Page 88 of The Witch's Spell
He jolts upright, the incessant thumping finally ceasing. “Sorry. I fidget when I’m nervous.”
I start pacing again, heart thundering in my chest.
When the bedroom door creaks open and Niamh’s face appears, I freeze.
“The baby will be here any moment,” she says softly. “Would you like to join us?”
Despite the fire roaring in the hearth, my body goes cold. “M-me?” I stutter.
Niamh’s lips pull up into a smile, and she reaches out a hand. I let her wrap her fingers around mine, and then she’s pulling me through the door and into the warm tiny bedroom. The door clicks closed behind me, but I remain right there, my feet feeling rooted to the spot.
Aurora is lying on the bed, freckled cheeks flushed, her long green hair pulled away from her face in a braid. A few strands have come loose, and they cling to her cheeks, whichshine with perspiration in the light coming through the open blinds.
“Rowan,” she says, voice tired. One of her hands rises from the blankets, reaching for me.
It takes Niamh pressing a hand softly into my back to get my feet to finally move. I walk around the far side of the bed, and Aurora takes my hand. She grips my fingers, brow furrowing as another contraction hits her.
“Wh-what do I do?” I ask, suddenly feeling on the verge of panic.
The midwife just smiles. “Nothing, dear. Just be here.”
Heart thumping hard, I focus on Aurora’s face. She’s squeezing her eyes closed, teeth gritted. And she’s radiant. A beam of sunlight plays across her flushed cheeks and illuminates a few wispy strands of hair dancing around her face. Her hand grips mine so hard that I want to wince.
“Almost there,” the midwife says. “Once more.”
“You’re doing beautifully,” Niamh says. She’s standing on Aurora’s opposite side, her dark eyes glittering with excitement.
I’m glad she’s here with us. Her presence radiates calm, and it helps me as Aurora pushes once more and births our child into the world.
“Aurora, Rowan,” the midwife says, beaming down at the little squirming bundle in her hands. She reaches for a soft blanket and wipes the baby clean, then stands and carries the child—ourchild—to Aurora’s bedside. “Meet your daughter.”
Aurora releases my hand and takes the baby into her arms. “A girl,” she whispers. A tear streaks down her pink cheek asshe holds our daughter close to her chest. “Rowan...” Her gaze flicks to me. “A daughter. Soleil.”
And as soon as I meet her eyes, I break down.
All the fear and stress and panic I’ve held inside since Aurora told me of her pregnancy come pouring out at once. My chest hitches with a sob, and I sink onto the bed beside Aurora, bracing my elbows on my trembling knees as tears race down my face.
I hear movement, and then the door opens and closes. I don’t look up, but I think the midwife and Niamh left to give us a moment. To give me a moment.
“Rowan,” Aurora whispers again, her tone soft and coaxing as my shoulders shake with another sob. “It’s okay, my love. We’re okay.”
Aurora’s okay. Our daughter—Soleil—is okay.
Our daughter . . .
Finally, I catch my breath. Using the long sleeve of my tunic, I wipe the tears from my face, then turn to lay eyes on the little babe in Aurora’s arms.
She’s pink skinned and wrinkly, her skin still slightly damp despite the midwife having quickly wiped her off. And suddenly, Aurora is leaning forward, transferring Soleil into my arms.
“I-I don’t know what to do,” I stammer. “How do I—”
“You’re doing just fine,” Aurora says. She leans back into her pillows with a sigh, and her gaze softens.
I look down at my daughter. She’s so small—almost impossibly small. But she looks healthy, and she opens her tiny mouth and lets out a sudden cry. It startles me, making me flinch. Aurora laughs. And then I do. Andsuddenly I’m smiling, more tears running down my cheeks as I hold my child in my hands for the very first time.
“Soleil,” I whisper to her, hands trembling as they hold her small body. “Welcome to the world, little one.”
Epilogue
