Pain lanced through me with renewed ferocity, commanding every fiber of my being. Each breath felt like a battle; every moment stretched into an eternity.
The air hung heavy, saturated with the mingling scents of damp earth and fear. Reyna crouched beside Malik, her arms steadying his trembling form. The once formidable figure now quaked like a shadow of himself slumped against her.
“Stay with me,” she said, her voice a steady drumbeat against the chaos.
“Take him away, Reyna,” Roman commanded, his tone sharp but laced with urgency.
“No,” Malik rasped, his voice weak yet defiant, a flicker of fire burning behind his words. “You’re not taking me out of here.”
Reyna slipped her arm beneath Malik’s shoulders, hoisting him with a grunt. Malik swayed as he fought to catch his balance. Finally, with his arm around her shoulder, he staggered beside her. Their shadows merged into one as they disappeared into the labyrinthine paths of the cave, leaving Roman and me alone with the encroaching darkness and the storm of my labor.
Roman’s hands shook as he fumbled with a torch, striking flint until sparks caught and flame bloomed, casting a warm glow against the cold stone.
As another contraction ripped through my body, I couldn’t help but scream in agony. The sound was primal and wild, reverberating off the cave walls. Roman was by my side, massaging my back and offering words of comfort. His presence eased some of the pain, but I could still feel every sharp throb in my abdomen as I rode out the wave of contractions.
“I found the moon dagger,” I managed between labored breaths, my voice quivering but resolute. “I have them both now.”
Roman’s face, illuminated by the flickering torchlight, registered shock. “How?”
“The old man. He’s real,” I said, my words cut short as another contraction gripped me, stealing my breath and silencing any further explanation.
Confusion etched itself deeply across his features, his mind racing to make sense of my revelation.
When the spasm subsided, and I could draw a shaky breath, I said, “The old man was waiting for me. Roman, we’re in danger. I overheard Mathias and Mom talking. They want to kill us. The old man warned me—they’re my biggest enemies.”
The weight of my words hung heavy in the air, the gravity of the revelation pressing down on both of us. I braced for disbelief, for denial, but instead, Roman nodded. His gaze locked onto mine, steady and resolute. “I believe you, my love. But right now, I need you to focus on the baby and your breathing. We’ll face this together.”
The stakes were higher than ever. All we had was each other and a fragile life fighting to emerge into a world shadowed by danger.
Pain crashed over me in relentless waves, each one building higher than the last. Roman’s hands were gentle yet unyielding as he helped me shift against the rough cave floor.
“Pull up your chemise,” he said.
I obeyed, the coolness of the subterranean air brushing against my fevered skin. Through the narrow slit in the cave’s ceiling, the celestial dance of moon and sun drew nearer to an embrace. The light that trickled through wavered with the rhythm of the impending eclipse.
“You’re giving birth, Olivia. The baby’s coming. I see a head…” Roman’s face was a picture of awe and fear. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Roman!” I cried out, not in pain this time but in desperate need. “You have to help me deliver the baby.”
My plea echoed off the cavern walls, amplifying the direness of our situation. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of terror and determination.
“We need a midwife,” he muttered, almost to himself.
“Stop wishing for solutions we don’t have!” The command burst from me with the force of another contraction. “I only need you, Roman! You’re the only one I can trust.”
He squeezed my hand with a promise that he wouldn’t let go.
His gaze shifted upward, his expression torn.
“I wish Amara were here,” he whispered, the name heavy with memories of comfort and guidance, her absence a palpable ache.
“Roman!” My voice rang out sharper than I intended, but urgency demanded it. The sliver of sky visible through the cave’s fissure darkened rapidly as the eclipse drew closer to totality. “The solar eclipse is coming fast.”
His eyes locked on mine again, steadying me. “Don’t worry. Just think about birthing the baby. Give me a push.”
Drawing every ounce of strength I had left, I bore down, focusing on the life within me. Silent prayers echoed in my mind—prayers for survival, hope, and the fragile future we desperately fought to protect. The darkness crept closer, an unwelcome specter at the threshold of our moment.
The pain swelled, consuming, threatening to splinter my resolve. Then, amidst the cacophony of anguish, a featherlight touch brushed against my sweat-drenched forehead.
