Chapter 7
Leena stood near the bed, gripping the back of a chair so tightly her knuckles had blanched white. Her face was drained of color, her skin slick with sweat, dark lashes clumped as she fought to breathe through shallow, ragged gasps.
Every sharp inhale betrayed the pain she was failing to contain.
“Leena?”
Rhen’s voice came out harsher than intended, thick with something he despised recognizing.
Fear.
He was beside her in an instant, instinct overriding thought. One second she stood across the room; the next his hand was firm against her shoulder, his body angled between her and the rest of the chamber as though the danger had a physical shape he could confront.
“What is happening?”
She tried to smile.
Gods, she tried.
It collapsed when another brutal wave of pain tore through her. Her body jolted, breath ripping from her lungs as her fingers closed around Rhen’s arm. She folded forward with a strangled gasp, her weight pitching toward him.
“Rhen.” Her voice barely carried. “I—I’m scared.”
Something inside him fractured.
A curse hissed between his teeth, vicious and cold.
He was not supposed to let it show. The feeling itself was old, unwanted, and useless. Acting upon it had never been an option.
He loved her.
The knowledge was repulsive to him and quietly understood by every male in the clan. Leena belonged to Sule—in heart, blood, and choice. Rhen’s loyalty made that boundary absolute.
But none of those truths stopped fear from cutting through him when her knees failed.
He caught her and pulled her against his chest, one hand spread between her shoulder blades, the other bracing her weight.
Her skin burned beneath his touch.
Rhen lowered his mouth once to her damp hairline, the gesture escaping before discipline could stop it.
“I know,” he said, his voice raw. “I know.”
The admission tasted like weakness.
He swallowed it anyway.
Another violent contraction shuddered through Leena’s body. She gasped and gripped the front of his shirt, clinging as though the stone floor had vanished beneath her.
When her legs gave out completely, Rhen adjusted his hold and lowered her into the chair beside the bed.
Leena folded over her swollen belly, breathing in short, broken pulls as the contraction refused to release her.
“Breathe,” Rhen ordered, crouching in front of her. “Slow it down. Come on.”
“I c-can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Her eyes squeezed shut. Her entire body tightened before a guttural sound broke from her throat.
It tore through him like a blade.
His hands moved once, uncertain of where they could help without hurting her, before one settled firmly between her shoulder blades.
Rhen did not comfort people.
He removed threats.
He ended pain by giving it a body and then destroying that body.
There was nothing here he could kill.
Leena sobbed once, her forehead dropping against his chest.
“Rhen,” she gasped. “I can’t do this.”
He caught her chin and forced her to look at him.
“Yes, you can. You will.”
She shook her head, tears spilling freely now.
“Look at me.”
His voice cut hard through the panic.
“You are the strongest damn woman I have ever known. You will do this.”
Her breath came in harsh, uneven gasps, but her gaze remained fixed on his.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’ve got you until Sule gets here.”
Her fingers tightened in his shirt as another contraction struck.
Rhen held her as though letting her fall would be an unforgivable failure against Sule, the clan, and the one person he loved enough to fear losing.
His phone buzzed.
The sound was obscene in the violence of the moment.
He pulled it free with one hand.
Sule: Is she still with you? I’m coming to the room.
Malakai’s warning had clearly already dragged him from the council chamber.
Rhen’s thumb moved rapidly across the screen.
Rhen: Move. She’s about to drop your heir on my fucking shitkickers.
The reply indicator had barely vanished when footsteps thundered down the corridor.
The door slammed open.
Sule entered with murder and terror written across his face. His gaze found Rhen first, then dropped immediately to Leena folded against him.
For one heartbeat, the two males looked at each other.
The old, unspoken truth passed between them—Rhen loved her, Sule knew it, and neither had ever doubted where Leena’s heart or Rhen’s loyalty belonged.
There was no rivalry here.
Only fear.
Sule dropped beside them and reached for her hand.
“I’m here, my love.”
Leena’s fingers closed around his without her opening her eyes.
Rhen kept one arm braced around her only until Sule had secured her other side. He would not release her abruptly while her legs were still failing.
“What took you so fucking—”
Rhen stopped himself.
Now was not the time.
“We need the birth medic.”
Sule nodded.
“Call her.”
Rhen hit star four—the compound’s royal medical emergency line—and ordered the birth medic to the eastern suite.
Leena’s hands searched blindly between the two males.
Rhen caught one.
Sule held the other.
Her body trembled violently, hair sticking to her cheeks while she fought for breath.
“You’ve got this,” Rhen said close to her ear. “Hold on.”
Sule stroked his thumb repeatedly over her knuckles.
“I’m right here.”
The door opened again.
Dax entered first, Malakai close behind, both tense and charged from the alarm.
“The birth medic is on her way,” Dax said.
His gaze swept over Leena before moving to the unconscious woman still twisting weakly beneath the sheets.
Rhen’s voice sharpened.
