by Karey Brown
“They’re ripping me apart!”
Cianna placed her hand upon Emily’s belly. “Come,” she ordered Emily’s father. “You must partake in this, if she is to survive.”
“If she is to survive?” Broc paled. He moved to offer his hand for Emily to squeeze. A gesture he instantly regretted, not realizing the power within a birthing woman. He’d be lucky to ever grasp his sword again. Her father’s arm bled where she’d bitten.
“These are Lumynari children. Because she carries two, they will battle for first rights.” Cianna looked steadily at Inzyr. “You know what to do. Place your hands upon her now. You must dominate them or they will kill her!” Her vehemence shocked Maeve, Cianna otherwise a very reserved woman.
Emily screamed. Kicking commenced within her womb. Her stomach contorted under the sheet. “Help . . . me!” She shouted so loudly, Broc wondered if his tower guardsmen would come running. Maybe he could run out as they ran in.
“Forgive me your human modesty, daughter.” Inzyr yanked down the sheet, and with both very strong hands, spread them upon her swollen belly.
Brutal motion within her womb abruptly ceased.
So relieved, not caring if Broc’s entire garrison marched in while she was naked, Emily collapsed.
“Allen, a plaid,” Broc quietly ordered. The ghost vanished and reappeared so fast, Broc scowled. Gently, the laird covered Emily’s breasts. She smiled weakly, though her eyes remained closed. Apparently, the Forest Lord minded her nudity.
“Nay, lass, but I wondered if ye’ would feel a bit more comfortable.”
“I’m . . . thinking out loud?”
“Aye.”
Blessed moments passed allowing her to breathe without agony. If this was only the first few minutes, what would the duration be like while waiting to dilate? Nervous crying started. Excitement and terror clashed as violently as her unborn children. “Please. Please. Hasn’t anything been invented in your world for the pain?”
Inzyr chuckled. “I am the relief you seek, daughter.” Dressed similar to how Dezenial used to, black leather leggings, and baldric strapped diagonally across his torso, black wristbands, warrior garb belying the gentleness his strong hand currently offered; hands responsible for the mutilation and murder of scores of enemies. He was muttering again.
“What are you saying?” Broc demanded.
“It’s okay. He enthralls them with tales of their father, the battles they both fought and won.” Emily inhaled deeply. “And threatens to thrash them, should they kick me one more time.”
“They understand this?” Allen asked.
“Allen!”
“I am not going to miss this event by pacing with that pack of wild men downstairs. They’ve heard your screams. Erchyll yells his prayers, crossing himself every time he looks at your . . . uh . . . your guests guarding the stairs. Colin plays his cello attempting to cover your screams . . . or Reignsfeugh’s piping. A bloody madhouse filled with nutters! You cannot make me. I will not partake in that melee!”
Emily’s door banged open. Though she flinched, her father’s concentration never wavered. “Oh my God!”
Aedan, Garreck, Colin, and Erchyll waltzed in as if appearing for the noon meal.
“How did you get past my guards,” Inzyr growled.
“Holy water,” Erchyll piped up.
Broc choked.
“I’m naked here!”
“And a foyn bonny lass ye’ be,” Erchyll quipped. Ashen, Colin duly clobbered the priest.
“Make them leave,” she whined, grateful her father tucked a sheet around her for modesty’s sake. “Broc, I’ll set fire to your castle if you don’t get rid of them.” But she could tell by the laird’s fixation upon her father’s hands, her labor was about all he could concentrate on at the moment. “Who’s panting?” Pain began building.
Colin walked through the English ghost, ignoring Allen’s sputtering about ill manners, and re-opened Emily’s door. Eldaryn paced, tongues hanging. Panting exchanged for whimpers. He stopped, suddenly, and looked straight at her. “You are finished?”
“Come . . . lay beside me . . . Rover.”
“Now see here! You cannot allow something like that—“
“He has protected me for a long time, Allen. Do you see him . . . out there? He’ll wear a hole in Maeve’s fine rugs.”
“Oh, you do have a point. Maeve is most unreas—“
“Yes, Sassenach?” Maeve said, standing to her full height. Which wasn’t much.
“Having a dog in the room can’t be any worse than having a spirit hover over me,” Emily grumbled.
