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Chapter Twenty-Three

Loria’s POVSaturday morning arrived heavy.Literally.My stomach had doubled in size in just four days. Whatever threshold I’d crossed sometime in the night left my skin tight, my back aching, and my bladder in a state of constant rebellion. I shifted beneath the covers with a groan, already dreading the simple act of getting up.Zerina stirred in the back of my mind, half growl, half sympathy.“You need help,” she grumbled. “Even your ankles have given up.”“My ankles,” I muttered aloud, swinging my legs over the side of the bed with a grimace, “disappeared three days ago.”I managed to shuffle to the bathroom with one hand braced against the wall, the other under the curve of my stomach. I didn’t get far before Simon was there, appearing like a shadow made of steel and nerves.“You should’ve called me,” he said gently, already supporting my elbow. “You don’t need to do this alone.”“I had to pee,” I snapped softly. “Calling you in to supervise would’ve made it worse.”Still, I didn

Chapter Twenty-Four

Simon’s POVThe tub was already steaming gently when I left Loria with Amy.I stayed long enough to help her in—hands gentle at her elbows, slow guidance as she stepped into the wide porcelain basin like a queen climbing aboard a ship. Even with her stomach so swollen she couldn’t see her feet, she moved like gravity bowed to her. Or maybe I just loved her too much to see her any other way.Amy stayed behind, perched on a little stool with a towel across her lap and a soft voice ready to distract or comfort. Loria had sighed into the water like it was the first good thing to touch her in days. I wanted her to have at least a little peace.Then I turned to face the storm building outside.The house was full of motion.Doc Hathaway’s van had backed halfway up the path, and two of her team members were already unloading the last round of neonatal gear. It wasn’t a few boxes. It was a full mobile NICU packed into our home. I caught one of the crates before it could tilt, righting the edge

Chapter Twenty-Five

Simon’s POVThe house had finally gone quiet.Loria had drifted off hours ago, her breathing uneven but deep, her hand resting over the swell of her stomach. She mumbled now and then in her sleep, brows twitching with dreams she wouldn’t remember and wouldn’t tell me even if she did. Zerina had curled low in her subconscious hours before, protective even in slumber.And me?I couldn’t sleep. Not yet.The quiet of the house was deceptive. On the surface, everything was peaceful. Calm. But beyond the curtain that now split our room, hidden from Loria’s view, waited a battlefield dressed in chrome and sterile plastics.I needed to see it. Really see it.I rose quietly, careful not to wake her, and crossed to the other side of the room. The curtains gave way beneath my hand with a soft whisper of fabric, and I stepped through.It was like walking into a hidden wing of a hospital.The incubators were still humming gently, their internal thermostats calibrated to neonatal perfection. The ve

Chapter Twenty-Six

The smell of eggs and cinnamon toast followed me down the hallway as I carried Loria's breakfast tray, balancing it in one hand while rubbing sleep from my eyes with the other. It was early—too early for anyone to be moving around—but the house had long since stopped being a place of rest. Soft shuffles, the hum of monitors, whispered voices from the new wing… they were the new rhythm of life.I was rounding the corner when the front door creaked open. Doc Hathaway stepped inside, braid tight and coat half-unzipped, clipboard tucked under one arm like it was fused there. She looked more alert than anyone had the right to be at this hour—like she’d already been awake for hours, prepared for a crisis that hadn’t happened yet but still might."Doc," I said, pausing near the edge of the kitchen. "You’re early."She nodded once, sharp and efficient, her eyes already scanning the hallway like she was cataloging invisible threats. “Wanted to catch you before you disappeared into nurse-duty.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Loria’s POVI was already awake when the door creaked open.I’d been staring at the ceiling for who knows how long, my arms draped across the ever-growing mountain of my stomach. Sleep had come in pieces last night—thin, restless pieces—and I felt frayed around the edges. Zerina stirred quietly, curled in the back of my mind like a wolf beneath a stormy sky.Simon stepped in first, carrying a tray that smelled like cinnamon and eggs. Doc Hathaway followed, her boots clicking softly on the polished floor. I didn’t need to look at her face to know something was coming. The air around her carried it—too steady, too focused.“Morning,” Simon said gently, walking to my side and kissing my temple. His hand brushed my hair back from my forehead. “You okay?”“Tired,” I whispered. “And heavy.”Doc set her clipboard down and rubbed sanitizer between her palms. “Before you eat, I’d like to do your morning check.”I nodded, already shifting to pull back the blanket. It took more effort than I lik

