“Olivia!” Reyna’s voice echoed through the cavern, fragmented and distorted as it bounced off the jagged stone walls. The disorienting sound deepened the void around me, amplifying my isolation. “I can’t find you! Roman is coming, too.”
“Reyna!” I cried out, my voice hoarse and strained between the crushing waves of pain. The sound ricocheted back at me, an eerie reminder of our loss. I pressed my palms against the rough, cool surface of the cave wall, leaning heavily into it as if it could bear the weight of my agony.
My gaze fell to the daggers on the damp cave floor, their metallic sheen muted in the dim light. No one could see them—not Reyna, not Osman, and certainly not my mother or Mathias. I couldn’t let them fall into the wrong hands. With trembling fingers, I scooped them up, fumbling to secure them in the holster strapped to my thigh.
The pain consumed me, each contraction melding into the next until time itself seemed to unravel. I was adrift in a void of suffering, the boundaries of reality blurred and shifting.
Through the haze, Reyna’s hand suddenly found mine. Her touch was firm yet gentle, a lifeline anchoring me back to reality.
“Everything is going to be alright,” she said, her voice steadier now that she had found me. Her calm tone clashed with the chaos I felt within. “Let’s get you out of here.”
With her arm wrapped around my waist, Reyna tried to guide me through the labyrinthine tunnels, but the cave seemed to conspire against us. Each path led us in frustrating circles, the oppressive darkness closing in like a living thing. My legs shook, barely able to carry me as another contraction bent me double, the force of it robbing me of breath.
“Focus on your breathing,” Reyna urged, her words a tether pulling me from the edge of despair. Her presence was my only solace amidst my body’s rebellion.
The cave refused to release us, and despair gnawed at the edges of my resolve with each dead end.
“Almost there,” she whispered repeatedly, though we both knew we were no closer to escape than when we started.
The contractions intensified, a relentless tide, and Reyna’s words became a distant echo, drowned out by the sound of my screams.
Panic clawed at my throat, each breath shallower than the last. “I can’t do this,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper against the echoing void. “I’m going to give birth here, in this cave. We’ll never make it out in time.”
My voice broke as reality crashed down on me. The cave walls closed in.
“Olivia, listen to me.” Reyna’s voice cut through the despair. Her hands were firm on my shoulders, grounding me. “You’re strong—stronger than anyone I know. You can do this.”
Strength felt like a distant memory, a tale from another life. I sank to the cold ground, the unforgiving stone a harsh reminder of our plight. Overhead, another crack sliced the stone, revealing the waning night sky. My mind raced to the child within me, their life hanging in the balance of these shadowed corridors.
“Pray, Olivia,” Reyna said. “Someone will find us.”
She sounded sure, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of doubt.
I closed my eyes, lips moving in silent supplication to any deity that might be listening. Then Reyna was there again, her voice a soft command. “Take off your gown. I’ve seen births before. Our healer taught me a few things through observation.”
With trembling hands, I obeyed, the fabric slipping away from my loose chemise. I clutched the discarded dress to my chest, a feeble barrier against the wave of vulnerability that engulfed me. The stone beneath me felt impossibly cold, yet it was nothing compared to the fear coursing through my veins.
Then, a familiar roar pierced the labyrinth, a primal sound reverberating off the walls.Roman. His voice carried the same raw fury that had electrified the air the first time we met in Rome. He must have been furious—furious that I had left and had ventured into this treacherous underground maze without him.
“Roman!” I tried to shout back, but my voice was weak, a frail echo of his intensity swallowed by the vast expanse of the cavern. He would find us; I clung to that hope. Yet fear gnawed at me. His anger—was it for my reckless departure or for what awaited us both? For the unknown fate of our child, conceived in love but now overshadowed by darkness?
“Focus, Olivia.” Reyna pressed her hands to my back. “He’s coming for you, for both of you.”
Her words were a lifeline, tethering me to hope amid fear and uncertainty. Another wave of pain surged through me, threatening to drag me under. But Roman was near—I could feel it deep in my bones. He would find us, and we would face whatever came next together.
“Roman!” The name escaped my lips in a hoarse gasp, echoing through the cavern only to return as a haunting, distorted whisper. My plea felt as futile as trying to grasp the fleeting shadows that danced with each fresh stab of pain. Overhead, the first delicate rays of dawn filtered through a narrow fissure, teasing the oppressive darkness with the faintest promise of light.
Time stretched, each moment an eternity marked by the unrelenting rhythm of my contractions. The faint trickle of sunlight grew bolder, its golden streaks illuminating the rough stone walls. Yet even as daylight inched forward, a cold premonition settled in my chest—the solar eclipse was near. Its arrival would cast the world into an unnatural twilight, a veil of foreboding that seemed to mirror the chaos within me.
When despair threatened to consume me, a silhouette emerged from the gloom. Roman. His presence cut through my haze of agony like a beacon, his eyes locking onto mine with unyielding determination. Behind him, Malik staggered, his face pale and etched with suffering. The eclipse was already clawing at his strength, stripping him of the power that made him who he was.
“I’m in so much pain,” I whispered, my voice crumbling under the weight of distress as tears blurred my vision.
Malik’s knees buckled, his form crumpling to the cold, unforgiving ground.
“Malik!” Roman’s voice was edged with panic as he knelt beside his friend, but his gaze never strayed far from me.
“Roman,” I gasped through gritted teeth. “I can barely take it.”
