I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 294: Aliyah

When Elysia had been in labor, Lara had watched Malvoria pace the halls like a demon queen about to go to war.

She’d thought it was a bit dramatic, honestly. Exhausting. Maybe even a little soft.

Now, running through Malvoria’s castle barefoot, shirt half-buttoned, and shouting like the floor was on fire, Lara understood everything.

This wasn’t stress.

This was terror wrapped in urgency, dressed in love.

"SOMEONE GET THE HEALER!"

She slammed into the side of a tapestry, barely caught her balance, and shoved open the nearest door.

Raveth blinked up from a sofa, mid-nap. "Are we under attack again?"

"No—yes—I MEAN SARISA’S IN LABOR!"

Raveth was instantly on her feet. "Did the baby explode or—?"

"She’s wet and angry and sitting on a pillow and I don’t know what happens next!"

That got Raveth moving.

Lara was already racing down the next corridor.

"VEYLYRA! MALVORIA! ELYSIA!"

Doors flew open. Someone cursed in a far wing. A servant dropped a tray.

"She’s early!" Elysia called, poking her head out of Kaelith’s room.

"She’s very wet," Lara shouted. "Is that supposed to happen?!"

Elysia didn’t waste time. She scooped up Kaelith, who blinked sleepily and mumbled, "Mama," before promptly drooling onto Elysia’s shoulder.

Malvoria was next, already strapping on boots with the grim focus of someone heading to battle.

"I’ll fetch the healer," she said. "You take her to the nursing suite."

"WHAT SUITE?" Lara demanded, hands flailing.

"The room with the soft lamps and the enchanted towels!" Veylira barked as she emerged from a study, looking far too composed.

"You KNEW this would happen soon?"

"I had a feeling."

"And you didn’t TELL ME?"

"I wanted to see you run like this," she said, utterly deadpan.

Lara gaped.

Then spun and sprinted back toward Sarisa’s chambers.

Sarisa was exactly where she’d been left—on the sofa, legs braced apart, gown bunched around her hips, and glaring at the floor like it owed her an apology.

"Welcome back," she hissed as Lara skidded in. "Still panicking?"

"I brought... people," Lara huffed.

"Is the floor made of knives? No? THEN PICK ME UP."

Lara hesitated.

"LARA."

"Yes, okay, COMING."

It took everything in her not to drop Sarisa on the way to the nursing room.

She held her awkwardly too tight, too careful because even though Sarisa had mocked her a thousand times, now she was making those tiny breathless sounds and curling one hand into Lara’s tunic like she needed her.

And that?

That undid something in Lara’s chest.

The nursing suite had been designed by Elysia. It was warm, cozy, and full of thick pillows, magic-warmed stone, and precisely the kind of sacred peace that didn’t match the scene unfolding inside it now.

Because as soon as they entered, chaos resumed.

"Lay her down! Gently!"

"She’s yelling at me!"

"She’s allowed! She’s in labor!"

The healer arrived seconds late an ancient elf with crystal-tipped gloves, a voice like thunder wrapped in velvet, and zero tolerance for nonsense.

"Everyone OUT unless you’re holding towels, catching babies, or the partner!"

Everyone turned to Lara.

She froze. "I’m... the partner?"

Sarisa let out a long, painful groan and said, "YES, YOU BLOODY ARE!"

"Oh. Okay. Alright. Yes. Staying. Present."

Elysia handed her a cool cloth and mouthed, You’ve got this, before sweeping out with Kaelith clinging to her collar.

And then, for the first time in her life, Lara was alone in a room full of sacred power, screaming pain, glowing runes... and the one person she never wanted to see hurt.

Sarisa.

She was trying to stay still, trying to breathe, but another wave hit and she gasped.

Lara knelt at her side instantly.

"You’re doing amazing."

"I feel like I’m being ripped open."

"You look—well, let’s focus on how strong you are."

"GODS."

Another contraction.

Lara held her hand through it, not caring that Sarisa nearly crushed her bones.

