Page 5 of Bedrest Blues & Otherworldly Clues (Mystical Midlife in Maine #17)

I watched as my friends detailed an intricate protection plan that rotated personnel, incorporated unpredictable timing changes, and established new communication codes.

They were adapting, evolving, and protecting my family while I lay useless in bed.

And it made me want to rip all of Lyra’s hair out.

"We've also created magical blind spots," Tseki continued. "Areas that appear unguarded but are actually highly monitored. If Lyra's scouts test our defenses, we'll know exactly where they're probing."

The television on my dresser suddenly turned on by itself and began flipping rapidly through channels before shutting off again. Everyone froze, looking at me. "Sorry," I muttered, feeling the babies' magic respond to my rising emotions. "That was not intentional."

Clio appeared in the doorway with a thunderous expression. "What part of 'no stress' was unclear?" she demanded, sending accusatory glares around the room. "Her magical readings just spiked dangerously."

"They needed to coordinate defense," I protested as she swept into the room and began checking my vitals. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Clio countered. Her hands hovered over my belly. "The triplets' magical signatures are fluctuating again. Your blood pressure is elevated, and there's increased activity in your uterus." She turned to the others. "Out. All of you. Now."

"Wait," I grabbed Stella's hand as she moved to leave. "One last thing. Is it possible Lyra could be watching us right now? Through something we missed?"

Jean-Marc appeared in the doorway. "Not anymore. We've established a dampening field throughout the entire house. Even if we missed something, it can't transmit out."

"Good," I murmured, relaxing slightly.

Aidon looked reluctantly back over his shoulder as they all filed out.

Clio began mixing a potion from the supplies she'd set up on my dresser.

"I know it's difficult," she began in a tone that softened as she worked.

"But you need to understand that your emotional state directly affects the babies. When you become stressed or agitated?—"

"Their magic responds in kind," I finished for her. "I know, I know."

"Then know this, too," she said, handing me a glass of something that smelled like lavender and tasted like chalk.

"When I say this is dangerous, I'm not exaggerating.

These babies are unlike anything I've seen or read about.

Their combined power could potentially harm you if it continues to surge erratically. "

Fear gripped me. "Harm me how?"

"Magical burnout at best. At worst..." She paused. "Let's just say there's a reason why multiple magical pregnancies are rare, even among goddesses."

The gravity of her words settled over me like a cold shroud. This wasn't just about keeping me comfortable or being overly cautious. The stakes were literally life or death. "I'll behave," I promised. I suddenly felt very small against the enormity of what my body was attempting to accomplish.

Clio nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, I'm going to place a mild sedative charm around your bed. It won't affect the babies, but it will help dampen your magical responses when you're feeling emotional."

After she finished her work and left, I lay alone in the quiet room, listening to the muffled sounds of activity throughout the house. Voices drifted up from downstairs. There was no mistaking Hades’s voice as he gave instructions. Or Nana complaining loudly about ‘that witch's nerve’.

Life was continuing without me. Important decisions were being made. Battles were being prepared for. And I was relegated to the sidelines while carrying the most precious cargo of all.

I stared at the ceiling until my eyelids grew heavy.

The frustration of my forced inactivity followed me even into my dreams. Thoughts about war councils and strategy sessions swirled in my mind as I drifted off.

Everyone's voices were clear except my own.

It was muffled behind an invisible barrier.

The next morning brought no reprieve. I'd managed to shower—a supervised event that left me feeling more like a child than a grown woman about to give birth to triplets—and was back in bed, staring at the ceiling once more.

The book in my lap remained unopened. I had no interest in reading about proper breastfeeding positions or the debate between cloth and disposable diapers.

Not when I needed to help protect my family.

A soft knock preceded Mom's entrance. She carried a tray with breakfast and fresh tea. Her smile was warm, but her eyes were watchful. "How are you feeling?" she asked, setting the tray across my lap. “Aside from bored to tears.”

"Like a useless whale," I replied, poking at the scrambled eggs on the plate without enthusiasm. "Is there any news?"

She sat beside me, smoothing my hair back in that maternal gesture that had always brought me comfort.

"Nina and Jean-Marc removed three more surveillance devices this morning. Aidon and Hades cleansed two more anchor points overnight. The poison isn’t seeping through as much anymore.

Stella's protective circles are holding steady. "

I nodded, absorbing the information while fighting the urge to demand more details. "And Lyra?"

"No sign of her yet," Mom said carefully. "But Murtagh's contacts reported unusual activity in the old ruins to the north. We're monitoring it."

I pushed the tray aside. I wasn’t hungry. "I should be helping, Mom. I feel like I'm abandoning everyone."

