Yuno had never felt so many eyes on him — not even when he was declared a candidate for the Spade Kingdom throne.
But this was different.
Now, it wasn't just his name or title they wanted.
It was what he carried.
The child growing inside him.
He stood on a quiet balcony at the Black Bulls' hideout, one hand resting gently on his stomach. The wind brushed his hair, as if comforting him. His magic had changed — not weaker, not stronger, just… deeper. It pulsed in rhythm with another.
Inside, another heartbeat was growing.
Theirs.
Inside the War Room – Black Bulls HQ
The Black Bulls were never known for following rules — and tonight was no exception.
They'd gathered in a war room made of mismatched chairs and crumpled maps, fueled by concern and a kind of furious protectiveness rarely seen even among seasoned captains.
"Nobles are already whispering about bloodlines," Vanessa said, biting off the cork of a wine bottle. "One of them actually said the baby might disrupt inheritance protocols."
"Sounds like something to celebrate," Luck chimed, fists sparking with lightning.
Asta stood in the middle, arms crossed, face hard.
"They're not taking him," he said. "Or the baby."
Yami leaned against the wall, smoke curling from his cigarette. "If they try… we cut 'em down. Real simple."
Magna cracked his knuckles. "It's not just threats. I heard rumors they're forming a noble faction — and one of 'em wants to petition the Parliament to force a separation between Asta and Yuno. Says their bond's 'unnatural.'"
Asta's fist slammed the table.
"No one is pulling us apart."
The room fell silent.
He looked at them, jaw tight.
"I don't care what law, tradition, or bloodline says. Yuno is mine. And that baby is ours. If they want to challenge that…"
He turned toward the door.
"…they'll find out just how much anti-magic I've got left."
Later That Night
Yuno was already in bed when Asta returned to their room — shirt half-unbuttoned, his hair still wind-tossed from patrol.
"Rough day?" Yuno asked quietly.
Asta climbed into bed behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, hand resting over the swell that hadn't even started to show yet — but would.
"They want to separate us," he murmured into Yuno's neck. "Not just politically. Physically."
Yuno turned slightly, eyes searching his. "And you're scared."
"No," Asta whispered. "I'm angry."
Yuno leaned into him, voice low. "You always knew how to fight for what you love."
Asta kissed the shell of his ear. "I don't fight for what I love…"
His voice dropped lower.
"I fight for who I love."
Their mouths met — slow at first, aching with emotion. Asta pulled Yuno fully into his arms, fingers exploring, possessive but careful.
The night deepened into something far more intimate — quiet moans, whispered names, trembling hands.
Asta worshipped every part of him.
Especially now — now that Yuno carried something precious.
When it was over, Yuno lay breathless, head on Asta's chest, and said quietly:
"They won't win, will they?"
Asta kissed his hair, gently stroking over his lower abdomen.
"No," he said. "Not while I'm breathing."