by Renea Mason
“Light, you have no idea how happy I am. Can you hear me?” He caressed my cheek with his palm.
I responded through gritted teeth. “Yes. What’s going on? What happened?” Another attempt to focus. I was in our room. The room in the castle where Overton slept beside me every night, but something was wrong. Medical equipment. The pain. I pulled my legs up, planting my feet into the mattress, digging my heels into the bed.
He mopped my forehead with a wet cloth. “Light, you’re in labor.”
I growled, “That’s impossible. I’m barely three months pregnant.”
Overton appeared at the opposite side of the bed. “No, love, you’ve been unconscious for almost seven months.” He bent, pressing a kiss on my forehead.
“How’s that possible? What the fuck did you do?” I tried to rise on my elbows to glimpse the contraptions attached to my body.
Overton fiddled with tubes between my legs and a monitor of some sort strapped to my stomach. I couldn’t see anything past that point; my abdomen was far too large. Such a strange and disturbing sight to wake up to. Another round of pain stole my concentration.
“You had an altercation with Celestine somehow, and when you returned to the castle, you were injured. So was the baby. You slipped into a coma. I worried it was something contagious since you were in a state much like that of the young woman you killed in the courtyard. Now I’m not so sure. I stabilized the baby, and she continued to grow.” He squeezed my hand, tears in his eyes. “I thought we may have lost you.”
I clenched his fingers in a vice-like grip as the agony radiated through my back. I panted, “The baby. She’s OK?”
Overton rubbed his other hand down my arm. “Yes. Relax. She’s perfectly fine. It was you we were worried about.”
Crushing pain tightened my muscles and stole my breath. “Did I wake up because I’m in labor? And God… you know… sleeping through this part would have been just fine.”
Cyril brushed a sweaty clump of hair from my face. “We’re not sure. I found Celestine’s soul in your pocket. That allowed me to see everything that happened. Even though Aristia possessed her, Celestine’s soul still revealed everything. Aristia’s essence kept Celestine alive all these years.”
I gripped his arm as another contraction shook me. Cyril’s forlorn look didn’t go unnoticed. I needed enough breath to form my question. I inhaled sharply. “What’s wrong?”
He stroked his thumb across my cheek. “It can wait. We have much to catch up on, but now you’ve got bigger things to focus on.”
I laughed, but it died on a gasp as another wave of agony built from within.
Overton adjusted my legs, opening them wider. “Love, I need to check to see how far along you are.”
“You usually give me a little foreplay before diving in.” The joke died on a moan as another wave hit.
“Linden, I’ll be your lover later, right now, I’m your doctor and a very anxious father.”
I jerked against his invading fingers.
“Love, I’m going to need you to start pushing soon.”
Another gripping tremor. I didn’t have time to prepare for the situation I was in. Other women got nine months to acclimate to the idea of pushing another human being out of their body. Three-quarters of a year to watch their body contort and make room for another person. Nine months of bonding with the idea, making peace with it. I hadn’t even made it through denial. “Fuck. Overton, what kind of drugs do you have?”
“Love, you’re too far along for an epidural, and I have nothing here. I know it’s rough, but women have been doing this since the beginning of time, and none of them had your fortitude.”
“You’re lucky you’re out of reach. I’d punch you in the face. This isn’t the middle ages, it’s modern fucking times, and we have long-acting morphine…and…oh…fuck.” I dug my fingers into Cyril’s bicep. “Cyril, distract me. Tell me why you looked so upset before.”
“Light…”
I squeezed harder. “Fucking tell me… Goddamn it.”
Overton caressed my calf with comforting strokes. “Let me help you breathe through the contractions.” His coaching wasn’t helping.
“Cyril,” I cried.
“All right.” He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed while taking the abuse my fingers inflicted on his arms with every wave. “Since you…ah…relieved Celestine of her soul, and I needed to understand what Aristia is up to, I watched Celestine’s life play out. You did her a favor. She would have never been more than she was, lying on that slab in a crypt in this world, so now she can move on.”