"Oh, sweetheart." She took my hand, squeezing gently. "You're doing the most important job of all."

"So, everyone keeps telling me," I grumbled. "But it doesn't feel that way when I'm up here while everyone else is risking their lives."

Mom's expression grew serious. "Phoebe, look at me." She waited until I met her eyes. "Do you remember what you told me when I was recovering after Lyra's experiments? When I was furious about being out of control, yet unable to leave my room?"

I winced at the memory. "That healing was its own kind of battle. That sometimes the bravest thing we can do is allow ourselves to be vulnerable and accept help."

"Exactly." Her smile was knowing. "Not so easy when you're on the receiving end, is it?"

Before I could respond, the glass of water on my nightstand began to rise into the air. Mom and I watched as it hovered and spun slowly before settling back down with a soft clink. "They're active today," I murmured, placing a hand on my belly where I could feel the triplets shifting restlessly.

"They sense your frustration," Mom noted. "You've always been a doer. You don’t do rest and relaxation very well. They're picking up on that energy."

As if to prove her point, the curtains suddenly swept closed, then flew open again. The lamp beside the bed flickered on and off three times in rapid succession. "It's okay," I sighed. "Time to calm down."

Mom laughed, the sound brightening the room more effectively than any magical surge. "Consider this practice for when they come. You’re going to be challenged like never before. If one magical baby can turn a household upside down, imagine what three will do."

The thought was both terrifying and oddly comforting. My children were already showing their personalities and power. And my job—my most important job—was to bring them safely into this world. No matter how difficult the path.

A commotion from downstairs interrupted our conversation. Raised voices, the sound of running feet, and Aidon's commanding tone cut through it all. Mom rose immediately. She was alert and aware. "Stay here," she ordered, heading for the door .

"As if I have a choice," I muttered while my heart raced as she disappeared into the hallway.

The minutes stretched like hours as I strained to hear what was happening. Fragments of conversation drifted up. There was something about boundaries and detection spells. Aidon's voice was tense with controlled anger. Hades issued even more commands, and Stella was asking rapid-fire questions.

My imagination conjured worst-case scenarios.

Lyra had returned. The wards had failed completely.

And one of our protectors had been injured or captured.

Without conscious thought, I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

My oversized belly made the movement awkward, but determination drove me forward.

I had just managed to stand when the door swung open and Aidon appeared. His expression became thunderous.

"What are you doing?" he demanded as he rushed to my side and guided me back to bed despite my protests.

"What's happening?" I countered, refusing to lie down again. "I heard voices."

His jaw clenched, but he recognized the stubborn set of my chin. "Murtagh's scouts detected movement at the property boundary. Something tried to breach the outer layer of wards."

"Something? Not someone?" I clarified.

"It wasn’t mundie, witch, or shifter," he clarified. "The magical signature was similar to those wolf creatures Lyra brought before. Although he said they have evolved somehow, if that’s the case."

A chill ran through me. "She's testing our defenses."

"Yes. But we were ready." His expression softened slightly. "The new patrol system Stella and Tseki designed worked perfectly. Whatever it was retreated before we could capture it."

Relief washed over me, followed immediately by frustration. "I should have been there."

"Phoebe." Aidon took my hands in his and looked into my eyes.

"I know this is difficult for you. Being sidelined goes against everything you are.

But right now, in this moment, you have no choice.

Do you know how frustrated I feel that I cannot protect our children?

All I can do is ensure nothing reaches you while leaving the rest to you. "

The fierce love in his eyes momentarily silenced my protests. This was Aidon, Lord of Shadows, son of the Underworld, the most formidable protector I could imagine. And he was terrified. Not of Lyra or her creatures, but of losing me and our unborn children.

I let him ease me back against the pillows, conceding this battle even as my mind raced with plans and possibilities. Magical bedrest didn't mean I was completely powerless. I couldn't cast spells or join patrols, but I still had my mind, my knowledge, and my experience.

"Tell me everything you know about these new creatures," I said, settling into what Stella called my strategy mode. "If Lyra's evolving her attack, we need to adapt our defenses."

For the first time in three days, I felt a sense of purpose blooming within me.

I might be confined to this bed, but I refused to be confined in my thinking.

If direct action were forbidden, then I would find other ways to contribute.

The triplets' magic swirled contentedly inside me, as if approving of this new approach.

Aidon watched for random levitations or flickering lights. There were none. I’d accepted that my world had narrowed to this bedroom. But within those constraints, I was still Phoebe, still a Pleiades witch, still part of this fight. And I would find a way to help win it, rules or no rules.