Page 63 of Calypso's Shield
I squeeze my eyes shut, my body curling inward as another contraction hits. The pressure is unbearable, squeezing the life out of me, leaving me panting and trembling.
“If you tell me to breathe one more time,” I grind out between clenched teeth, “I will throw myself off this goddamn bike.”
Farris lets out a low growl, his hold on me tightening. “Yeah? You and what fucking strength?”
Before I can fire back, another contraction tears through me. The pain is so intense, so consuming, it shatters my thoughts, leaving me gasping against his chest.
My body isn’t just laboring, it’s fighting me. The exhaustion from the battle, the stress, the Lupus, it’s all catching up, pulling me under. My body wasn’t built for this kind of war. Not now. Not when I need it to hold strong.
Farris curses under his breath and grips the throttle tighter, pushing the bike faster. The engine roars beneath us, vibrations rattling through my bones. “Hold on, baby. We’re almost there.”
Behind us, I hear the growl of motorcycles, a symphony of roaring engines cutting through the night. The Royal Bastards and the Royal Harlots, our family. They just fought a war beside me, and now they’re fighting to get me to the hospital alive.
I don’t know how long the ride lasts, only that it feels like an eternity. By the time Farris jerks the bike to a stop, the sharp screech of tires cutting through the night, I’m barely hanging on.
Farris is off the bike before I can even move. Strong arms scoop me up like I weigh nothing. My head lolls against hisshoulder, and for a second, I catch a glimpse of the ER doors swinging open, the harsh fluorescent lights bleeding into the darkness.
“Help her! She’s in labor!” Farris’s voice is sharp, demanding, cutting through the noise like a blade.
People rush toward us, voices blending, hands grabbing at me, shifting me onto a gurney. The world tilts, blinding lights overhead, white walls streaking past.
I reach for Farris, panic clawing at my chest, but he’s right there. His fingers find mine, strong, steady, keeping me tethered. “I’m right here, baby,” he says, his voice raw with emotion. His blue eyes burn into mine, fierce and unshakable. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A mask is pressed over my face, and cool oxygen is rushing into my lungs. My body is trembling, drenched in sweat, but I still feel cold.
A nurse is shouting something. Words I can’t quite understand, but I catch bits and pieces, pre-eclampsia, Lupus, blood pressure too high, emergency.
The word slices through me.
No. No, no, no. I try to say something, to move, to fight, but my body won’t respond. It’s like I’m sinking, the edges of my vision darkening, the sounds of the hospital warping, stretching into something distant, muffled.
I can’t feel my hands or my legs.
A rush of heat floods my body, followed by an icy chill. My ears ring, and my heart is hammering so fast it feels like it’s about to explode out of my chest.
Farris’s grip tightens. “Lyp, baby, stay with me.” His voice wavers. I’ve never heard fear in his voice before. Not like this.
I try. I swear I try, but the world tilts, the edges collapsing in on themselves. The last thing I hear is the rapid beeping ofmy heart monitor, too fast, too erratic, before it cuts to a single, deafening tone.
Everything goes black.
24
FARRIS
The second Calypso’s eyes roll back, my entire world stops. The machines start screaming, nurses shove me aside, and Doctors rush in, cutting away at her clothes, their hands moving fast, too fast, like they already know she’s slipping.
I can’t fucking move.
I can’t fucking breathe.
“She’s coding, get the crash cart NOW!”
No. No, no, no.
Capone’s strong hand grips my shoulder, dragging me back, but I can barely feel it. “Law Dog, let them work.”
The roaring in my ears drowns out everything. My blood turns to ice, and my stomach drops. This isn’t happening. She was just talking to me. She was just in my arms. She can’t fucking leave.
