Help! Five Beast Alphas Want To Breed Me!!(BL)-Chapter 290: Dear Child

Selthía;

I walk with my hands folded behind my back as I make my way through the castle.

Guards bow as I walk past them, and serpents quietly slither off my path as I approach them.

My steps echo softly, following me along the smooth stone paths. Sunlight pours through the massive windows, creating bands of warm gold that stretch across the floor like whispering ribbons.

It’s a beautiful morning. One of those mornings where you can’t help but focus on the little moments instead of whatever worry may be in your heart.

The castle is this gentle though because Zephan and Zethar left for training about an hour ago.

If they were still here, there would be no missing their presence. The perfect blend of balance and chaos, moving as one.

It’s ironic how they got an Omega who perfectly matched their chaos.

Speaking of which, where is he?? I haven’t seen him all day. Perhaps he’s sleeping?

It’s good. He needs rest.

The poor boy looked utterly spent the last time I saw him. Half from morning sickness, half from the strain he refuses to admit to, and half from Zethar hovering like a coiled guardian serpent ready to strike the world itself if it dares breathe too close.

Despite constantly caring for Elián, the boys are worried about war. And they refuse to be caught unprepared. Hence, every chance they get, they train.

That understanding dulls my smile.

The council has also put measures in place. Unannounced, shadowed training and recruitments for this war.

Everyone is doing their oath to make sure we can stand, facing the warlocks and witches when they come.

And for now, my primary goal is to make sure my people’s magic is strong enough to withstand the heat that meeting will bring in its wake.

I turn into the long gallery where I often work when the castle grows too loud in my head, and just stepping in, sweet shivers run up my spine and along my arms.

Sculptures of ancient serpents line the walls, their forms carved from stone and gemstones alike. Emerald eyes, dark fangs, bodies frozen mid-coil.

Guardians of an older Nagari, before crowns and councils complicate everything. Back when cunning was ever serpents undisputeable birthright.

Dangerous deception embedded in the core of our existence.

My worktable stands near the open balcony, scattered with brushes, chisels, enchanted inks, and scrolls layered with half-finished runic theories I had abandoned the last time I was here.

I sigh as I walk up to the table and stare at the small angel I’ve been trying to nurse back to health.

Trosha.

She is coiled in a small, woven and padded basket.

The beauty is so small, barely the length of my forearm. Her body is formed of shimmering green crystal and living magic.

Her scales usually glow with a gentle pulse, but for days now, they have been dull. Fading. Refusing nourishment. Refusing light.

I pick up the basket, and Torsha weakly lifts her head to look at me.

"All right, little one," I whisper.

"We go again today. Slowly." I say, and she blinks once.

Barely.

I sigh. She really needs help, or I won’t be able to save her from dying.

Dipping a brush into silver runic ink, I trace symbols in the air around the basket.

Ancient serpentine sigils meant to stimulate energy flow, coaxing magic to circulate where it has grown stagnant.

Left curve. Right flick. Sweeping tail...

The runes shimmer faintly... and then suddenly they all fall to the ground as my concentration is broken.

"Um... Queen Selthía?"

I freeze. Light!

That voice does not belong here.

I turn towards the entrance slowly, and I go rigid when I see Elián standing in the doorway, with his hair messy, and eyes wide and curious.

He’s wearing those light clothes he always wears in the afternoon... this one just like the others, clearly thrown on without much thought. He looks like someone who woke up, decided rest is unacceptable, and wandered off before anyone could stop him.

"Elián," I say, blinking.

"You’re... awake," I note, and he nods with a small pout.

"I couldn’t sleep. So I thought I’d explore."

Of course he did.

"Well," I say carefully,

"You should be cautious of where you wander off to. You’re—" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Pregnant," he says, waving a hand dismissively, and I blink at him.

"I know. Zerana has been gracious enough to give me that lecture only about a thousand times." He whines, and I snort before I can stop myself.

He grins, almost proud that he made me smile, and then he steps closer, eyes not fixed on the bruh in my hand.

"What’s that?" He questions as he carefully approaches the tale, and I move aside so he can see.

"Trosha. A young serpentine. She’s been... sluggish, these past two days." I explain, and he leans over the basket.

Trosha opens one eye and hisses faintly. Elian pouts.

"She looks like a grumpy noodle." He says, and I choke on a laugh.

A noodle... that’s what he calls one of the meals we serve him here. It’s coiled dough, but he calls it noodles, and we’ve wordlessly agreed to accept his name for it.

