Fated by Moon and Sea

Chapter Twelve: The Cry

Chapter Twelve: The Cry

Savannah POV:

I can still feel their eyes on me. Isaiah and Josiah Stark—identical in appearance, but something about them is different. They didn’t say much, but it was enough. That moment felt heavy, like they were holding back a storm, their silence more telling than words. What the hell was that about?

Their presence was overwhelming—not just because of how massive and intimidating they are, but because something about them felt familiar, like a shadow I can’t quite see. And the way they looked at me... like they knew something I didn’t. It’s unsettling as f**k.

I shiver, rubbing my arms to shake off the weird feeling. It clings to me, heavy and uncomfortable, like I walked into the middle of something I wasn’t supposed to. What the hell is going on? They didn’t even explain why they acted like that. Just staring at me like I was the answer to a question they hadn’t asked yet. It’s driving me insane.

I glance toward the corridor where they disappeared, that knot in my stomach tightening. Part of me wants to follow, demand answers, and make them tell me what’s going on. But the other part... I just wish Orion were here.

Orion always knows what to say. He’d ground me, pull me out of this spiral. If he were here, I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling so f*****g untethered and lost. I can almost hear him in my head, whispering something gentle.

“My little melody, we’ll figure this out. I’ve got you.”

I let out a slow breath, wishing his hand was in mine. The weight of being in Lunaris without him is starting to get to me. This place feels wrong but right at the same time—like I don’t belong here, but I do. And without Orion, it’s like I’m balancing on a knife’s edge, just waiting to fall.

Movement catches my eye, and I pull myself out of my thoughts. A woman steps forward from beside the quadruplet alphas of the Storm Pack. She’s tall, her blonde hair shining like a beacon, with sharp features that make her look like she’s been carved out of stone. I recognize her immediately—Natala.

Everyone knows her story. The long-lost princess of Lunaris, gone for years, only to reappear like a legend come to life, second of the three hybrids blessed to our worlds. But no one ever mentioned how she was connected to the Supreme Alphas or the Triplet Kings.

Natala’s eyes—no, scratch that. I don’t know what colour her eyes are because they’re locked on mine, filled with something I can’t quite place. Curiosity? Recognition? Whatever it is, it’s setting me on edge.

She steps closer, her movements smooth and deliberate, like she’s used to being in control. “I’m Natala,” she says, her voice cool and confident. “The princess of Lunaris.”

I nod slowly, my mind still trying to process what the hell is going on. Yeah, I know who you are, thanks. Everyone in the realms knows her name. But what comes next knocks the air right out of me.

“I’m also their half-sister,” she adds, tilting her head toward the corridor Isaiah and Josiah disappeared into. “And Tristan, Lucas, and Hayden too.”

Wait. What? My heart skips a beat. She’s their half-sister. The Supreme Alphas and the Triplet Kings? I try to wrap my head around that, but it feels like someone just upended the entire map of everything I thought I knew about these realms.

“And,” Natala continues with a sly smile, “I’m mated to them.” She nods toward the quadruplet alphas standing behind her, each of them silent and watchful, their expressions unreadable but protective.

Quadruplet mates. Of course. Why wouldn’t things get more complicated? The weight of it all presses down on me, and for a moment, I feel like I’m drowning. This entire realm is soaked in secrets and alliances, and somehow, I’ve walked right into the middle of it, I think?

Before I can respond—or even think of what to say—a sound cuts through the noise in my mind.

Babies crying.

The moment I hear it, my heart stutters. A strange, almost painful ache settles in my chest. I don’t know how I know, but I do. Those are Alicia’s children. I can feel it deep inside, like an invisible thread pulling me toward them.

Holy s**t.

I barely register the people around me. Natala, the alphas, my guards—none of them matter right now. That sound is the only thing I care about. The cries grow louder, tugging at something primal in me. I have to get to them.

“Savannah—” Laasya’s voice calls from behind me, tinged with concern. “Where are you going?”

Aurelia’s wings shimmer as she steps toward me, her expression confused. “Vannah, wait. What’s going on?”

I ignore both of them, my feet already moving. The sound of the babies crying wraps around me, pulling me forward. My heart pounds against my ribcage, my instincts screaming that I need to get to them—now.

“Princess Savannah!” One of the guards calls out, but his voice feels distant like it’s coming from underwater.

I push past them, my pulse racing as the cries grow louder. Each step feels heavier and more urgent, like if I don’t get there soon, something inside me will shatter.

I know these babies belong to Alicia. I can feel it in my bones, deep in my gut. It’s a certainty that doesn’t make sense, but I know it’s true. They’re hers. And somehow, they’re connected to me, too.

The hallway stretches out in front of me, the cries growing louder with every step I take. Everything else fades into the background—Aurelia, Laasya, the guards, and Natala. None of it matters.

All that matters is getting to those babies.

And nothing is going to stop me.