Time blurred.

The healer moved with terrifying calm, checking the runes, laying enchantments, guiding breath with firm, clipped instructions.

"Push."

"I am pushing!"

Lara pressed a kiss to Sarisa’s temple. "You’ve handled worse."

"No, I HAVEN’T."

"That priest that one time—"

"He didn’t come out of me!"

Lara shut up.

Sarisa screamed again. Her hand clawed at the sheets, at Lara, at the air. Magic surged in the roomwhite and gold and flickering at the edges of the stone like starlight threatening to shatter.

Lara whispered, "You’re not alone. You’re not."

And Sarisa, breath ragged, nodded once.

Then the healer’s voice: "I see her. One more push. Steady. Now."

Lara braced her free hand on the sheets, heart thundering.

Sarisa gave one last cry, furious, raw, powerful.

And then it happened.

The air shifted.

The pain broke.

And a sound pierced the silence—

Not a scream.

A wail.

Loud. Vibrant. Furious.

Life.

The healer smiled. "She’s here."

Sarisa was shaking. Eyes wide. Tears falling.

Lara couldn’t breathe.

And then there she was.

Their daughter.

Tiny. Alive.

Brown skin. Wisps of black hair streaked with white. A pair of small, curling black horns on her brow. And when she blinked, her eyes gleamed—

Red.

Lara’s red.

The healer cleaned her quickly, wrapped her in a soft blanket, and passed her gently to Sarisa.

And Sarisa, still trembling, held her to her chest and whispered, voice breaking with everything she had.

"Welcome, Aliyah."

The name settled over the room like a soft spell ancient and new, strong and delicate.

Sarisa cradled the newborn against her chest, her tears falling freely now, tracing slow lines over flushed cheeks.

She kissed the baby’s forehead with trembling lips, whispering her name again and again like it was a prayer.

Lara sat frozen beside them.

Aliyah.

The baby let out a softer cry—less a wail, more a protest. Her tiny fists waved, horns barely peeking from her fine black curls.

One streak of white caught the candlelight, and her red eyes blinked open, searching, blinking, blinking again.

Lara reached out without thinking.

Sarisa didn’t stop her.

Lara’s fingers brushed the baby’s hand.

Aliyah gripped it immediately.

Tight. Fierce. Alive.

"Oh," Lara breathed.

That was it. The end of doubt. The collapse of all her old walls, crumbling like sand under this tiny, perfect pressure. She blinked quickly, overwhelmed.

"She’s... perfect," Lara murmured, voice cracking.

"She’s ours," Sarisa whispered.

Author’s Note

To everyone who fell in love with Lara the reckless warrior, the sharp-tongued protector, the stubborn heartbreaker who swore she’d never marry...

Guess what?

She’s getting her own story. And this time, she won’t be able to run.

After everything that happened in Elysia and Malvoria’s tale, Lara stepped back into the shadows, raising her daughter Aliyah beside Sarisa, mostly in peace. But time doesn’t stop, and neither do royal politics.

Five years have passed since Aliyah’s birth.

And now, the Celestial Queen has made her move.

She’s getting older. Preparing to abdicate. And she’s chosen her successor: Sarisa.

But there’s a condition—one written in old tradition, enforced by a court that values appearances as much as power:

Sarisa must marry.

And not just anyone. The Queen has found a suitable match. A dignified, noble, safe choice.

Someone who isn’t Lara.

No one asked Lara what she thought. No one expected her to react. But she does.

Oh, she will.

Jealousy. Confusion. Longing. And maybe for the first time in her chaotic life fear.

Because this time, Lara might actually lose the woman she never admitted she loved.

This won’t be easy. It’s a slow-burn. Full of glances held too long, soft nights, arguments, and everything Lara doesn’t know how to say.

All while they raise the most adorable, chaotic little demon-Celestial hybrid: Aliyah, whose red eyes miss nothing.

And this time, Lara is going to learn what it means to surrender.

To one person. To one life. And maybe, just maybe...

To forever.