“Indeed,” Allen said, rocking back on his heels.
Maeve dabbed Emily’s brow with a cool lightly scented cloth. She too was muttering. Pagan words bathing Emily in calmness. Emily smiled weakly. “I think Danu hears my screams.”
Maeve laughed. “ ‘Tis always worse, your fist time. Aedan near kilt’ me.” She patted Emily’s arm, and resumed her mutterings and ministrations.
“You must begin to push. It is time,” Cianna whispered, and lowered herself in front of Emily.
“Can’t be. My first. Not dilated.”
“You are Lumynari,” her father announced. “Your time is now.” His eyes blazed. “You have been commanded to push by a high priestess.”
“Cianna’s a—“
“You prove most difficult, daughter!” He began applying pressure to her abdomen. Emily smacked his hands. Broc grabbed hers. Inzyr shouted something and Vaide took his stand beside her, a long silver box clutched in his imposing hands.
“What’s his purpose?” Broc demanded. Birthing rooms were for females. A private affair. Weren’t men supposed to be away from this? Drinking foyn scotch? Visions of Emily feeding from this being’s neck would take time to accustom to, but he promised this time he’d not be fool enough to judge, nor allow any others to judge her.
“Fusing. If I begin to bleed . . . to death . . . Vaide will cut himself, and fuse with me to save my life.”
“This is what you discussed downstairs, in your father’s language?”
“He is sent from her father-in-law,” Inzyr growled. “Hades has lost a son. He will not lose a daughter. I have my orders.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“You will not stop him, or I will die. And he will avenge me, Broc. On that, I cannot command him otherwise. Keep your men back, should it become necessary.” She puffed air in short gasps. “All . . . will be annihilated . . . if Vaide is stopped and I die as a result.”
“Do not stop me, human, from saving our queen.”
Broc didn’t bother glancing up at the deep voice speaking over him. There was just too much to digest at the moment. Draw his sword, or jump from the window? He hadn’t quite made up his mind yet.
Emily looked to her sire. “Take them . . . take them from my womb, if I don’t make it.”
“Emil—“
“Swear oath!”
Motion suspended.
Her father finally yielded his word.
“I charge . . . you with . . . their life,” she hissed. “You . . . as well, Broc.”
Emily threw her head back and screamed.
Quickly, Broc explained what she’d been muttering to him in between breathing and panting. His men grudgingly gave their assent. They’d not interfere. They were lax about hiding their grins, their laird having found himself saddled with a Lumynari as joint guardians over the wee lass’s babies. Hidden from the MacLarrin, wagers were whispered and placed.
“Now, daughter!” Inzyr released his hold, repositioning himself with Cianna. He looked up at Emily’s face, imprisoning her gaze. “I will hold your firstborn, as Dezenial held you.”
“You knew?” She gulped, arched her neck, acute pain spearing her.
“I have not been amused by the besiegement of your fears. Your thoughts have plagued me until rather annoying.”
Emily grinned.
Erchyll crossed himself.
“Shall I sen
d . . . you a . . . visual now?” She screamed and bit into Broc’s arm when the laird held tight, not allowing her to punch him.
“Outlander! Position yourself behind my daughter. You will help push the children you are going to sire.” Broc didn’t have time to remove his boots. Nor dwell on how the bloody ‘ell Inzyr knew of his offer to Emily. Straddling behind the ferocious tiny woman, he tugged her back against him. And arm banded below her breasts, his other hand grasping her forehead. She clawed and squeezed his arm.
“She is forbidden to hold her breath when pushing. It can rupture her brain. Do you understand?”
Broc was incredulous. Colin made note, muttering for Erchyll to remind him of this tidbit later. Broc could only nod at the Lumynari, mute.
I’m not supposed to be in here. This is woman’s domain.
Emily pinched his arm. “Well, you are in here, so . . . help me!”
“My thoughts—“
“Were out loud, aye, laird,” Garreck said.
Erchyll began praying. Colin watched with utmost interest. Garreck eased back. “You will not make your escape, brother!” Broc bellowed. Emily winced. “Mi’ apologies, lass.”
“Now, Outlander!”
“Push, lass. Push and tell Erchyll how much ye’ ‘ate his prayin’.”
