Idris Point of View

"His face looks like a camel getting a plastic surgery to become a horse but instead it went wrong and became something that looks like camel but with a flat face?" Owen choked and looked at me in disbelief.

"Sir, Mr. Valen, even though I had a minor degree in graphic arts, I might not be the talented person to create a face using that description... really." His face almost looked like a crying emoji.

"You cannot?" I confirmed again. I mean, heck... even I know that to create a human face that looks like a damaged camel on the way to become a horse is... impossible.

"Mr. Valen, I'm sorry but my imagination is only so much that such... astounding project is out of my... league." I waved my hand, accepting his apology as I know it is indeed hard to find a person with such a description.

The thing that is giving me headache is that demon girl doesn't even have a simple surveillance camera in her workplace. That clue is gone.

"Obviously, Shadowbane is a fake name." Owen wondered out loud what I was thinking.

"That's right. Owen, keep tabs on people around me, good, bad and grey do not miss anyone. Mainly young people with handsome flattened camel like faces. And, do not forget to not down those who are having bad time these days."

"Yes sir. Right on it." After taking on the orders, Owen left my office with a slight skip in his steps.

According to what demon girl said, that guy Shadowbane must be having a very difficult time as well. Let's see who it is.

After Owen left, I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples as I tried to make sense of this circus. A man with a face like a plastic-surgery-failed camel horse hybrid?

The world has truly become a bizarre place. But then again, ever since she came into my life, my world has been flipped, shaken, and reassembled into something I can barely recognize.

And speaking of her—

I glanced at the calendar on the edge of my desk, and a surge of realization hit me.

Tomorrow.

Demon girl's doctor appointment.

She was officially entering the fifth month of her pregnancy. It was supposed to be the big reveal - the gender ultrasound, the moment that most expectant parents would get teary-eyed over.

But of course, with her, nothing was ever simple. Even growing life inside her seemed to come with the chaos of a mythological storm.

The private hospital owned by my family stood like an ivory fortress in the middle of the city—quiet, immaculate, and guarded by professionalism. Everything about it exuded order, which was the exact opposite of what I felt as I stepped out of the car and walked beside Demon girl.

She moved at an unhurried pace, one hand resting lightly on her stomach like it belonged there. And it did, in some strange, cosmic way that still hadn't fully clicked in my brain.

I glanced at her as we entered the lobby. She looked composed. Serene, even. Her expression was unreadable but definitely not worried.

Meanwhile, I had gone through three stages of internal panic before breakfast.

"Do you always look this calm before an ultrasound?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light, though my shoulders were stiff under the weight of what-ifs.

I mean, look at me; I'm the father and I'm already sweating in unknown places of my body and here she is, the mother, standing there just fine and very relaxed, with an ever present grin on her face and enjoying a cup of oats milkshake that she started to love these days.

"I don't know, this is my first time getting pregnant, grrrgal. So, I'm just... being expectant and hopeful for bright pregnancy future. Why think about unknown and stress myself and my baby?" Her words are like a slap on my face.

These are the words I usually tell people to encourage them in corporate fields. Now, I'm hearing them from my own demon wife who is known for speaking wise words very rarely.

Times change indeed.

We took the private elevator to the uppermost floor, the one reserved for high-profile patients, paranoid billionaires, and now, apparently, us.

Demon girl sipped her oat milkshake like she was headed to a spa instead of an OB-GYN's office. I, on the other hand, had already chewed through the inside of my cheek and possibly aged five years since breakfast.

She kept looking at me with strange eyes and finally, when I couldn't take it anymore, I spoke "I'm allowed to be nervous."

"I know. It's cute," she said, sipping again. Slurp.

"Don't say cute." I am handsome, dashing, charming and whatnot but not cute. That is a feminine description reserved for women, children and very old elders.

"But it is." Another sip. "You look like a very expensive malfunctioning robot right now." I sighed loudly.

Before I could defend my dignity, the doors slid open with a hiss, and we stepped into Dr. Mirella Rowan's suite. The room was tastefully designed, like an expensive hotel decided to become a medical clinic.

Soft ambient lighting.

This made me more nervous somehow.

