Chapter 97

Alistair’s POV

Lyra insisted I stay home with her all day. From dawn until now, we’d been exploring every corner of the compound’s greenhouse, admiring the strange bioluminescent flora she loved so much. Vines draped overhead, their glowing blossoms painting the walkway in soft blues and greens.

“Aren’t you tired?” I asked, noticing the perspiration beading on her forehead as we wandered among the softly humming plants.

She brushed stray hair from her face and shook her head. “No. I just feel hot,” she replied, fanning herself playfully.

I smiled. Watching her find joy in these odd, radiant flowers was a pleasure in itself. We strolled in companionable silence for a few minutes, pointing out jeweled petals and marvelling at how each plant glowed more brilliantly than the last.

Then, out of the blue, she looked at me with those earnest hazel eyes and asked, “What would you name our baby?”

I paused beside a cluster of orchids whose petals pul