Page 80 of Reign

“And you,” he said, pulling back to look deep into my eyes, his own full of love and pride. His gaze dropped to my stomach at the same time as his hand. “Is the little bean okay?” His voice broke.

“He or she is fine.” I gripped him so hard my nails scored his skin, but I couldn’t help it. “Fire cannot hurt a child of mine. She told me she can’t.”

“You’re sure?”

I nodded.

He crushed me close, cupping the back of my head. “Thank the Mother,” he murmured into my hair before kissing me until I couldn’t breathe. And I didn’t mind a bit.

Chapter 31

Ember

I fell backagainst the pillows, utterly exhausted, my throat sore, and my mouth dry. Hands swiftly took our son away.

“Come on. One more push, baby.”

I glared at Connor, ready to tell him to“fuck off and never come near me again.”But then he had to go and call me baby. I glared at him. He knew I’d do anything for him if he called me that. Bastard.

He smoothed my damp hair back from my brow, his eyes softening. His mouth was still tilted in a sexy smile as he read my reaction—perfectly. Before I could call him out, he kissed me gently. “Come on, let’s meet our little girl, Em.”

Nodding, I gritted my teeth. I panted. I pushed. And I godsdamned screamed.

A tiny little cry rent the air. My head twisted to look at where the doctors and nurses checked over our son on the resuscitaire. Monitors beeped, and the lights and heater glared down on him. His little arms and legs flailed in the air, his cry getting angrier.

“Is he okay?” My voice trembled.

Even though Fire had reassured me she could never hurt our child, when I’d found out I was carrying twins, I’d been more than worried; questions swirling around my mind. A phoenix could only be passed from daughter to daughter. What if we had a son in my womb, and she had only protected our daughter?

Connor grinned, his eyes shining, the blue of his irises more vivid than ever. “He’s fine. He’s a tough cookie. Listen to that cry.”

Another contraction hit me, and that was it. Pant. Stop. Don’t push. Push. Gods, I became so bloody confused—and so weary. Mea growled inside my head.

I’m not giving up. I just need a rest…

No, you need to push...my wolf commanded.

But I just wanted to rest.

“No. No. Come on, Firecracker, open your eyes. You’ve nearly done it. She's almost here.”

In the distance, I heard monitors beeping and urgent shouts. I didn’t care. I just wanted to sleep. Our son caterwauled at the top of his lungs. But my daughter… I concentrated all my strength into my abdomen and pelvis—and pushed.

“Got her!” shouted the midwife exultantly.

I smiled and let myself drift.

“Shit! She’s haemorrhaging!” someone yelled.

“Ember! Ember! Wake up!” Connor yelled and shook me hard, except I couldn’t feel it. No, I was standing looking down on the scene, my soul breaking. One of the nurses felt my pulse and then started chest compressions. Another pulled an alarm bell. Between my legs was a pool of blood, red and bright, and spreading. Even supernaturals were not immune to the dangers of childbirth.

Connor stumbled back out of the way, his face contorted and grey, as they worked on me. He flattened himself against the wall as they hung up bags of blood and gave me drugs. I’d never seen him look so lost, so shocked.

Another team ran in, but not to help me. On another resuscitaire, my daughter wasn’t moving.

Beside me, Mea stood, her soul separated from mine by death, and beside her, an ethereal bird of Fire floated. She looked from me to my daughter.

I smiled sadly. “I understand. But you don’t have to choose.” And like any mother would, I smiled and pointed to my daughter. “Save her.”

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