Dr. Rowan was already standing by the equipment, dressed in her usual steel-grey coat and eternal air of being unimpressed by absolutely everything.

"Mr. Valen," she greeted with a curt nod. "Zephyra."

After the greetings, Dr. Rowen got to her work without a word of nonsense. "Lie back. I'll begin the scan now."

Demon girl did as she was told, folding her hands behind her head like she was sunbathing on a luxury cruise. Her demeanour was so relaxed, I briefly wondered if she'd sneak in a nap.

Then came the gel. Cold. Viciously cold. Even I could feel the chills from the side.

"Wuh—Can we please microwave that next time?" Demon girl hissed.

"The gel doesn't come in seasonal packs. It is supposed to be cold so bear with it." I answered for doctor to keep the embarrassment at bay.

I stood beside the bed, hands clasped behind me like a particularly awkward museum tour guide, trying not to look nervous—which, of course, made me look even more nervous.

The screen blinked to life.

At first, just static wavy grey clouds. Then, faint movement came in forming a shape. The vaguest suggestion of a being that was either a baby or an aggressively dancing dumpling.

"There's one," Dr. Rowan murmured, maneuvering the probe like a sniper adjusting their aim.

"Hey, doctor, is that an arm over there?" Demon girl asked, looking interestedly at the screen.

"Yes, it is." After the doctor confirmed, I also looked closely to have a glance at my child's limbs and face and other features.

"That looks beautiful but why do I see... one, two, three, four arms? Don't tell me my baby is going to be the next marvel hero!" Dr. Rowan was stunned by demon girl's words and not just her, even I was surprised and embarrassed.

I mean, if you see multiple arm-like things in your ultrasound is that the conclusion one comes to?

"Don't worry, Mrs. Valen. Each baby has only two standard arms."

"Each baby?" This time, I asked in surprise.

Does it mean, it is more than one baby?

Dr. Rowan didn't even blink. She continued gliding the probe with the calm detachment, "Yes," she replied, cool as ice. "Each baby."

My mouth opened. No sound came out.

Demon girl blinked once. Then leaned forward slightly, squinting at the screen like she was inspecting a suspicious restaurant bill.

"...Are you telling me there's more than one fetus inside me right now?"

"Yes."

"And by 'more than one,' we're not talking 'one and a backup?'"

"No."

"How many exactly?" she asked with disturbing calm, tilting her head.

Dr. Rowan adjusted the probe with surgical precision, and the fuzzy shapes on the screen shifted like grey jellyfish. One little creature turned slightly. Another kicked. A third... yawned?

Was that a yawn?

Can they do that?

"There are three," she said.

Demon girl turned her head to me slowly. I was already looking at her. Correction—I was staring at her, as if my eyes alone could somehow confirm whether what I just heard was real.

Three.

Triplets.

One. Two. Three little... things.

I couldn't breathe for a moment—not out of fear, not out of shock—but because something soft and warm and inexplicably heavy had just landed on my chest. Like someone dumped a basket of emotions straight into my ribcage and forgot to label them.

I opened my mouth.

Still no words.

Demon girl raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Still nothing. Apparently, fatherhood had turned me into a mute.

Then it happened—somewhere between disbelief and awe, my vision blurred slightly. 

Was I tearing up? 

No. No way. I don't cry. Valens don't cry. We sue emotions for breach of contract.

And yet...

My hand reached out without thinking. I placed it gently over hers, the one resting casually on her stomach as if it wasn't harboring an entire trio of Valen's blood and flesh.

Her face was unreadable, but not cold. Quiet. Honest.

Three.

Three tiny heartbeats. Three futures. Three people who'd call me Dad.

I was feeling so damn emotional right now and when I was so fully charged and was about to kiss demon girl for the surprise, her sudden words slapped me back into the reality.

"Hmm, three is a good lucky number. Three is good."

Seriously now?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hello Sweeties,

Next chapter is here. Enjoy!

What do you think about the chapter? Good?

Triplets? Wow! Zephyra and Idris are having three in one go. 

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Who among the triplets might be Zephy's dad?

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Lots of Love

Lady Prim