Page 117 of Break Her Heart
I barely registered where we went. Just the change in air. The cold stone gave way to soft lantern light and the faint scent of lavender and something iron-rich. The room they brought me was one I had never seen before. It felt too clean. Too prepared. A basin steamed in the corner. Herbs smoldered in a clay dish. The air was too warm.
They laid me on a bed that creaked under my weight, and another wave of pain struck so hard I thought my vision had fractured. A woman stepped forward through the haze—older, lined with time, but her hands didn’t shake.
But it was Carrow who drew the eye.
He stood just beyond the ring of light, unmoving. I could feel his presence more than I could see it—something heavy pressing into the air. He hadn’t blinked once. I felt his gaze through every contraction, cold and exacting, more invasive than the hands pressing against my skin. He watched my stomach like it was a vessel of gold being pried open. Not for me. Not for life. For what was inside.
Hands clasped behind his back as if in reverence. But it wasn’t reverence. It was restraint. Barely.
His eyes burned into my belly.
“Do not let my son die,” he said simply.
Theson.
The healer didn’t look at him. Just gave a small, cold nod before pressing a hand to my stomach. Her fingers were warm and firm. “Breathe,” she said.
I tried, but the pain came. And it didn’t stop.
Time dissolved. I didn’t know if hours passed or minutes. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think. I could barely remember who I was. There was only pain, and the memory of August’s touch in the moments before we’d created this life. That was what I held on to.
I pushed with what strength I could find, each contraction wrenching a groan from deep in my chest. Sweat soaked my hairline, my hands gripping the sheets until my knuckles ached. The healer’s voice cut through the haze, sharp but steady, urging me on. I wanted to stop, to curl away from the pain, but her tone left no room for disobedience.
I faded in and out—sweat-soaked and trembling. The healer barked commands I couldn’t understand. Someone dabbed my forehead with a cloth. My heart stuttered more than once. But I didn’t beg. Not even when I thought I was going to die.
And then—
A sound.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating, that my own voice was echoing back at me—broken, reshaped, and unrecognizable. But then it came again, cutting through the haze.
A cry. Ababy’scry.
Mybaby’s cry.
My chest felt as if it cracked wide open. The tidal wave of sound washed away the pain, and none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that existed in that moment was that sound.
“It’s a girl, Your Grace,” someone said, the words seeming to float through the air.
A girl. A beautiful, perfect girl.
Mine.
I tried to lift my head. Everything ached. My chest felt like it was caved in. But Ihadto see her.
“No!” Carrow’s scream tore through the room like a curse.
I forced my head up from the pillow, blinking through tears and blood and light. “Let me hold her.”
The healer turned to me, but Carrow was already moving.
He crossed the room in seconds and snatched the baby from the healer’s arms. Not with care. Not with awe.
With fury.
“Give her to me,” I gasped, one arm lifting despite the fire in my side.
I tried to push myself up, but my arms shook and gave out. My body wouldn’t move the way I needed it to—not fast enough. Tears spilled freely now, hot and blinding.
