Page 42 of Orri

Ulfar's comm device goes off and he furrows his brow, hand ghosting toward his belt.

"You expecting a call or something?"

"No..." Ulfar starts. "That's why it's weird. I don't have this thing connected to any of the networks, either. It's probably just a—"

As he looks at the screen, I can visibly see the color drain from his face. His mouth drops open. Immediately, my brain jumps into battle mode. Was something wrong? Were we being attacked? An emergency meeting with Soren, perhaps?

Ulfar looks up from the device like he's just seen a ghost. "Speak of the devil," he breathes. "I just got a match."

"You what?!"

But before I can find out anything more, the swinging doors open and a woman's calling my name.

"Orri? Is there an Orri, mate of Isabella here?"

"Me!" I shout a little too loudly. I jump out of the chair, all thoughts of Ulfar's impending match a distant memory. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

The nurse nods with a smile. "Of course. She's delivered a healthy baby boy. You can go in and see if you like."

The world narrows to just that moment. My heart leaps into my throat, blood rushing in my ears. I push past the nurse, down the endless corridor, and right into the room marked with her name.

And there she is. A sweaty, exhausted Isabella holding a swaddled bundle against her chest. Her eyes tell the real story — that despite the immense physical strain, she couldn't be happier. She's practically glowing as I slow my steps and approach our new son for the first time.

"Isabella," I breathe, looking down at the newborn and then back to her. "He's..."

"Beautiful," she finishes, her eyes brimming with happy tears. "Our new son."

The whole world seems to shift on its axis at that moment. My heart, already full with the love and acceptance I never knew I needed, swells even further. The rush of battle is nothing compared to this. A pure, thoughtless high that I want to remember forever.

I reach out and touch the red, heated skin of our new child. Looking at his impossibly tiny fingers and toes. Of his small, slightly parted mouth. And at the tiny tuft of dark hair covering his head.

Words fail me. All the past, present, and future fade away in the light of this singular, shining moment.

I have the love of a beautiful woman, three children, and a life that I wouldn't trade for the world. I never thought I'd end up here. I'd resigned myself to a life of solitude and grief. But Isabella smashed into my life the day I saw her in that cell, and she taught me things about myself I'd long since buried. She helped me learn to live again.

Somehow, somewhere, I know Zannah, and all those who came before her, would be proud.

---