Mother Liana works silently between my knees, her voice a soft chant beneath the sound of thunder. Her prayers ripple like water through the room, steadying the chaos.
I’m honestly not sad I missed this part of life,Cursed One quips.
Can you not be so…youright now?I bite back.
Another contraction hits, and the pain rips me open again. I bite back a scream. “I can’t?—”
“Yes,you can.” Vann leans close until his forehead presses against mine. His breath is warm, his voice a promise. “You’ve survived gods and kings, Arlet. You can survive this.”
I choke on a laugh that turns into a sob. “What if she doesn’t breathe?”
She. I can hardly believe it, even now. Another girl. Another daughter for me and Vann. With her has come fear.
It’s the same fear that’s haunted me since I found out I was pregnant. The fear of loss, of an empty cradle, of watching another small heartbeat fade before it ever begins.
“She will,” he whispers. His thumb strokes my knuckles. “She’s as strong as her mother.”
Mother Liana’s voice cuts through, soft but firm. “It’s time, child. Push.”
“You can do this,” Estela says from the side. “The head is the hardest part. It will feel like you are on fire, but then, somehow, the pain fades. You will hear her cry soon.”
Ulla remains quiet and wipes a cloth over my forehead as I switch my position yet again. Anything to stop the incessant pressure.
“Push, my love. You have the strength,” Vann says, cutting through the rest of the world.
I do. I push until I think my bones might split apart, until the world narrows to nothing but pain and light and the sound of Vann’s voice calling my name.
And then—silence.
The world holds its breath.
For a heartbeat, I think the mountain itself has gone still. Then a sound breaks through the quiet.
A cry.
Thin and furious. Alive.
The noise tears a sob from my chest. My body goes slack as theweight of her is lifted from me, and then there’s warmth—wet, solid, real—being laid against my chest.
“Arlet,abre tus ojos. Ya llegó,” Vann says. “She’s beautiful.”
“She’s here,” Mother Liana murmurs, her voice breaking with joy. “Your daughter is here.”
“I can’t,” I say, ignoring Liana and speaking directly to my mate.
“You can.” He breathes in my ear. “We’re here. Your family is right here.”
I can’t stop crying. I press my trembling hand to her tiny back. And finally, I do.
Her skin is warm and soft, slick with birth and light. Her skin is a pale, purplish blue, and her tail curls around my finger.
Half-Enduar. Fully perfect.
Gods, she is so small.
When she opens her eyes, they glimmer silver blue, catching the light of the Fuegorra veins running through the stone.
“Vann,” I whisper. “Look at her.”