Eira’s Comfort
Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Crimson Fang’s packhouse, its warmth failing to ease the tension gripping Isla’s heart. She found Eira in the nursery, her silver hair catching the light as she gently rocked one of the twins in her arms. The sight should have been comforting, but Isla’s mind was clouded by the sharp memory of her vision.
“Eira,” Isla began, her voice trembling slightly, “I need to talk to you.”
Eira turned, her emerald eyes softening as she handed the baby to Micah, who had just entered. She approached Isla, her movements calm and fluid. “What troubles you, Luna?”
“I had another vision,” Isla admitted, her hands clenching at her sides. “It felt so real this time. My father… he killed my mother.” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, ashamed of the doubt gnawing at her.
Eira placed a gentle hand on Isla’s arm, her touch steady and grounding. “Pain does strange things to the mind,” she said softly. “You’ve been through so much, Isla. Your body is still healing, and your heart is overwhelmed. Visions like this… they’re manifestations of fear, not truth.”
“But it felt real,” Isla whispered, her silver eyes shining with uncertainty. “His eyes were cold, Eira. Like he believed what he was doing was right.”
Eira’s expression didn’t waver, her voice soothing as she replied, “Your father loved your mother deeply. I saw it myself. Kaelen would never harm Xyla. He’s carried her loss like a wound that refuses to heal.”
Isla nodded slowly, though the unease in her chest refused to subside. She looked over at the nursery where Micah now held both twins, cooing softly to them as they stirred. Eira had been there through it all—helping deliver her children, caring for them when Isla was too weak, and now working alongside Micah to protect them.
“You’ve become such a part of our lives,” Isla said, her tone hesitant. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Eira smiled faintly, though something unreadable flickered in her emerald gaze. “That’s what family is for. We stand by each other, no matter the storms we face.”
Isla tried to let her words soothe her doubts, but as she watched Eira return to the nursery, a quiet voice in her mind whispered: Trust can be a double-edged sword.
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