears, inhale deeply, and stand with new determination.
“I’ll tell him today.”
Vienne beams.
“Good. And if he faints, I’ll laugh.”
“Vienne!”
“What? He deserves at least one shock after everything he put you through.”
I shake my head, still smiling through tears. Arhen gathers her herbs and bows.
“I will return at dusk, Luna.”
When she leaves, Vienne turns to me, eyes sparkling.
“Soraya,” she whispers, cupping my cheeks.
“You’re going to be a mother.”
A breath escapes me—half-sob, half-laugh.
“And Raevan…”
My voice softens. “He’s going to be a father again.”
I look down at my stomach, hands hovering protectively.
“Little one,” I murmur, “you are the hope this desert needed.”
Outside, the Moon Festival lanterns still float in the sky. And inside me, a new light begins.