Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 165

“Kali?”

Her name leaves my mouth in a broken whisper. My heart feels like it’s about to stop, terrified of the worst terrified that she’s gone. Her body lies still–too still–and my pulse hammers violently against my ribs. I press my palm to her cheek. She’s warm, her skin pale and slick with sweat. Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t move.

“Kali, love, open your eyes. Please.” My voice cracks as I shake her gently, panic clawing at my chest. “Don’t do this to me.”

The doctor places a steady hand on my shoulder, his tone calm but firm. “Your Majesty, she’s fine. Just exhausted. Her energy was completely drained by the birth. She needs rest, nothing more.”

I stare at him, searching his face for any hint of doubt, but all I see is quiet assurance. Slowly, I exhale, the air returning to my lungs in shuddering breaths. I nod once and glance down at the tiny bundle in my arms–the living proof that everything we’ve endured was worth it.

Our son.

He’s so small, yet so full of life. His breaths come in soft, even puffs, his fingers curling around the fabric of his blanket. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so perfect.

“You’re… you’re mine,” I whisper, my throat tightening. “Mine and Kali’s.”

A shaky laugh escapes me, trembling with relief. But when I glance back at her–her chest rising and falling in shallow, fragile breaths—a wave of guilt slams into me. I never want to see her like this again. I don’t care if the kingdom demands another heir–I can’t put her through this pain again.

Even as I think it, a small, selfish ache stirs inside me. I had secretly hoped our child would be a girl–so I could treat her like a princess, spoil her rotten, and protect her from everything cruel in this world. But even that wish can’t outweigh what I feel now. I’d never trade our son for anything. Yet I know, deep down, I could never ask Kali to endure this again.

“I’m sorry, love,” I murmur softly, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. “This… this will be the only time. I can’t risk losing you.”

The baby stirs, his little mouth opening and a small sound escaping him as though he’s trying to protest. I chuckle quietly. “What? You disagree already?”

He opens his eyes then–wide, bright, impossibly green. The exact same green as Kali’s. As the late King’s.

The air leaves my lungs.

Kali’s last words before losing consciousness echo in my mind. That’s not me, Jack… that’s my father. The late King.

I shake my head slightly, forcing the thought away. “You’re just tired, Kali,” I mutter under my breath. “You didn’t mean that.” But as I stare into those eyes–those old, wise, knowing eyes–something in me falters.

The baby studies me, silent, as if he understands more than he should. My stomach twists. Goddess, what if she’s right? What if this child truly is…

1/3

A soft cough pulls me from my thoughts. I glance up to see Nora in Fury’s arins. She looks pale, her hand pressed to her belly protectively, but she’s smiling weakly.

I rise carefully, holding my son close, and take a few steps toward them. “Nora,” I say quietly, guilt threading through my voice. “I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. If you hadn’t followed your instincts…” I swallow hard. “Kali might not have made it.”

She shakes her head weakly, offering a tired smile. “It wasn’t just instinct, Your Majesty. My baby… she was kicking nonstop, like she was trying to tell me something. But the moment I came close to the Queen, the pain stopped. It’s as if she needed to be near her.”

I blink, startled. “Near her?”

Nora nods. “And I think it’s best we stay here in the palace until my delivery. Whenever I’m away, the pain returns. But when I’m near Kali… it’s like my child is at peace.‘

Her words make my pulse quicken. It’s too strange. Too precise. My gaze drops to her rounded belly, then back to the tiny boy in my arms. Nora’s baby had calmed Kali’s labor; Kali’s child was born the moment Nora touched her. The connection feels… divine.

My stomach knots as realization creeps in. Could it be the late Queen? Could she have returned through Nora’s unborn daughter? Fury and Nora’s scan had already confirmed the child’s gender—a girl.

I clear my throat. “Then you’ll stay here as long as you need. Both of you.”

Nora’s eyes soften. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Truly.”

Fury gives me a curt nod of respect, then gently leads his mate out of the room.

As the door closes behind them, the High Priest enters, robes rustling, his expression solemn until his eyes land on the baby. Then he smiles.

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