by Lillian Lark
Instead of laughing, Asa leaves his spot at his laptop and picks me up from my chair before setting me on him as a seat. It isn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but the heat of his body helps me relax some and his presence always has the effect of calming the brood inside me. Traitors.
Greg’s presence usually helps as well. It’s only my constant presence that leads to them wanting to throw around the breakables. Whenever I complain to Mom she laughs and says my sisters and I were worse. I don’t know how she did it.
I sigh in relief and lean into him as Asa rubs my lower back with one hand. Asa hums. “Today doesn’t seem like it’s been a great day for you.”
I scoff. “Neither was yesterday. Can’t you just nudge it along? I feel like I’m going to burst.”
Asa smiles but shakes his head. He’s already been forbidden by the midwife and Mom from inducing me. They told him that harpy magic is a particular thing. Stubborn. The clutch will make their entrance on their own timetable. Not mine.
“I’m so glad it’s you and not me,” Sophia says. She’s said this same sentiment so many times that I can mouth the words along with her. I’d throw something at her, but my heart isn’t in it. Sophia is usually so chipper when she says it, but lately her energy is gone. I’ve tried to pry but for all that Sophia likes to gossip about everyone else she refuses to talk about her own issues.
My muscles contract and I focus on trying to relax. Asa stops rubbing my back.
“Again?”
I’d had the same contractions throughout the morning. The midwife had said that random contractions are a thing and not to worry but I have an inkling of intuition that it’s something more. Hence asking Asa and Greg to stay close today for example.
My sisters also being around is a nice touch.
“Zephyrine, maybe we should call the midwife.” Asa is getting jumpy. From worry or excitement, I sometimes can’t tell. Just at that moment I feel a gush of fluid that must soak Asa’s lap. He sits up abruptly, eyes wide.
Embarrassment makes my voice squeak. “The midwife would be good since I’m pretty sure my water just broke.”
The chaos begins.
Asa
The flurry of excitement after Zephyrine’s water broke had finally subsided into what the midwife had called the long haul. Luckily, by that time all of the harpy family arrived and set up the birthing pool in the living room. I should not have been as surprised as I was when Zephyrine had told me that a harpy birth was a community event.
The community would traditionally include the immediate family and any harpy who wanted to show up. Tensions in the harpy community still exist at the idea of our mating. Zephyrine’s aunts are still persona non grata in this house but I suspect they will thaw soon.
The last meeting I had with the matriarchs, Fairuza had asked after her niece with words that had echoed with a mix of pride and regret. I think once the clutch is born, her and Jasmine will beat back their stubborn pride enough to make amends.
The group welcoming our daughters into the world is much smaller than the norm, only including Zephyrine’s immediate family, Greg, and I. She had extended an invitation to Mace, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had very gently declined and made plans to be on the other side of the globe. Demons usually aren’t around for births.
Nerves have me wishing I was also on the other side of the globe. Having been a war-time medic, I know some about how to deliver a baby but have never been in the situation of having a front-row seat. Every so often Gregory’s large hands descended to my tight shoulders, trying to calm me.
Gregory had witnessed his niece’s birth. He isn’t an expert, but he’s more experienced than I am.
I try to relax. No one is depending on my expertise. There is a terrifying harpy woman who has come around the past few months to ensure we had everything prepared for this moment. Harpies had done water births before they were popular. The birthing pool set up is one used by others for years and had spells on it to keep the water the right temperature and to ease the pains of birth.
There is no easing all of the pains. Birth is seen to be a rite of passage for a harpy, a test of wills. Every sound of pain emitted by my mate makes me flinch. I’m sure by the end of this whole process I’ll view harpies as the most barbaric of the paranormal beings.
The plan had been for Lucas and Luca to hang out in the kitchen while the women of the family surrounded the birthing pool to offer encouragement. Usually, as men, Gregory and I would have been regulated to the kitchen to wait but Zephyrine had insisted on our presence in the birthing pool. She is the one going through labor, who am I to refuse the request to get into the water?
Gregory and I had taken the spots that would have traditionally been filled by Amara and Sophia. Though both sisters were completely, enthusiastically, fine with being spectators instead of participants. It was all settled.
We should have known that our clutch wouldn’t have anything go to plan.
Throughout the labor, Gregory and I have done our best to help Zephyrine move around in whatever position she wants. At times using us as willing handholds or supports. It is more animalistic of a practice than I have ever seen. Every sob, pant, and scream tears into my soul. I’ve never felt so helpless.
As the first of our daughters comes into the world, Sophia faints. She is saved from falling face-first into the pool by Mace appearing out of nowhere to catch her. My best friend looks over at me holding a squirming squalling infant, and beams.