“Why were you sad then?”
“Because I’m responsible for what happened to her. I didn’t know Vidius was tracking me through Scotland. He happened upon Celestine and took her captive. When he found the fragments of Aristia, he theorized that giving them a living host would give them more power. And it did. They used her as a source of energy to help create his shapeshifters. I’m wondering if compromising our home, leaving me Warin’s ashes as a message, wasn’t designed to get me to Scotland with the girl’s body. Bringing her here is what gave Aristia enough power to possess her.”
“Are you sure everything is OK with the baby? She said…”
He stared down into my eyes. “Everything is fine. Overton never left your side while you were out. Most nights, I had to remind him to eat. Every test looks as though you are having a normal, human baby girl.”
I glanced over at Overton, who was in full doctor mode, checking the monitor.
A crushing sensation started in my back and circled around, gripping my abdomen. “Oh, God, I think I need to push.”
Overton’s hands rested on my thighs again. “Go ahead, love. It’s time.”
Sweat poured from my brow. My legs shook. I had never imagined myself in this position. Soon I’d be someone’s mother, and I had no idea who the fuck I even was. How could I provide advice or guidance to anyone else? Every law, every rule, no longer applied since the world had turned on its head. My thoughts were interrupted by a new pressure and a struggle to breathe.
Overton’s soothing words were meant to be a comfort. “Very good. Almost there.” I couldn’t help but be moved by the reverence in his tone. The child meant the world to him. He’d fallen in love with her the moment he knew she existed. Even though my trepidations still outweighed the excitement and curiosity, my love for Overton allowed me to appreciate his.
I gritted my teeth, bore down, and groaned. “Fuck. I thought shifting was painful.”
Cyril wiped the sweat from my brow. “You are my warrior. You not only fight battles for me but also our child.”
Recognizing that Cyril had come to terms with his insecurities around Overton fathering the baby was a welcome relief.
The pressure and building tension gave way to fire. The juncture between my legs blazed with pain.
“Almost there. Just a few more pushes.”
My nails dug into Cyril’s flesh, but he didn’t flinch.
My eyes clamped shut, and every muscle in my body tensed. I needed relief from the pressure. With concentrated effort, I pushed again.
The elation in Overton’s voice gave me the strength to continue. “That’s it. You can do it. Another big push.”
Balling the sheet in my fist, I clenched and released the fabric until I felt her escape. My chest rose and fell with deep inhalations as I listened for her cry. I scooted onto my forearms, attempting to glimpse her between my legs.
Her shrill cry was a welcome sound. Overton busied himself cleaning and murmuring to her for a moment and then held her up so I could gaze at her tiny body.
Tears flowed without apology down his cheeks. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
My vision blurred with streams of salty tears. I sat transfixed by her beauty, her tiny hands and feet.
Cyril sat the washcloth on the bed, rose, and walked toward the crying baby.
I gazed upon the two men who were lost in one of their silent exchang
es, Cyril pulling the words from Overton’s head. This time it irritated me. I deserved to know what Overton was thinking as much as Cyril.
Before I could object, Overton carried her to me, the cord still connecting us. “Cyril, pull back Linden’s gown.”
Cyril returned to the bed, undid the lacing, and exposed my breasts.
Overton bent and kissed my tears. “I love you. Thank you.” He settled her on my chest.
I pulled the blanket over her to keep her warm and enveloped her small, frail body in my arms.
Overton stroked my cheek. “Cyril, why don’t you tell Linden while I finish caring for her?” He kissed me again. “Unfortunately, we’re not quite done. But you hold her for a while, then I’ll weigh her and do all the other things to get you back good as new.”
I looked up to register Cyril’s reaction, unsure what to expect, but his tear-filled eyes surprised me. With the hand not supporting the baby, I reached out to touch him. “You Ok?”
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
I smiled, trying not to cry harder.
