The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 165

Tyson grinned. “That’s my kid.”

Talon puffed his chest. “Of course our baby is powerful.”

Toren ignored both of them, stroking my hair. “Easy, starlight.”

The doctor wiped sweat from his forehead and tried again — more cautiously this time.

“Okay. Yes. Yes. There it is—heartbeat!”

He frowned.

Then leaned closer.

Then closer.

Then shoved the stethoscope deeper into his ears.

“…Oh.”

Tyson stiffened. “What do you mean oh?”

“Oh is never good,” Talon added.

The doctor raised a hand. “Calm down—”

All three Alphas growled.

“OKAY NOT CALMING DOWN,” the doctor squeaked. “BUT—listen—this is… interesting.”

He cleared his throat dramatically.

“The heartbeat is strong. Very strong. Stronger than any wolf fetus I’ve ever heard. Stronger than most warriors. Honestly, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the kid is doing push-ups in there.”

I blinked. “…Is that a normal medical observation?”

“No!” he snapped. “Nothing about this is normal! I’m—I'm genuinely terrified!”

Talon smirked. “Our baby is exceptional.”

“Oh, congratulations,” the doctor deadpanned. “Your child might bench-press me at birth. Fantastic.”

The doctor dug through his medical bag like he was searching for divine courage, found none, and sighed like a dying man.

“Okay,” he said, rubbing his face, “before we start, I have questions.”

Toren immediately stiffened. “Questions about what?”

“Her,” the doctor said, pointing straight at me like I was a ticking bomb.

Tyson growled. “Watch the finger, Doc.”

The doctor yanked his hand back like he’d touched a stove.

“Yes, yes — big scary Alphas, understood. But if you want me to keep Luna Kira alive, then I need to know things.”

Toren nodded once, still glaring.

“Ask,” he said.

The doctor cleared his throat, pulling out a small notepad like he was conducting an interview with a dragon.

“Alright, Luna. How’s your appetite?”

I paused mid–peanut-butter-and-pickle memory and muttered, “Uh… intense.”

“Define intense.”

Tyson smirked. “She ate half a jar of peanut butter, a whole pickle jar, and two sandwiches in fifteen minutes.”

The doctor blinked. “…Okay. How about tiredness?”

“Always,” I groaned. “Everything aches.”

“That’s normal,” the doctor said.

“Is puking normal?” I asked.

“Did you puke?”

“Yes.”

“Normal.”

“What about screaming at everyone and crying —”

“That’s pregnancy. Also trauma. Also this entire apocalypse situation you all have going on.”

“Fair.”

He made a note.

“Any dizziness?”

“Sometimes.”

“Any weird cravings?”

Talon snorted. “Did you miss the part about peanut butter pickles?”

The doctor sighed like a man regretting his life choices. “Right. Next. Have you felt any… energy surges?”

All three Alphas stared at me so hard I wanted to crawl under the bed.

I cleared my throat. “Maybe.”

“She matched a shapeshifter’s scream and knocked it out cold,” Toren said flatly.

“She lifted an entire clearing’s worth of bodies into the air with her mind,” Tyson added.

“She nearly killed me and Toren with the scream,” Talon said proudly.

The doctor blinked repeatedly.

“…Okay,” he whispered. “So the pregnancy is… active.”

I stared. “Active?”

“That’s doctor-code for ‘your baby is doing weird shit,’ right?” Tyson muttered.

“Yes,” the doctor admitted.

The doctor pulled out a compact ultrasound machine.

I stared.

Toren stared.

Tyson stared.

Talon asked, “Is… that safe?”

The doctor answered without looking up. “It’s either this or I guess we can hold the fetus up to a candle like a pumpkin carving.”

Tyson stiffened. “Use the machine.”

“Good choice.”

The doctor set up the machine like he was defusing a bomb.

“Lie back,” he said shakily.

I did.

Toren held my hand.

Tyson stood at my feet like a guard dog.

Talon hovered near my head like a worried shadow.

The gel hit my skin and I yelped.

“THAT IS COLD!”

“Sorry!” the doctor squeaked. “It has to be cold!”

“No it doesn’t,” Talon muttered.

The doctor ignored him and dragged the wand across my stomach.

The screen crackled.

A faint glow pulsed.

The doctor frowned.

Moved the wand lower.

Then higher.

Then to the left.

Then to the right.

Then he froze.

“Oh.”

Tyson leaned forward. “What do you mean oh?”

The doctor said nothing.

Just stared at the screen.

Toren’s voice was a deadly calm rumble. “Doctor. Explain.”

The doctor swallowed so hard I heard it.

“Okay,” he whispered. “So the good news… is that the pregnancy is healthy.”

“And the bad news?” Talon asked.

The doctor smiled weakly.

“W-well… It’s going to be a fast pregnancy.”

“How fast?” I asked nervously.

He hesitated. “Your… baby is already much larger than it should be at this stage.”

I blinked. “Already?”

“Already,” he said. “Which means we’re dealing with an accelerated ancient-bloodline gestation. I’d say five months… maybe less.”

“Less?!” Tyson barked.

“I said maybe, don't kill me.”

I sank back, breathing hard.

Toren squeezed my hand. “We’ll figure this out.”

The doctor cleared his throat again.

“And, uh… there’s one more thing.”

Tyson stiffened. “What. Is. It.”

The doctor turned the screen toward us.

And pointed.

“To the first heartbeat. Right here.”

I exhaled shakily in relief.

Then he pointed again.

“And the second heartbeat. Right here.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

Then he pointed again.

“And the third heartbeat… riiiiight here.”

I sat bolt upright.

“WHAT?!”

Tyson’s jaw hit the floor.

Talon made a choking noise.

Toren blinked like his brain had just blue-screened.

The doctor held up both hands.

“You’re having triplets.”

My mouth dropped open.

Talon flopped onto the bed beside me, whispering, “Firefly… what did you do?”

Tyson sank to his knees.

Toren actually staggered.

The doctor nodded grimly.

“Three babies. Three heartbeats. Three ancient-bloodline fetuses. No wonder you’re hungry. You’re feeding three magical powerhouses.”

I squeaked, “THREE?!”

Tyson whispered, “Moonshine… I didn’t even know we were trying that hard…”

Toren muttered, “I need water.”

Talon covered his face. “Oh gods, I’m gonna be a dad cubed.”

The doctor clapped his hands, startling us all.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” he said cheerfully, then added under his breath, “Oh gods, this is going to kill me.”

I lay back, staring at the ceiling.

Triplets.

Three babies.

Three ancient bloodline babies.

My voice was tiny.

“…I need another sandwich.”

Talon lifted his head.

“I’ll get you twelve.”