The cries grow louder as I round the corner, my heart slamming against my ribcage. I don’t know what’s driving me, but the pull feels impossible to resist. It’s more than instinct—it’s like something in my soul knows I need to be with them.

The hallway opens into a nursery, soft light filtering through gauzy curtains. My eyes land on two tiny bundles lying side by side in a crib, and my breath catches in my throat. They’re perfect.

The first baby, a boy with a mop of jet-black hair, lets out a little whimper, kicking his tiny feet. His eyes are scrunched shut, his small fists waving in the air with frustration. This must be Alexander—the older twin. Even now, there’s something about him that feels sharp and determined, like he’s got a fire in him, ready to take on the world from the moment he opened his eyes.

Next to him lies his sister. Elara. Her soft auburn curls catch the light, glowing warmly in contrast to Alexander’s dark hair. Her small lips tremble in a pout as she whimpers in sync with him. They’re so different—night and day—but unmistakably connected, as if their bond runs deeper than blood and bone.

The sight of them tugs at something deep in my chest, an ache I didn’t know was there until now. Without thinking, I step forward, my hands trembling. I reach into the crib and gently lift both babies into my arms, cradling them close.

Alexander squirms for a moment, but the second his cheek presses against my chest, he sighs, the tension draining from his tiny body. Elara follows suit, nestling into me with a soft, sleepy hum. Their breathing slows, syncing with mine, and they curl against me as if they’ve been waiting for this exact moment.

Something shifts inside me, something primal and fierce. The kind of instinct that I imagine only mothers feel—the overwhelming urge to protect, to hold, to never let go. I feel it settle into my bones, raw and powerful. These babies—Alicia’s babies—need me, and there’s no way in hell I’m ever letting anything happen to them.

“Shh,” I whisper, rocking them gently. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Their tiny bodies soften against me, and for the first time since I walked into Lunaris, something clicks into place. It doesn’t make sense, but it feels right—like I was meant to be here, holding them, keeping them safe.

The nursery door creaks open, and I glance over my shoulder to see Aurora and Natala standing in the doorway. They stop dead in their tracks, their faces a mixture of amazement and disbelief.

Aurora tilts her head slightly, her gaze flicking between me and the now-calm twins. “Huh,” she murmurs, her tone light with curiosity, “That’s... unexpected.”

Natala steps closer, crossing her arms over her chest, but there’s no hostility in her posture—just genuine wonder. “You’ve been here two minutes, and they’re already asleep?” she asks, almost like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “We’ve been trying for days to get them to calm down.”

Aurora laughs softly, though there’s a hint of something thoughtful in her expression. “They’ve barely slept since... well.” She trails off, exchanging a quick glance with Natala. “We thought they were calling for their mother.”

Natala nods, her gaze still fixed on me. “Looks like they found what they were looking for.”

The weight of her words sinks in, making my heart ache. They were calling for Alicia.

I look down at the twins, their tiny hands clutching my dress, their faces peaceful for the first time since I entered the room. A part of me wants to cry—because these babies lost their mother, and somehow, I ended up being the one they needed.

Aurora narrows her eyes, though not in suspicion—more like fascination. “How exactly do you fit into all this, Princess?” she asks, her voice laced with playful curiosity. “Because I gotta say... this doesn’t seem like a coincidence.”

Natala smirks, tilting her head as if she’s trying to piece together a complicated riddle. “Yeah,” she says, softly amused. “It’s almost like they knew you were coming.”

My pulse quickens. s**t. They’re sharp—too sharp. They’re not accusing me of anything, but I can see the gears turning in their minds. If I stand here too long, they’re going to figure out what I don’t even fully understand myself.

Before they could push further, Aurelia and Laasya burst into the room, sliding in front of me like they’d been waiting for this moment their whole lives.

“She’s just visiting,” Aurelia says quickly, her wings fluttering as she flashes a bright smile. “The Crown Princess of Aetherium, no big deal.”

“Yeah,” Laasya chimes in, crossing her arms in a protective stance. “Totally ordinary royal stuff. Nothing unusual here.”

Aurora raises a brow, clearly amused but still curious. “Mmm-hmm. Right. Just a princess, casually calming down babies that no one else could settle for days.”

Natala chuckles softly, giving me a look that feels like she knows more than she’s letting on. “Definitely ordinary.”

Aurelia rolls her eyes, clearly unbothered. “Look, all we’re saying is she’s great with babies. Happens to the best of us.”

Laasya gives a mock shrug. “Must be a siren thing.”

Aurora and Natala exchange a glance, both of them still smiling—but there’s something deeper in their eyes, a flicker of recognition, like they’re on the verge of figuring out exactly who I am.

Before they can say another word, a low, thunderous growl rumbles through the room, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

It’s the kind of sound that demands attention—raw, powerful, and unmistakably angry.

Isaiah and Josiah.

They’re back.

And they don’t sound happy.