Sorcha whimpered again, clutching at her stomach, and Layla’s voice dropped low and soothing. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll take care of you. You’re not alone in this.”
For the first time since I’d found her on the bathroom floor, the tightness in my chest loosened. Not much, but enough that I could breathe without feeling like my lungs were being crushed. At least there was someone in this room who knew what the hell to do, someone who wasn’t lost in fury and fear.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, lifting Sorcha carefully against my chest while Layla tucked the pillows behind her, arranging them until she looked less fragile, less like she was about to break in my arms.
“Better,” Layla said softly, though her eyes flicked to me with a weight I didn’t miss. “But don’t hover so hard you crush her, Lucien. She needs your steadiness, not your storm.”
I clenched my jaw, but this time I didn’t argue as I pulled Sorcha tighter against me, whispering fiercely against her skin, “You’re going to be fine, baby. Both of you. Just breathe. Stay with me. Please.”
Her fingers curled weakly in my shirt, her voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it. “I’m scared.”
“So am I,” I admitted, my throat burning. “But we’re in this together. Always.”
And as the sun blazed outside, I held her like I could shield her from the world, fury and fear tearing me apart inside, but only tenderness reaching her.
The hours bled slow and heavy until at last, dusk broke over the mansion. I felt the shift before I even heard the car. The hum of tires on the gravel drive, the scent of steel and antiseptic. The doctor was here.
Ivan and Gideon were at the door in an instant, ushering him inside with the urgency of men who knew the weight of thismoment. He entered the room still immaculate in his three-piece suit, but I caught the flicker of weariness in his eyes. He carried his case like it was another limb, and as always, he didn’t waste time on pleasantries.
“Out,” he ordered the men, his tone sharp but calm. “All but you.” His eyes cut to me. Of course I wasn’t leaving.
Layla stayed as well, her hand already smoothing over Sorcha’s hair, her voice steady even as Sorcha groaned softly, clinging to my hand like it was her only tether.
The doctor opened his case, pulling out instruments with methodical precision. His hands were steady, his voice quiet as he asked Sorcha to breathe, to lie back, to let him check her.
Every touch made my jaw clench. Every time she flinched, my claws wanted to burst through my skin. My growl was low, constant, as if the sound could keep the danger at bay.
“Lucien,” Layla whispered, her eyes locking on mine. “Let him do his job.”
It was the only thing that kept me from tearing the doctor’s hands away when he pressed against her swollen belly, when Sorcha gasped, sweat beading on her temple.
At last, the doctor leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking between us. “The child is early, but the heartbeat is strong.” His words clipped, deliberate. “She’s in labour. It looks like you are going to have your child tonight.”
The room spun. For all my planning, for all my preparations, I wasn’t ready for the word to fall like a blade.
Sorcha whimpered, her nails digging into my palm, and I bent low, pressing my forehead to hers. “You hear that? He saidstrong.” My voice was raw, breaking, but I forced steadiness into it. “You’re both strong. We’ll get through this.”
The doctor was already moving, snapping orders. “I need hot water and fresh linens. She’ll need to stay upright as much as possible. When it’s time we will move quickly. If she pushes too hard, we risk…” He stopped, glancing at me. “You don’t need the details. Just keep her calm. Her body will do the rest.”
“Don’t speak about her like she’s not here,” I snarled, but Sorcha’s trembling hand on my chest pulled me back from tearing into him.
Her eyes found mine, wide and shining with fear. “Lucien…”
“I’m here.” I kissed her damp temple, my voice a vow against her skin. “Every second. Every breath. I’m not leaving you.”
Layla moved with quiet efficiency, already fetching linens, steadying the room with a presence that made me silently thank the gods she was here.
But even over Sorcha’s laboured breaths, over the doctor’s clipped orders, I heard it…the faint shuffle of boots in the hall. The weight of presence I knew as well as my own heartbeat.
My brothers.
They weren’t in the room, but they were there. I could feel it through the bond of blood, the way their energy pressed against the door like a wall. Draugr’s pacing was heavy, steady, a rhythm of a soldier barely containing the urge to break in. Viking’s voice rumbled low, a growl that carried despite the walls.“Is she alright?”Volken’s tone was sharper, clipped, demanding updates with the cold edge of a strategist who hated being left blind. And Roman…Roman’s voice, quieter, calm but carryingsteel, was the anchor in all of it, asking nothing more than,“Is he holding up?”
They didn’t push through the door. They didn’t need to. Just knowing they were there, gave me the kind of strength I hadn’t realized I needed. That I wasn’t carrying this storm alone.
I tightened my grip on Sorcha’s hand, leaning close enough for her to hear the words I couldn’t say out loud. “We’re not alone, baby. My brothers are out there. The whole family. They’ll hold the world off until you and I are ready to face it.”
Her eyes flickered open through the haze of pain, and the faintest smile tugged her lips. “Then I guess we can do this.”