“Just when I think I have it all figured out, the universe surprises me.”
“Cyril?” I rubbed my hand up and down his arm in soothing strokes.
“First you. Now her. I didn’t think it was possible. But here she is. I was prepared to love her anyway.”
My brow knitted. His reaction was so unlike him. “I had no doubts you’d love her.” I provided him the reassurance I knew he needed. “I told you she’d be yours. Paternity means nothing.”
“No, Linden, you don’t understand. She’s mine. She has my blood. She’s part me. I helped create her.”
Confusion laced my features. “But I thought you said she had to be Overton’s.”
“I did. Genetically, she is. But it’s not human blood in her veins, it’s mine. So, I’m her father too. It took something from all three of us to create her. She’s ours.”
So many things rushed through me with the new reality. A supernatural baby? Aristia’s warning. Cyril, a father?
Overton handed me a washcloth to clean her. “Hand her to Cyril for a moment. I need you to push a few more times to deliver the placenta.” Overton handed Cyril a blanket, and he swaddled her with it. His large hands made her seem smaller and even more fragile.
I groaned and clenched the covers as Overton pressed on my stomach, and in a moment, the agony was over. He clamped the umbilical cord and cut, disconnecting her from me.
She wasn’t mine.
She was ours.
Overton reached for the child, gathering her from Cyril’s arms. “May I? I need you to heal Linden.”
Cyril smiled down at the child and handed her to Overton, who beamed. Cyril made a gash in his neck with a scalpel before laying down beside me on the bed. “Take from my neck. I want to feel you against me while you drink.” He wrapped his arms around me.
I rolled onto my side and closed my lips over the lifeblood, licking, lapping, and sucking up his offering, allowing him to heal me. Little by little, the pain dissipated as my body renewed itself with Cyril’s energy.
Overton approached the other side of the bed and sat. Talking to our child, I heard him say, “Whatever shall we call you?”
So poetic. Just like the rest of my life, the action preceded the explanation. Why should she be any different?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
New
Serra, named for the seraphim in heaven’s army, relaxed in my arms. Her suckles ceased, causing her lips to slip from my nipple. With her eyes closed, she fell into a deep slumber.
Overton slid his hands under her tiny body, scooping her up and snuggling her against his shoulder.
The door to the bedchamber opened, and I scooted to the edge of the bed. Cyril rushed to my side and helped me up. I melded my body against his. He rewarded me by wrapping me in his arms.
Moments later, Rhys and Clarence bounded into the room. Rhys came to an abrupt stop, causing Clarence to slam into his back.
Rhys’s annoyed tone was apparent behind the panic of his words. “Cyril, you’ve got to come with us. It’s Vidius. It’s bad.”
Cyril released me from his embrace and faced Rhys, back straight. “What do you mean?”
“There have to be thousands of them. Remember the battle in Egypt?”
“Yes.”
“It’s worse than that. There are thousands of those hard to kill shifters. I hope you have something special up your sleeve because those humans were hard to fight, these motherfuckers will be impossible.”
Clarence placed his hand on Rhys’s shoulder. “Dude, we got this.”
Cyril jumped to command. “Overton, give Serra to Linden. Clarence, you stay and guard them. Rhys, gather the men. Protecting Linden and Serra is our top priority.”
Overton delivered Serra into my welcoming arms.
Rhys nodded, accepting his orders, then added, “Dominic has been working up plans, but they will be here soon. They came by ship and have traveled over the moors. It’s unlikely they were detected by humans.”
Cyril adjusted the sleeves of his shirt. “That’s by design. Humans would have tipped us off. Come now, let’s prepare.” He turned to me, cradling my face in his hands. “I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe.” He brushed his lips against mine and then pressed them to Serra’s forehead. He drew a symbol on her forehead with his index finger while mumbling something under his breath against her skin.
I didn’t like the fear in his eyes. “What was that?”
