He should have told you. He wished he’d found the courage to speak the truth instead of hiding behind silence. But Azriel had always been better with shadows than words, and now, you were the one paying for his cowardice.

He hadn’t expected this, not yet. He thought you’d have more time before the possibility of children was even real. But then the scent of your pregnancy filled the air, and you were radiant with joy. The entire world seemed to shift for you.

But not everyone could share in that joy. Not fully. You were High Fae, and the babe growing inside you, his child, was Illyrian.

When you’d discovered the baby had wings, your face had lit up like starlight. You'd laughed, imagining Azriel teaching your child to soar through the skies. You saw a future he was too afraid to even hope for. You didn’t see the fear haunting the eyes of those around you. You didn’t feel the dread curling in his chest.

Your body would struggle to birth a winged child. The risk was too great. The baby could become stuck, and both your lives would hang in the balance. He had read the medical records. He’d seen the stories, ones that never ended well.

Azriel watches from the doorway as you fold tiny clothes, smiling as you whisper to your belly. He wanted to protect that smile more than anything. But the longer he stays quiet, the more that silence becomes betrayal.

It's your body. Your life. And you deserved to know the truth, even if it shattered the dream you were building with each tender caress of your bump.