"You’re trying to help her feel better?" He then questions, and I nod.

"If you wish to watch, you may," I say, regaining composure.

"But the runes are delicate, so please don’t—" I continue, and he cuts me off.

"I can help." My heart skips at the questions, and my eyes widen.

"No—" I begin, but he picks up a brush.

"Elián—" I try to reason with him. This boy and chaos are hand in hand, and this is a practise that absolutely does NOT need chaos, confusion, or mistakes.

"Dear, you can’t—" I try again, but it’s too late.

He dips the brush and traces the rune he must have seen me draw earlier, but he accidentally draws it backwards.

The basket trembles, and I gasp.

"No—!"

The rune collapses in a puff of gold dust, and Trosha hisses, offended. Elián freezes.

"Uh..."

I inhale. Exhale, and then steady by tone as I don’t want him to misunderstand or feel hurt.

I can’t chase him away either cause he has grown VERY sensitive these past few days, and him misunderstanding me is going to cause a break down im not ready for.

"I’m sorry." He speaks, and I smile.

"It’s all right," I reply gently as I turn back to Trosha. "Try again. Follow my hand."

I speak as I wave my brush, drawing another tune in the air.

He copies, and it is wrong again.

Another puff of gold. I bite my lower lip and try again.

His eyes narrow as he watches closely. He copies, and this time, the rune falls to the table before vanishing.

By the fourth attempt, his breathing hitches.

By the fifth, his hand trembles, and I drag a deep breath. Here it comes.

He drops the brush, and then... his face crumples.

Oh no.

"Elián—" I try to stop the chaos before it begins, but he bursts into tears.

Not quiet, dignified ones. No!

These are full, broken, hiccupping sobs.

"I j-just wanted to help!" He croaks, and my chest seizes.

"I can’t do anything right—!" He adds, and my jaw drops, while my eyes widen as I stare at the boy whose face is turning red beside me.

"Zethar tells me to rest... Zephan looks at me like I’ll shatter... I’m a burden to everyone, and now I can’t even draw a stupid rune..." He breaks down, and I panic.

I absolutely panic.

"Oh Light—please—wait—don’t—" I tremble as I quickly set down my brush, but he cries harder.

This emotional fluctuation is all thanks to his baby.

Oh, this is going to be one hell of a child, giving him emotions this strong when he’s just exiting month one.

I move close to him and awkwardly pat his head.

"There... there...? No?" I soothe, trying to stop him, but it doesn’t work. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Spirits help me, I am terrible at this.

I brush his hair back. Pat his shoulder, his back... Nothing works.

Then I see Zerana down the hall.

She has stopped.

Her hands are over her mouth, and her shoulders are shaking.

She is laughing.

"Do not," I hiss wordlessly at her

"Don’t you dare!" I mouth further, but she waves, absolutely unrepentant.

Elián collapses against me, sobbing into my shoulder, and I sigh.

This child...

I wrap my arms around him. Not hesitantly. Not awkwardly...

Just... fully, and he sags instantly, clinging to me like he has been waiting for permission.

"You are not useless," I whisper into his hair, as I gently pat him.

"You are learning. Everything feels larger right now because your body is changing." I add, and his sobs soften.

"You are allowed to fail... every once in a while. I mean, you’d be a freak if you didn’t." I add, and a broken laugh escapes him.

"You are allowed to cry, too. Especially now when no one can judge you for ugly crying." I continue, and he laughs again.

I listen to the sound of it as I rock him gently.

I have not held someone like this in years.

Not since before grief taught me restraint...

When he finally calms down, he pulls away from me, and I wipe his cheek with my sleeve.

"Shall we try again?" I ask, deciding to teach him not to turn from a problem simply because it’s difficult.

He nods.

I hold this time to guide him, and the runes form perfectly above the basket.

.

Trosha glows.

"We did it," he whispers excitedly, and I smile.

"Yes," I say softly.

"You did," I add, with warmth blooming in my chest.

Terrifying... but beautiful all the same.

He is making space in my heart.

And for the first time in a very long while— I do not push it away.

He makes me feel like maybe... just maybe somewhere inside me I have the tenderness to be a mother...

"Thank you!" He whispers as he throws his arms around me, wrapping me in a hug, and I smile softly at him.

I hold him, and my eyes find Zerana again. This time she’s smiling like a pint who’s found art she wants to capture.

"No. Thank you, little bud." I whisper as I lift his chin and stare at the precious child I know deep within me, I just might give anything to protect.