“A prayer for safekeeping. But I plan to fight like I’ll never breathe again, so let’s hope it isn’t needed.” After a silent exchange with Overton, but before turning to leave, he said, “I love you, never doubt it.”
I smiled at him. “You can tell me again when you’re safe.”
Cyril nodded and strode to the door. “Clarence, protect them.”
Clarence glanced in my direction. “Uh… yeah.”
Overton kissed me, then embraced Serra. “I waited over six centuries to meet you, I’m not about to leave you now. Take care of your mother, little one.” He pressed his lips to her forehead then gazed up into my eyes. “I love you, Linden. Before, I had nothing to fight for, but today, I fight for my family.” Another quick kiss before taking two steps toward the door and rested a hand on Clarence’s shoulder. “I’m counting on you.”
Clarence guffawed. “Me? You’re counting on me?”
Overton patted his shoulder, answering with a confident, “Yes,” before stepping through the doorway.
Clarence mumbled, “Son of a bitch,” under his breath as Overton closed the door.
I kissed Serra’s cheek. “Beautiful, I need to put you in the bassinette. I have to take care of a few things.” I placed her swaddled form into the hand-carved bassinette Overton had bought her from a local craftsman. The lamb’s wool bedding cushioned her delicate skin.
I glanced out the window. On the horizon was a scene resembling an epic Hollywood battle. Vidius stood with the first line of his army, shirtless, the sun glinting off the green gems embedded in his skin. I changed my sight, looking for any sign of power. Even from far away, I could see the glowing, green concentrated magic—Aristia’s magic. We all knew why Vidius was here, but no one thought he’d be so prepared. I would never allow him to take my daughter.
“Clarence, would you…” The words died on the air. “What on earth are you doing?”
He relaxed, easing the tense muscles of his naked physique and then let out an exasperated sigh. “What do you think I’m doing? The beast can do a lot more damage. Now turn around and stop ogling my naughty bits.”
I shook my head and focused my gaze out the window as Cyril and the others took up formation.
Vidius began his slow march toward Cyril.
Serra lay sleeping a few feet away from what could be the end of the world, and all I could think about was Aristia’s fear of my daughter. A goddess fearing Vidius. His rise to po
wer. How he was not only the enemy, but that without his interference, Serra would not exist. While gazing once again at her slumbering form, Clarence’s thoughts brought me back just before he nudged me with his nose.
“I love watching Linden with Serra. She may not believe it, but she was meant to be a mother. So natural.”
If only he knew how terrified I was. I smiled, but changed the subject, allowing him to keep his observations to himself as they were intended. “You know, I’ll never get used to seeing you like that.” I reached down and petted his velvety, bat-like ears.
“How come she never rubs my ears in human form?” The thought crossed his racing mind.
“Don’t start. I’m going to push that dresser in front of the door and wheel her bassinette into the bathroom. Should something happen, it will be the safest place for her.” I was careful not to wake her as I slid the bulky piece of furniture along the aged, wooden floorboards.
Once the dresser was in place, I returned to the window.
Cyril stood his ground as Vidius approached. The other men readied their weapons. A few seconds later, Vidius vanished into thin air as the horde descended, running in waves down the grassy hill.
My stomach fell. Vidius was coming for her, and I wouldn’t be able to see him. He’d be even more powerful. Anxiety gripped my chest. My heart pounded.
Clarence paced in front of the door.
Cyril and the others were surrounded by the magically bioengineered men in beast form. A concussion wave of magic radiated out from Cyril, knocking the creatures back, but it only slowed them for a moment.
With Vidius unaccounted for, I couldn’t let my guard down. The only way he would get to Serra was over my dead body. The chaos in my head increased, distracting me from my task. “Clarence, you have to stop thinking so much. You’re giving me a headache.”
Loud and clear he thought, “Are you fucking kidding me? How am I supposed to stop thinking at a time like this?”
In the foreground of the battle, a chant drifted on the wind, but the words were unintelligible. The melodic murmurs were followed by bright flashes of green light.