“Congratulations!” Mace says before picking up Sophia and carrying her toward the kitchen. Luca and Lucas run out, probably called forward by the screams of our eldest daughter. Lucas takes in the scene and respectfully bows out; I can see where Sophia may have gotten her squeamishness from. But Luca stands transfixed before being waved over by Hester.
The mewling infant squirms in my hands as the midwife looks her over. So incredibly tiny and odd-looking, all wrinkled and angry. Gregory and Zephyrine huddle close, tears streaming from their eyes. Our eldest is settled on my chest as the labor continues. It all happens blessedly quickly after that.
Our middle daughter is settled on Gregory’s chest when Luca stands up straighter.
“Something is wrong,” Zephyrine’s brother says. The midwife turns to the young man and gives him a narrow-eyed look. Her calmness in the face of Luca’s proclamation eases the stab of fear in me.
“The babe is in breech. It’s fine, we are just going to labor this one differently.” The midwife instructs Zephyrine on the position and time goes excruciatingly slow as the child is birthed, butt first. Since Gregory and I hold our daughters on our bare chests, Luca is the one helping Zephyrine with the positions.
When our youngest starts screaming, I breathe a sigh of relief and Zephyrine has the infant on her chest while the midwife instructs her on laboring the afterbirth.
The babies have made the rounds by the time everyone is dried off and the birthing pool is removed. We set up in the master bed as the rest of Zephyrine’s family starts the party downstairs. Harpies will take any reason to have a party.
It’s calm in the master bedroom as we hold our daughters. The tiny creatures fascinate me and I can’t keep from touching their little hands. Zephyrine looks worn out but happy.
“We should probably name them,” she says. They all have color-coded little hats. Harpies have something about remembering the birth order of clutches. Our daughters have been born into a world with traditions on traditions and all I want to do is hold them to us and keep everything away.
I don’t need the color-coding to know which child is which. Two have dark hair and one has light. The youngest with dark hair is mine by blood, I can sense it, and the eldest with dark hair is Gregory’s. The light-haired babe is the middle child.
I barely touch the cheek of our youngest in Zephyrine’s arms. “Shahzad.”
It’s fitting to name my blood daughter for the tale of the importance of trust when I was at my most lost. Zeph
yrine looks a little sad, never having met her grandmother.
Gregory looks at our eldest in my arms. “Hester.”
The child smacks my face and we all grin at the show of spirit.
Zephyrine smiles at Gregory and the only light-haired child. “Claire.”
Epilogue
Sophia
I wake in the lap of my tormentor. His presence tugs at my soul, like a magic homing beacon. His warm woodsmoke scent surrounds me, just as it had the last time we were in close quarters. Months ago, when he showed up to make me repay the favor he granted.
Why am I in Mace Reynolds’s lap? Why does he hold me as if this is comfortable for him?
Mace gives me a look that the novels Alice reads would call rakish. I glare back. The distant screeching of a baby gives me a timeline. All I remember is Asa lifting a goo-covered thing from the water and everything went sideways. At the memory, my sight starts to blur.
“No, you don’t.” Reynolds gives me a shake. “Think about something else, oh fierce harpy bond-mate.”
I blink rapidly. We are out on Zeph’s porch instead of in the house. The cool air on my skin helps center me. Deep breaths. Don’t think about things covered in gross stuff squirming. Mace gives me another shake and I continue the deep breaths now choosing to think about my presence on his lap.
“Don’t call me that. Why are you here?” I ask.
“I’m here because I was invited. Anyone will tell you that I got here just in time to keep you from going face-first in the birth water. You should bow before me in gratitude.”
I gag and go back to taking deep breaths. I am never getting pregnant. I feel Mace watching me, his eyes drawing lines over the features of my face. I don’t want to look at him.
What an awful name. Mace. I wonder if it’s one he chose or the one he was born with. From what I know he’s as old as Asa. I think they’re from the same place. While my brother-in-law has a face with sharp aristocratic features, Mace looks burlier. A bruiser who breaks people’s faces for a living instead of dealing with secrets. He isn’t ugly, his features are just too strong to be pretty.
“You look like shit, bond-mate; are you okay? I didn’t take you for a fainting type of harpy.”
I want to do something violent. He of all people should know why I look like I haven’t slept in forever.
“Don’t call me that,” I repeat through a clenched jaw.
Mace just lifts a brow. “It’s what you are.”
“Only because you tricked me.”
His chuckle is merciless. “You made a request and I granted it. I know Hester, so don’t tell me you weren’t warned about making deals with demons as a child. You aren’t an ignorant woman.”