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Simon’s POVI stayed quiet after Doc left.There wasn’t anything I could say that wouldn’t break something. Loria’s face was pale, her fingers cold in mine despite the blanket pulled over her legs. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t screamed. She hadn’t done anything but breathe, and still… I could feel her shaking inside.So I didn’t speak. I just stayed beside her, holding her hand.She didn’t pull away.Time passed in slow, shallow breaths. I adjusted her pillows when she shifted uncomfortably, helped her sip water through a straw, rubbed her lower back when she grimaced and whispered that the pressure was worse tonight.“It’s okay,” I told her softly. “Just breathe. We’re okay.”But even I didn’t believe that anymore.Her belly was tighter than it had been this morning—high and heavy and far too still. I’d memorized the rhythm of their movements over the last few days, and I knew when they were active. Tonight, they were quiet. Resting, maybe. Or conserving energy.I didn’t ask her how

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Loria’s POVThe pale gray of dawn filtered through the hospital room’s wide windows, soft and hazy. For a long moment, I didn’t move—just listened.No beeping alarms. No shifting monitors. Just the low, steady hum of the machines and the occasional rustle of movement.My fingers instinctively found the curve of my belly, now so taut and heavy it felt like the weight of the sky had settled inside me. The pressure never left anymore. Neither did the ache in my lower back or the burn beneath my ribs. But I’d grown used to the discomfort, like a second skin.What I wasn’t used to… was waking up alone.I blinked slowly, turning my head. Instead of Simon’s familiar silhouette curled in the bedside chair, I saw Andy—perched cross-legged at the edge of the room, a soft skein of yarn floating between his hands. He wasn’t using needles. Of course he wasn’t. The threads wove themselves midair, gently pulled and tucked under his guidance, forming a pale seafoam-green blanket that hovered with a f

Chapter Thirty

Loria’s POVAmy arrived just as the golden morning light started to fill the corners of the room.She gave Andy a look that only parents and best friends understood—soft, grateful, knowing. He stood from the window seat where he’d been half-dozing while watching the last stitches of his magic knitting finish themselves in the air.“You’re relieved,” Amy said gently, her hand brushing Venus’s blanket as if to bless it.“Good,” Andy muttered with a lopsided yawn. “She’s overdue for a nap, and so am I.”He turned back to me, eyes soft. “You okay, Lo?”I nodded. “Thanks for staying.”“You kidding?” He leaned in and kissed the top of my head. “I wouldn’t have missed this disaster for the world.”I rolled my eyes but smiled as he slipped out the door, cradling Venus like she was the most precious spell he’d ever cast. Which, I suppose, she was.Amy clapped her hands softly together and looked at me like a general surveying her next battle. “Alright, Luna. What’s the word from Doc? Bath day?

Chapter Thirty-One

Amy’s POVI moved slowly, methodically, letting my fingers speak care and steadiness as I worked the shampoo through Loria’s long, wild curls. Her hair was stunning—thick, tight coils that seemed to hold memories and magic both. It deserved reverence, not rushing.“Okay, sweetheart,” I murmured, gently tilting her head. “I’m going to rinse—eyes closed.”Warm water poured in soft, gliding rivulets over her scalp. I cradled her neck with one hand, directing the flow with the other, careful to avoid her ears and eyes. The basin behind her filled steadily, catching every drop as I worked.“Now for conditioner,” I said, smiling to myself. “You’ve got that thick, curly goddess hair. It needs love.”A chuckle slipped from her, soft and dry. “If you detangle it without making me cry, I’ll put you in the will.”“I’ll take that as high praise.”I worked the conditioner through her hair in sections, using my fingers more than the wide-tooth comb I’d brought. Coil by coil, knot by knot—I untangle

Chapter Thirty-Two

Loria’s POVThat hadn’t been just a cramp. I knew it.I just kept telling myself not to panic. Doc Hathaway was coming, and everything was going to be okay.It is going to be okay.Breathe.In.Out.Don’t panic.My hand rubbed over the huge swell that had once been my stomach.Amy walked over to my side and pushed a button on one of the machines that had been off before now. She pulled out a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around my arm. From a sealed package, she removed one of those sticky oxygen monitors and pointed to my hand.“I need your index finger.”I held it out, marveling at her calmness.She hit a button, and the cuff began to inflate. Then she disappeared through the curtains and returned with a machine I didn’t recognize, disappearing once more before returning with a box of gloves.“Loria, I’m going to hook you up to fetal monitors,” she said gently. “Doc was in the middle of stitching someone up, but she said to give her eight minutes.”“O-okay,” I murmured.Amy ope

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