THE UNBROKEN

The temple chamber was heavy with silence.

Torchlight flickered against the stone walls, casting long shadows over the Behike's worn faces. Alejandro leaned against the entry column, his left arm still tightly bound and healing awkwardly. The pain showed in his face, but he didn't care. He had insisted this meeting happen. He needed answers.

Aurora stood beside him, barely holding herself together. Her cheeks were raw from crying. She looked nothing like the indomitable matriarch who'd once commanded entire legions. Her arms were wrapped around herself, as if bracing for a storm that had already arrived.

"She's not herself," Aurora whispered.

The words echoed in the chamber.

"Esperanza… she's changed. She's gone quiet. She's moody. She stares at walls, muttering. She hasn't asked for her mother. She hasn't smiled. It's like she knows. Like she hears something none of us do."

Her voice cracked.

"She's just a child. She shouldn't have to feel this."

Alejandro's eyes were sharp. "What's happening to them?" he asked flatly. "To both of them? This isn't love. It's obsession. Hunger. The wards failed, and the sanctuary can't sleep at night from the sounds coming from that cottage. The people are terrified. They're leaving offerings like it's a shrine to some demon. No man or woman can survive this long without food or water. What is happening to them?"

The two Behike's, La Señora and the visiting elder from Marisiana, shared a look.

Then, quietly, the elder Behike answered.

"There is nothing to be done."

Alejandro stiffened. Aurora looked as if she might fall over.

"Elena made her choice," the Behike continued. "She bargained her life to return. She swallowed the storm serpent herself. Guabancex in her rawest, most ancient incarnation. One without a name. One who demands her due. And what she demands…"

"She has," La Señora Behike whispered, "a consort. And heirs."

Aurora gasped. Alejandro swore, staggering back a step.

"We don't know," the Behike added, "if it's one child… or many. But the lion will obey. It is his compulsion. His divine sentence. The claiming won't stop until the gods are satisfied. And we- " she looked away, her voice cracking, "we don't know what that means."

They were quiet.

And then they wept.

All four of them. In the dim light of that ancient place, they bowed their heads and wept. For their friend, their sister, their general. For the man who had borne so many wounds, only to be ensnared by a divine hunger he never asked for.

They wept for Elena and Niegal.

And when there were no more tears, they prayed.

For mercy.

For peace.

For the strength to bear witness to what came next.

Inside the cottage, time had ceased to matter.

Elena lay in Niegal's arms, both their bodies bruised and starved. Neither had eaten. Neither had drunk. A week had passed. And still the gods had taken.

Possession. Obsession. Communion.

Now, only silence remained.

They held each other as the divine tide slowly pulled away. The lion no longer growled. The serpent no longer hissed. A deep quiet had settled between their ribs, as if the storm had rolled on… for now.

Elena wept. Shaking. Bones rattling beneath skin.

"I didn't know," she sobbed, forehead pressed to his chest. "I didn't know the price would be you, too."

Her guilt was vast. It clawed up her throat. It ate her from within. She had thought herself brave. She had made the choice for love. But she hadn't known how far the gods would reach. How much they would take.

Niegal could only hold her.

His arms still trembled, but his voice was steady.

"I'm here," he whispered, voice thick with exhaustion. "I'll always be here. Gods be damned."

And then-

Elena froze.

Her face paled. Her hand gripped her stomach.

A wave of nausea surged through her, sudden and unmistakable. Her gut clenched. Her breath caught.

Niegal felt it, too.

They both reached down, trembling fingers pressing lightly to her belly.

There.

Flicker.

Something stirred.

A spark of life.

Not just magic.

Not just divine residue.

A heartbeat.

Real. Present. Growing.

Elena's mouth parted. She let out a sound between a sob and a laugh.

Niegal was already crying.

"Gods," he whispered. "Gods- no. This is ours."

He looked at her, fierce and wild. Determination flaring in his eyes. "This is our child. Do you hear me? I don't care what serpent or lion or god claims it. This child is ours, Elena."

She nodded, breathless. "Ours."

The serpent stirred.

Unhappy. Furious.

It twisted under her skin. A low growl echoed in her bones.

But she ignored it.

For the first time since her resurrection, she truly ignored it.

She placed her hand protectively over her abdomen.

Niegal's hand joined hers.

Their foreheads met.

They cried, yes.

But they also clung.

To hope.

To life.

To love.

To each other.

Gods be damned.

Outside the cottage, the sanctuary had gone still.

Then-

a wail.

A child's cry, sharp and high and heartbreaking.

Esperanza, asleep for days, had awakened.

And she screamed.

Aurora ran to her, arms open. But the child didn't reach for her.

She only pointed.

To the cottage.

Where two gods had taken what they desired.

And left a new storm behind.