Flash Marriage: In His Eyes-Chapter 303: A Warrior

–Lore–

I had nightmares.

I fell asleep, woke up, then fell asleep again—over and over. I didn’t bother eating, but my girlfriend insisted I at least drink water, sometimes a glass of milk. This time, she snuggled closer to me, warm and stubborn. We both missed dinner—we were too sleepy, too drained to even move.

I still couldn’t tell her what happened.

I couldn’t tell her that one of our agents put a gun to his head after confessing.

I glanced at the clock. It’s exactly midnight.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

She stayed beside me, her head pillowing my chest. It felt unreal—like one of my old delusions, the fantasies I never thought would happen. And yet, here she was. This close.

Her hair smelled like mint and flowers.

Divine.

"Yeah... a little," she said as she sat up, running her fingers through her hair. She looked unfairly beautiful. "You know what? Kai visited this room so many times just to make sure we didn’t do anything besides sleeping."

"He’s very protective."

She slipped off the bed and stretched.

"Let’s go eat?"

I put on my slippers and took her hand. We headed downstairs to the kitchen. She sat while I opened the fridge.

"Hey," she pointed. "They left us food."

I lifted the dome cover. Then another. Perfect portions—clearly meant for us. I placed the first plate in the microwave, served it to her, then heated the second. We sat side by side.

"Get drinks first," she nudged me.

I went to the cooler, grabbed what she liked, opened the cap, and handed it to her.

"Mmm," she hummed after tasting the diced wagyu, salmon slices, vegetables, quinoa standing in for rice. "This is good."

"It is," I agreed.

We ate in comfortable silence and finished everything. She insisted on washing the dishes. I watched her with quiet pride.

"Lore."

Livana’s voice nearly startled us. I turned as she tilted her head slightly.

"I want to speak with you privately."

"Sure," I stood. "Later, babe."

"Mm," Alyssa nodded.

I followed Livana to her office. She pulled out a stack of documents.

"I’ll be out of the country," she said. "I know you still have school, but can I call you anytime?"

"Yes. Of course." No hesitation.

Also... I’d need more funds if I wanted a grand wedding someday—even if it was still years away.

She slid one document toward me.

I flipped it open.

Properties.

"It’ll be your gift," she said. "Yours."

"A property?"

"I have several. Choose anywhere you want to settle with Alyssa. I know you’re planning to marry her. You’ve already started setting funds aside..."

I tilted my head, still puzzled. I could buy my own place—but not something like this.

"Aly doesn’t really like mansions," Livana continued. "She just wants a place where everyone she loves can gather. Consider this your payment for the upcoming mission. One down from your bucket list."

I couldn’t stop myself from grinning.

"Thank you."

"Choose whatever you want."

I nodded as she sat down.

"I’ll be visiting a few sites," she said with a tired yawn. "It’ll be dangerous."

"The lab?" I asked. "Are you going there?"

It had been months since she last visited, though I knew she never truly stopped operating it.

Some information had leaked through Kenzo. Rumors spread fast—whispers that Livana was creating armies.

Undead ones.

Honestly, that rumor was better than the truth they could’ve imagined. Worse than clones.

When Livana heard about it, I think something clicked in her mind.

After all... they had just handed an evil genius a very tempting idea.

–Logan–

Watching her crest again and again during our nightly lovemaking left me satisfied in a way sleep never could. I helped her dress, steady hands, familiar motions. It had been a productive day—physically, emotionally—and exhaustion took me quickly once I lay beside her. I knew she had fallen asleep too.

That’s why the shift in the mattress woke me.

The bed dipped, subtle but wrong. I opened my eyes and saw Jane sitting upright. At first, I thought she was heading to the bathroom—but she didn’t move. She just sat there, still, distant. Something in my chest tightened.

"Babe," I called softly.

She stood and walked toward the door.

I followed, sleep clinging to me, unease sharpening my senses. She went straight to the kitchen, directly toward the drawer where the knives were kept.

I reached her in two strides and wrapped my arms around her. She gasped, startled, but didn’t resist. I turned her gently, kissed her cheek, then lifted her into my arms like she weighed nothing.

She looped her arms around my neck. I kissed her forehead.

"I’m afraid of going on the trip," she murmured.

"I know," I said quietly. "But you won’t be alone. Damon will be there. So will Damien."

