Retribution(11)

Serafin looked from Quin’s face to Layla's tense back. “Agro's still close, sweetheart.”

“I don't care,” she returned. “Let him find me. I'm useless to him now. He won't want me once he realizes my loyalties will always lie with Quin. You guys know that.”

“He may have lost any chances of loyalty,” Caitrin countered, “but that won’t deter him from claiming the treasure. Even if he decides you’re too much trouble, he'll do everything he can to get his hands on your children.”

There was a moment of silence that seemed to draw out forever. Then Layla firmly broke it, her voice like cold stone. “There won't be any children for him to take.”

Everyone gasped, and Quin clutched his chest, the heart within twisting as his lungs flattened and his stomach flipped. His whole body felt bruised and weak, crushed by the weight of her words. Using magic to loosen his tight throat, he forced himself to breathe. “Really, love?”

More silence. Then she drummed her fingernails on the counter and tapped a toe on the floor. Her shoulders shook and expanded with a choppy breath, and the beauty in her aura started draining away, making room for intense grief.

Quin flew to her and tentatively reached for her curls, worried she’d reject his touch in her sorrowful state, but the moment she tilted her head toward his fingers, he took her in his arms and pulled her back to his chest. His palm found her cheek as he kissed the top of her head, and she leaned into his hand, drifting trembling lips across his thumb as a tear rolled over his forefinger.

“Really, Quin,” she whispered. “We can't.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to endure the anguish pressing in on him. “Maybe it doesn't have to be that way.”

She gave a tiny nod as more tears followed the first. “But it does have to be that way. Look at the position we're in because of our powers. Now imagine what our child would face. From their very first breath to their very last they’d be a victim of circumstance. I can't do that... I can't put a child through that.”

Layla couldn’t find the strength to come right out and say it, but she knew having a child with him would be impossible, literally impossible. Bonded couples couldn't conceive if one of them had doubts, and no matter what happened down the road, she’d always fear bringing a child into their predicament. Bonding with Quin had made it impossible to have babies with him. She would never carry a baby. She said the words in her head, and they pierced her heart more keenly than expected. She would never carry a baby.

Quin sucked a deep breath into his burning lungs and pulled her tighter against him, knowing she was right – passing their burdens on to a child would be the epitome of selfishness, no matter how long they waited to do it. Several images flashed through his mind – some he'd seen before, some he’d yet to dream about, but all of them were gone now and would never be. He always imagined he’d someday have a child, and since he'd met his angel, he'd seen it in his dreams – a baby girl with dark curls, emerald eyes, and a soul-softening pucker framed by dimples; and two versions of a baby boy, both with his face, but one with Layla's emerald gaze.

As the visions disintegrated and drifted away, his heart broke for himself and busted for Layla. She’d be a fantastic mom – he knew by the way she doted on Alana – but she’d never get the chance to prove it.

Ignoring his churning stomach, he turned her into a hug. “I'm sorry, love.”

“Me, too, Quin. I want to give you everything, but I can't give you this. I can’t do that to a baby… to our baby.”

“I know, angel. I’d never ask you to.”

Layla filled her lungs with his strengthening scent. Then she pulled her face from his chest and wiped away tears. She tried to smile at him, but only managed a twitch. “If we ever get out of this mess, we'll adopt. We'll find a child who's had their family torn apart by people like the Unforgivables, and we'll give them the life they deserve.”

He reached for her face, and she closed her eyes, letting tingles flood her nerve-endings as his fingertips drifted across her forehead and down her nose, coming to a rest on her pulsing lips.

“That's a beautiful solution, my love, and if that's what you want, that's what we'll do. When it's safe enough.”

She opened her eyes and managed a smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Layla.”

“So we're going home?”

He hesitated then sighed. “I don't know. It's a big risk, and I'm not as ready as you are to take it.”

“I don't want to leave. I'd rather stay and face the danger.”

“We're talking about our lives, Layla.”