“FUCK!” Capone bellows, shielding himself as more explosions rock the estate.
It’s a goddamn trap. The front gate blows next, a wall of fire cutting us off from the road. That’s when I see it, more of Grant’s men pulling back, scattering like fucking rats, piling into waiting cars.
One of them is Grant.
I push forward, dodging the burning wreckage, my gun raised, my target locked. As I fire, another blast shakes the ground, throwing my aim off. My bullet slams into the SUV’s back window instead of Grant’s skull.
“SON OF A BITCH!” I roar.
The SUV peels out, tires screeching, disappearing into the night.
Blayze grabs my shoulder, shaking me. “We gotta go! NOW!”
I look around. The mansion is caving in, fire ripping through every floor. The air is thick with smoke, making it impossible to see who’s alive and who’s dead.
The Royal Bastards and the Harlots are already retreating, dragging the wounded with them. If we don’t move, we’re getting buried in this hellhole.
My gut churns. Grant is getting away. The bastard planned this. He rigged his own fucking house to blow to cover his escape.
I curse, turning my back on the flames. Not by choice and not because I want to, but because I hear Calypso’s scream and it cuts through me like a knife. “Farris!”
That’s the only thing that matters. “Calypso!”
I sprint, my boots pounding against the ground, dodging bodies and smoke. My blood turns to ice when I spot Calypso on the ground, clutching her belly with Allura next to her, holding her hand.
“Fuck, no.” I drop beside her, gripping her face. “Allura, what the fuck happened?”
“She just, she just went down,” Allura says, eyes wide, hands steady but tense on Calypso’s shoulders. “Her water broke.”
Her breathing is ragged, her hands gripping her belly. “It’s…it’s time.”
My entire world tilts. “What?”
Calypso grits her teeth, panting through the pain. Her eyes snap to mine, wild with both fear and fury. “I’m in labor, you idiot!” She bites out.
Everything else disappears. The gunfire, the bodies, the mission. My focus is only on her.
Capone waves us toward the bikes. “Get her the fuck out of here!”
Shit. I scoop Calypso up, ignoring her cursing, ignoring the blood still drying on my hands. Blayze is already clearing a path as I throw my leg over my bike, settling Calypso against me with one arm wrapped tightly around her.
“Hold on, baby.” My pulse is hammering against my chest.
Calypso grips my cut, her nails digging into my chest. “Like I have a choice.”
The engine roars to life, tires kicking up gravel, and I tear out of there, racing toward the hospital. From one battle straight into the next, and this might be the most important fight of my life. Because this time, I’m fighting for the life of my child.
23
CALYPSO
Pain explodes through my body in waves, sharp and unrelenting. It’s not the kind of pain I know how to fight, not the kind I can grit my teeth and push through. This isn’t like taking a hit, like a blade slicing across my skin or the dull ache of bruised ribs after a fight. This is raw. This is brutal. This is ripping me apart from the inside.
My fingers are tangled in Farris’s cut, clutching the worn leather like a lifeline. My breath is coming in short, shallow gasps as the motorcycle roars down the highway. The world around us is a blur of flashing lights, darkened roads, and the distant wail of sirens from the burning battlefield we left behind. The war we just walked out of isn’t over for me. It’s just begun. All I can focus on is the crushing pressure in my belly and the fire searing through my spine.
Another contraction grips me, white-hot agony rolling through my belly, stealing what little air I have left. Fuck, this hurts. I let out a strangled moan, my nails digging intoFarris’s chest, trying to ground myself through the storm of pain crashing over me.
Farris’s arm is locked around me like steel, his grip tight, unyielding, keeping me pressed against his chest as he weaves between cars, pushing the bike harder, faster. His voice is rough against the wind, laced with worry he doesn’t even try to hide. “Breathe, Lyp. I got you.”
