Twilight's Dawn

Daemon’s invitation for him to leave.
    Turning his back on the Sadist was playing with suicide, but he did it. When he reached the door, Daemon said, “Lucivar? I want this baby.”
    Lucivar looked over his shoulder. “I’ll talk to Surreal. And then you and I will talk.”
    He walked out of the study. Beale stood in the great hall at the doorway leading to the informal receiving room and the staircase that led to the family wing.
    “Anything I need to know?” he asked the butler.
    “Lady Surreal saw her Healer in Amdarh and was given a tonic to help her body adjust to . . .” Beale fumbled, clearly reluctant to speak of something so personal when it pertained to the SaDiablo family—especially when none of them knew if Daemon would take offense at someone talking about Surreal.
    Lucivar nodded so that Beale didn’t have to continue. “I’m going up now to talk to her—with the Prince’s permission.”
    “I don’t believe Lady Surreal’s Jewels have been drained yet,” Beale said.
    Not something I can do for her now, Lucivar thought as he strode through the corridors that led to Surreal’s suite.
    Blood was the living river, and the body was the vessel for the power that made the Blood who and what they were. But everything had a price. When a witch wore darker Jewels, her moontimes were more uncomfortable and the pain of doing more than basic Craft during the first three days was fierce. That was the reason they drained their Jewels before a moontime—to let the body rest. And when they were pregnant, they submitted to someone else draining the reserve power in their Jewels so that their power didn’t try to fill the child in the womb—and destroy it.
    He rapped once on Surreal’s sitting room door and went in before she answered. One look at her had him yanking back his temper because she didn’t need a man yelling at her, but he couldn’t stop himself from going up to the windows where she stood and opening his wings halfway to look more intimidating.
    “Get off your feet,” he snarled.
    “Take a piss in the wind,” she snarled back.
    Relieved that she didn’t sound as sick as she looked, he took a step back to give her some room.
    “Aren’t you going to ask how this happened?” Surreal said.
    “I have two children. I know how it happened. What I don’t know is what you want to do about it.”
    “Do about it? I’m keeping it! How could you think I would . . .” She burst into tears.
    “Ah, Surreal.” He put his arms around her and cuddled her while she cried. “That isn’t what I meant.”
    “I’m not upset,” she said, still crying. “My body is doing strange things, and it’s making me weepy. And being weepy because I can’t help it is not the same as being upset.”
    Lucivar rubbed his cheek against her hair. “It will be all right. In a couple of days, you’ll swing over to bitchy and that will feel more normal to you.”
    She punched him. He laughed.
    When she seemed settled again, he called in a handkerchief and let her mop her face.
    “What I meant was, what do you want to do about Sadi? Talk to me, Surreal.”
    “I’d rather you talk to him .”
    “After you tell me what you want. I thought Daemon had this place locked down to keep everyone out, but that’s not all of it, is it?”
    “He says I can’t leave with his child.”
    “Well, the baby can’t go anywhere without you for quite some time, and he can’t seriously expect you to stay inside the Hall for the next ten months.”
    “I wouldn’t bet on that, sugar.” Surreal sniffled once more, then vanished the handkerchief. “He offered to marry me. Told me, more like it. A week from tomorrow.”
    He loved his brother, but he wasn’t sure Daemon was emotionally ready to be anyone’s husband yet—if ever.
    “What did you say?” he asked.
    “I haven’t given him an answer yet.” She looked sad and wistful. “But I am going to marry him.”
    “Why?” When she didn’t answer, he swore softly. “I know you care for Daemon. And he cares for you. But I’m not sure he can give you the kind of love a wife deserves from a husband.”
    “I do have some conditions that he’ll have to agree to, and if he agrees, I think we can do well enough together.”
    “You don’t have to settle for ‘well enough.’ ”
    She turned away to stare out the window. “I want this baby, Lucivar. Not just a baby; this baby. And I want this chance at a marriage. I haven’t shared my life with anyone