“Luna,” my name, a whisper on his lips.
They place him on my chest, his warmth searing through the numbness. Nico’s hand covers mine on his back, his wedding band smeared with my blood.
“He’s…”
“Perfect,” I rasp.
“No.” His lips brush my temple. “He’s a storm. Just like his mother.”
I want to smile, but the machines shriek, and the room tilts.
Hemorrhagic shock,someone screams.Code blue.
Nico’s roar drowns it out. “FIX HER!”
Antonio’s voice cuts through the panic. “Uterus won’t contract. Type O negative, stat!”
Darkness swallows me whole.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
NICOLAI
Her hand goesslack in mine.
I don’t breathe. Don’t blink. The world narrows to the pale curve of her lips, the stillness of her chest.
No. No. No.
Antonio’s shouting, several doctors are barking orders, and the staccato beat of hurried footsteps echoes off the walls. Someone pulls at her gown, and her skin is soaked with blood. Antonio grips my shoulders, pulling me back. “They need to work, Nico.”
I barely hear him. My focus is on her and the eerie stillness of her body. She’s barely breathing, and she’s so cold. Too cold.
“Wake up,” I whisper, pressing her hand between mine and trying to force my warmth back into her.
Someone yells for fluids and more blood. My knees almost buckle when I hear the word “surgery”. And there are too many words being thrown at me that I don’t understand. Colliding with the pounding in my skull.
Her lashes flutter briefly, and it gives me hope.
“I’m here,” I tell her. Squeezing her hand in the hope that she knows I’m here. “Stay with me.”
She doesn’t answer.
A nurse tries to push me out of the way, and I break two of her fingers without looking. I’m so angry that bile rises in my throat.
This is all my fault.
“Prepare an OR. We need to stop the bleeding.”
I collapse against the wall with a knife clutched in my hand. Watching as they thread lines into her veins and prepare her for surgery. Her skin’s as colorless as a corpse.
Antonio mutters about blood loss, transfusions, and possible organ failure. I block him out. Focusing on thebeep-beep-beepof the monitor.
The nursery calls twice. I hang up. I follow the gurney as far as they’ll let me, trailing them through the hall, past the double doors. But they stop me cold.
They won’t let me in.
I try to push past security and the doctors who pretend they understand. But Antonio’s there, his grip is relentless. “They need space, Nico.”