“Shut . . . up . . . your fucking . . . noise, priest!” Emily screamed, breathed, collapsed, screamed, pushed, and screamed again. “Why . . . have me talk?” she gasped.
“Ta’ keep ye’ breathing,” Broc said, lopsided grin and helpless shrug following.
Emily’s teeth sank into his arm. Broc wished it manly to scream. They could chorus together. Eldaryn lifted both heads and howled.
Erchyll swooned, crashing heavily to the floor. Stunned silence was broken by Allen’s eruption of laughter while pointing down at the priest.
“Blasted Sassenach!” Garreck drew his sword and impaled the ghost.
“Now that’s just bloody rude!” Allen yelled, looking aghast down at his torso.
Emily’s scream caused them all to hush and grit their teeth.
“The male won battle to enter first,” Inzyr boasted. Grin fell from his face as he did a double-take, looking from the sword, to Allen, then to Emily. “A strong warrior, he will be. You reside in bedlam, daughter.”
“Shouldn’t . . . shouldn’t you have a blanket or towel—“
“First contact is to be flesh-to-flesh,” Inzyr schooled. “As it was for you. His name, daughter?”
“Denzyr.”
Inzyr’s throat bobbed. His chest swelled. And his eyes watered. A curt nod, his acknowledgement of the high honor bestowed him.
Denzyr made his entrance true to his father. Silent and scowling. A small fist waved, already threatening the world. Emily shakily fell back against a soaked laird. He was working miracles at keeping her hair from plastering her face and neck. For that small wonder, she would be eternally grateful. Wonder filled her, the look upon her father’s face, the deadly assassin gazing down at his grandson. Bored, her son stretched his tiny arms, then settled into the giant hands cupping his messy little body and fell asleep. Inzyr snorted. “Just as arrogant as your sire.”
“And his grandfather.”
Inzyr presented a viewing of his grandson to Vaide who in turn muttered words, then wound a tiny gold chain around her son’s wrist. Vaide yanked a small gold blade free from his jerkin. Pricking Denzyr’s tiny fingers, he repeated the motion on himself. Fingertips were joined and pressed together, blood mixing between infant and deadly Daemon Elite.
“What are you doing,” Broc and Emily chimed.
“As I swore allegiance to your father, Vaide is swearing allegiance to your son.” He handed off the little warrior to Maeve.
“Every boy should have his own assassin. I can’t thank you enough.”
Broc chuckled against her.
“Your insolence will only earn you a beating, vaifyr.” Inzyr beamed, as only a new lunatic grandfather does. His fanged grin caused Erchyll to revisit Emily’s floor.
Emily giggled, louder when she spied her father’s scowl over Maeve’s clucking and cooing while cleaning his grandson, then swaddling him in an ancient shawl. A beautiful pin was clipped to the cloth, his forehead anointed with scented oil.
“He’s Lumynari, not a puppy,” Inzyr hissed.
Maeve smiled. “Aye, but he’s my Lumynari. Hush and tend yer’ daughter.”
“I think the only god he hasn’t yet been blessed by is the one from my world,” Emily whispered up at Broc.
The next seventeen minutes were the deepest sleep Emily had ever experienced. Muted voices cradled her.
The little drama queen screamed her indignation as soon as her rosebud mouth was cleared. A dozen Forest Lords charged the room, swords drawn. Emily screamed, thrashing the sheet over herself.
“S’blood! The wee lass bellowed like tha’?” Reignsfeugh flung himself from the squalling newborn, fear marring his face.
“I say we’ve found ourselves a new piper,” Colin shouted above the din. It succeeded in making the infant scream louder.
“Her name,” Inzyr yelled.
“Kendara.”
Again, he was visibly moved. “For your mother.”
Emily nodded, too deafened and exhausted to say much more. Kendara shrilled again. Maeve passed Denzyr to Emily and plucked the screaming lass from her grandfather’s arms, scowling up at the Shadow Master. “She’s cold.” Waving off Inzyr’s growl and show of fangs, Maeve cooed over the infant, drying and wrapping her as she’d done for the wee lad. It was to no avail. Kendara’s lungs expanded, spewing banshee scream after scream. Emily handed her son to Inzyr. Broc still held Emily, shock and amazement dulling his reaction to the chaos surrounding them. “Give her to me,” Emily ordered, reaching out for her. But still, the tiny girl wailed. “She’s a twin. Place Denzyr here, next to her on the bed.” Emily patted the blankets, frantic. Screaming escalated. “Oh my God! Something’s wrong! Something’s hurting her! Kendara, it’s momma.” Gingerly, Emily picked up her tiny daughter, patting her back, holding her closely.