One request uttered while drowning in guilt and despair has changed my life forever. Now when I lie in bed, my soul reaches out for someone who isn’t there. It shouldn’t be like this. It’s only supposed to be a transaction.
With Asa soul-bonding with my sister and Greg, Mace needed someone to bond to him and anchor him to this plane. It’s some complicated thing to do with demons and I don’t have all the details. I need those details so I can find a way to be released from this bond. We can’t stay like this.
“Don’t the dreams bother you?” I ask. Those wispy things that I wake from, full of craving, after just falling asleep.
Mace’s brows knit. “What dreams?”
Is it possible that he doesn’t know? My cheeks go hot and my stomach drops. Mace sees my reaction and smiles slowly.
“Oh, that’s a curious thing. Have you been dreaming about me, Sophia?”
The way he says my name is like being licked on the neck, disquieting but shiver-inducing. Bad and good. I’ve had many experiences of neck licking. I’m not a harpy who sits on the sidelines. Collecting experiences is my favorite hobby.
“It isn’t any of your business. What did I miss?”
I try to sit up, but he stops me, lulling me back into my position.
“Everything about you is my business.” He sounds too serious about that. Mace continues, “What did you miss? Other than all of your nieces’ births? Well, your brother apparently has an aptitude for birthing magic. There is a discussion happening in the kitchen about him starting training with the midwife as soon as possible.”
All of the births? How long has he been holding me? I let myself be distracted by the other information. “Luca is going to be a midwife?”
It should sound incongruous that my suave brother will be delivering babies but it’s not. Luca has always had a caretaking attribute to him.
“I hope the harpies will accept him,” I murmur.
“According to the scary midwife in there, they will.”
If Agnes says they’ll accept him then they will. I wouldn’t want to stand in her way. I feel stable enough that I force my way out of Mace’s lap.
“Why are you really here?”
“I sensed that you weren’t feeling well so I’m here to check on you.”
Mace can sense that? How many more things can he glean from the bond? The violation tastes bitter. This is supposed to be a clear-cut contract-like agreement, not give this near-stranger the ability to crack my shell and look inside. The whole business is untenably invasive. All the more reason to figure out a way out of this bond.
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I need you to stay healthy so you can keep up your end of the bargain. I also have some need of your assistance.”
My hopes rise. “Is that so? I think you needing my assistance bears some negotiation.”
“Oh, don’t get too excited, Sophia. We are just getting started,” Mace says as if he can read my mind. His tone dares me to push against him, to play.
If Mace needs anything from me, that gives me leverage. Leverage I’m sorely in need of. I can’t stay in this soul bond. The closer I can get to ferreting out the demon’s secrets, the more avenues I have to bend him into a different agreement.
If some eggs have to break to do that, then I better start cracking.
THE END
Don’t miss Sophia’s and Mace’s love story!
Pair of Fools releases in 2021
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Note from the Author
Hello Dear Reader!
Thank you for being among the first to read Three of Hearts! This is my first paranormal romance and MMF. Readers, let me tell you it was a wild ride.
If someone had told me that the second book I’d ever write would be a love story not just between two people, but involving three, I’d have politely expressed my doubts with a panicked look on my face. If they said I’d write and release it in 2020, the cursed year, I would have laughed in their face and apologize for my rudeness.
But Reader, this book was a delight to write. Asa, Greg, and Zeph flowed onto the page and every ridiculous interaction just made me happy. I’m not saying everything about this process was easy, but I’m glad I bit off such an intimidating project and ran with it.
I hope these characters bring you just as much delight as they brought me and am so excited to start writing Sophia and Mace. I can already tell their story is going to be a crazy one.
A special thank you to my beta readers who first laughed at my dog related wolf shifter jokes: Allison David, Cattaleya V. Giraldo, and Mickie.
Thank you for your support! Please leave a review if you enjoyed (or if you didn’t) to help other readers in their quest to find books that work for them.
L. Lark
Want to read more from Lillian Lark?
Tangled Wires is a Dark Romance with a Taste of Scifi
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Can a machine love?
I disappeared two months ago. The business world and newspapers lost their minds. I’m back now and have two goals: staying healthy and fulfilling a deathbed promise.
The one standing in my way?
He stepped in to run my father’s company after his death. He knows my secrets and I know his. I’m ready for the war between us but I’m not ready for him to want to be friends… Or something more.
Can I trust him? Can I trust myself?
He isn’t a logical choice. He isn’t even a person and I’m the only one who knows.
Tangled Wires
About the Author
Lillian Lark was born and raised in the saltiest of cities in Utah. Lillian is an avid reader, cat mom to three demons, and loves writing sexy stories that twist you up inside.
LillianLark.com
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