I couldn’t go with her—Livana needed me—but I needed her to hear that she’d be safe.

I carried her back to bed, straightened the rug she’d disturbed, then lay down and pulled her into my arms, locking her there like an anchor.

"Alright," I whispered. "Go back to sleep."

I stayed awake until her breathing evened out, until I felt the tension leave her body. I didn’t loosen my hold. I never do when she’s like this.

It’s been happening more often lately—since Alyssa’s birthday, since the dead cat in the box. She’s been exhausting herself ever since, moving nonstop through the mansion: laundry, cooking, cleaning. A place this big always has something left undone, and she keeps trying to outrun what’s inside her.

"I love you," I whispered.

She answered with a soft snore, a half-mumbled sound in her sleep.

I smiled, tightened my arms around her, and buried my face in the warm curve of her neck—holding on, guarding her dreams, not letting go.

–Deanne–

I can’t sleep.

My husband is exhausted. He pampered me nonstop tonight—gentle hands, quiet devotion, the kind that drains a man without him even realizing it. And now, here I am, back in the nest, assisting Livana and a handful of agents.

Work never really sleeps.

I’m handling matters that require my expertise in law—reviewing our nests, checking structural and legal loopholes, cross-referencing cases involving our agents. It’s a headache, but I’m the director of our law firm. Responsibility doesn’t pause just because I’m pregnant.

Then—a red light blares.

A warning.

One of our properties is at risk of being breached.

I pull the screen closer. It’s the house that once served as our very first main nest.

Livana is already issuing commands—her voice precise, controlled, lethal in its calm. It takes hours before everything is secured: the property, the data, our people.

When it’s finally contained, she stands straight.

"Mother, I’ll be leaving. Please tell Commander White to prepare my jet."

"I’m on it."

"And send Logan before Damon leaves the country," she adds, turning to me.

"Got it," I nod, already typing. "Just call me if you need anything."

"Sure."

She leaves with authority etched into every step—face unreadable, posture sharp. A warrior walking straight into war.

My Queen was never the kind who sat comfortably on a throne. I know her too well. She prefers the field.

I glance at Auntie.

"She grows fiercer every day," I murmur.

"Yes," Aunt Ines chuckles softly. "She does."

Once I finish my work, Aunt Ines is still busy. I head to my bedroom—far from the nest. My body feels heavy as I climb onto the bed, sitting for a moment just to catch my breath.

Damn. Pregnancy is brutal.

My husband is asleep, snoring softly—peaceful, worn out from work. I lean down and kiss his lips. He doesn’t wake, just sighs.

I shift the maternity pillow aside and snuggle into his chest.

He wraps his arms around me instinctively, pulling me close. I meant to cuddle him—but he cuddles me, shoving his face into my chest, rubbing my sides like he’s claiming warmth.

Then—

A sharp kick.

I wince. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Ow."

He groans teasingly, half-asleep. "Why does our baby need to kick like that?"

"If it’s a boy," I say lightly, "he’ll be clingy. Just look at Sky."

He grins.

"I was praying for a baby girl." He kisses my chin.

We still haven’t done the ultrasound for the gender. I already plan to bring Alyssa with us—she’ll know instantly. She even offered to throw the party.

"I love you," he mutters.

"I love you too," I smile, rubbing his back. "Sleep more. I know you’re tired."

"You are too," he murmurs, kissing my lips.

We stay like that for a while. No cramps. Just warmth. Safe. Anchored.

Then he stiffens slightly.

I realize he is the one getting cramps.

I must be heavier than I think—but he doesn’t move.

So I do.

As soon as I shift away, he stares at the ceiling.

"Get my pillow, please," I say.

"I can’t move."

I laugh and smack his arm. He groans, rolls, and grabs the pillow anyway.

"I think I’m getting too old," he mutters, rubbing his back as he helps me settle again.

My loving husband.

"I feel a little hungry," I add.

He freezes.

Then he moves quickly—opening the snack drawer, pulling out non-sweet cookies. From the fridge, he grabs a small oat milk and hands both to me.

"That’s it, alright?" he says. "Not because I’m controlling your food—but your boss threatened me."

"Oh."

I stare at the snacks. Of course—he picked the ones without sugar.

I lean back against my pillows, take small bites. He watches me closely.

"What?" he asks.

I pout at him.