Emily cried. Maeve wrung her hands. Kendara screamed in Broc’s face, the laird thinking to cup her tiny head. Seemed the daughter would be much like the mother, forever screaming at him. He would have laughed if his ears didn’t feel like they were going to pop off his head. He spied Eldaryn slinking from the chamber, both tails tucked tightly. “Coward!”
Kendara screamed louder.
Broc reddened. “Oops.”
What was wrong with her baby? She couldn’t even comfort—wailing became shrieking. Emily cried harder, confused. Was this due to Dezenial not being here? Was there some Lumynari bonding that was supposed to take place, but with him no longer . . . gaze narrowed on her father. Unaffected, he stood there, arms folded. “Are you grinning?”
Aedan plucked Kendara from Emily’s arms. “We’ll no’ be ‘aven’ anymore of yer’ nonsense. Ye’ve made yerself known, we ken yer’ finally here, now ta’ sleep wi’ ye’, lass.”
Kendara nestled into the crook of Aedan’s arm, her little face turning into his chest, and with a shuddered sigh, she slept.
“Oh-my-God,” Emily whispered, stunned.
Inzyr merely shrugged. “You had the same reaction.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, or help?”
“And spoil my revenge? After your screaming, Emily, I couldn’t hear for a full week. Thought I’d reciprocate. As Dezenial seemed to be the only one to calm you, I simply waited to see who would be the one for her.”
“I claim her,” Aedan announced, his gaze yet to lift from the infant dwarfed even more against his huge chest.
Emily silenced. Air refused to exit from the chasm of her lungs.
“A Lumynari princess and a Fey prince—“
Maeve gasped. “How do you come to know this?”
Inzyr’s smile was friendly and warm. “The only true threat to a Shadow Master are the Fey. You have an aura surrounding you, Si
ster of the Woods, enabling us to know when your kind is near.”
“And how do you come to know of mi’ Aedan’s royal heritage?”
Inzyr leaned closer and whispered so only the shield master’s mother could hear. She reared, eyes wide. “Oh. Oh, well, I see.”
“Indonin?”
“The Fey royal has claimed my granddaughter to one day be his life-mate, as Dezenial did with you. Kendara does not have her father here to acquiesce. So,” Inzyr’s grin was almost maniacal, “it will be up to myself and Broc, whom you have chosen to sire your children in Dezenial’s stead.”
Emily choked back tears. “Aedan, what little girls do to cats—“
“I will make a fine husband.”
“What happened to your brogue?”
“His true self emerges, enveloping Kendara with comfort, enabling her to rest.”
Emily smirked at her father. “Well, aren’t you just a wealth of information.”
Inzyr’s brow arched.
Tomb silence befell them, or so it seemed after the assault they all took to their hearing. Emily stared at Aedan. Aedan stared down at Kendara.
“ ‘Tis your choice, lass,” Broc whispered. His breath tickled, fluttering something long dead. But, she’d drank from Vaide. None now, save for him, would be able to handle her, should she unleash.
“Yer’ auld enough ta’ be her ancestor,” Colin whispered, terrified he’d awaken the banshee.
“A relic,” Reignsfeugh added.
Emily glanced down at her son, sleeping next to her thigh. Just like her father, he completely ignored female tantrums. “A fine husband you will make, Aedan,” Emily said softly. So softly, Aedan almost missed her answer. “One condition.”
“Aye?”
“If she doesn’t freely love you, as a woman loves a man, and no magical influence is allowed, Aedan, she’s free to choose another without interference or sabotage from you. And, Aedan, you must take blood oath you will accept that she is Lumynari . . . and Daemon. You will have to offer fealty to Hades.” She eyed Vaide. Her son had his first member to his elite circle. “You will have strange visitors, Aedan, and must be ready to accommodate or assassinate without questioning your wife.” Her gaze swiveled back to the son of Fey. “She will surpass you in power, cunning and weaponry. Issues?”