“Get her out. Now.”
Dax and Malakai moved without hesitation. They lifted the woman with controlled precision, supporting her head and keeping the human body still while it remained trapped in transition.
They carried her into the adjoining warded suite.
The door closed heavily behind them.
With the bed clear, Sule and Rhen lifted Leena onto the mattress. Rhen supported her shoulders while Sule positioned himself beside her.
Another contraction seized her before they had settled her fully.
Leena screamed.
Her fingers found Rhen’s shirt again and closed around it with desperate strength.
“I’m here,” he said, cupping the side of her face long enough to bring her focus back to him. “Stay with us.”
Sule remained pressed close to her other side, his jaw clenched, one hand locked around hers.
Rhen could feel the king’s fear in every rigid movement.
Leena’s strength faltered.
Still, she reached for both of them.
Still, she held on.
“I’m not leaving you,” Sule said, his voice breaking against her hair. “Not for a second.”
Leena opened her eyes.
“I know.”
The words struck Rhen harder than they should have.
He adjusted his hold as another tremor ran through her.
Sule’s gaze met his over the crown of her head.
Rhen knew what Sule saw.
Fear.
Not the wild panic of prey.
The cold kind that closed around the throat when the person a male would die for might not survive.
“Where the fuck is that medic?” Rhen demanded.
“She is coming,” Sule said. “Keep Leena steady.”
Rhen nodded once.
His arms tightened around her like a shield.
He did not know how to make this gentle.
He knew only how to remain.
Leena whimpered and folded forward.
Rhen moved with her, one hand bracing her waist while the other held firm between her shoulders.
“Breathe.”
Another contraction slammed through her, tearing a sharp cry from her throat.
She leaned harder into him, fingers fisting his shirt.
Behind her, Sule smoothed damp hair away from her face, his hands shaking despite the control in his voice.
Malakai’s message flashed across Sule’s phone.
Malakai: Birth medic is ten minutes out. Where do you need us?
Sule typed with one hand.
Sule: Keep the other female stable. Send the medic upstairs the second she arrives.
He shoved the phone aside.
“Ten minutes.”
Rhen’s gaze met his.
Both understood.
The birth medic would not reach them before the child did.
The contractions stopped releasing Leena fully. Pressure replaced pain, low and overwhelming, and her body began bearing down before either male told her to.
Leena gasped.
“I can feel him.”
Rhen’s arms tightened around her waist.
“We’re here. Focus on my voice.”
Sule moved toward the foot of the bed, terror hollowing his expression before discipline forced his hands steady.
Another contraction surged.
Leena cried out against Rhen’s chest.
Sule watched the change in the shape of her belly and the instinctive way her body pushed.
“Now,” he said. “It’s happening now.”
Leena’s gaze flickered between them, exhausted but blazing with resolve.
Sule positioned himself with trembling hands.
“Push, love. I’m here.”
Leena bore down, her entire body straining as she clung to Rhen.
Her breathing turned frantic.
Rhen locked one arm behind her shoulders and gave her something solid to push against.
“You know what to do,” he said. “Do not fight your body.”
She screamed, the sound shattering against stone.
The child crowned.
For one breathless instant, the room went still.
Then a cry broke through the silence.
Soft at first.
Questioning.
Then stronger.
A piercing wail split the tension apart.
Sule lifted his son with shaking hands, blood-slick, furious, and alive.
His face broke open.
Rhen had never seen his king look so stripped of rank, violence, or command.
Only wonder remained.
Leena sagged against Rhen, limp with exhaustion but breathing.
Alive.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“Sule,” she whispered. “Is he—”
“He’s here.” Sule swallowed hard. “He’s perfect.”
Rhen looked down at Leena.
She had endured pain that would have broken trained warriors and still fought her way through it.
He moved one damp strand of hair away from her eyes before immediately withdrawing his hand.
Sule wrapped the child in the nearest clean blanket and returned to her side. He lowered the baby carefully into Leena’s arms, though his hands hovered as if he could not bear to release either of them.
When she saw her son properly, Leena smiled.
Weak.
Radiant.
Entirely hers.
“He’s beautiful.”
Sule dropped to his knees beside her and pressed his mouth to her forehead.
Tears moved silently down his face.
“You brought him here,” he said. “Thank you.”
Leena looked down at the child, fingertips brushing his tiny features.
Rhen stepped back.
He folded his arms across his chest, armor closing around him again.
He did not belong at the center of this moment.
It belonged to Leena, Sule, and their son.
The child was proof that something could come from blood and prophecy without becoming another weapon.
Rhen did not know what to do with that knowledge.
Leena lifted her eyes toward him.
“Rhen.”
He looked at her.
“Thank you.”
Rhen stepped closer and rested one hand briefly on her shoulder.
Sule watched without jealousy.
He had always known exactly what Leena was to Rhen—and exactly what Rhen would never allow himself to become.
“I didn’t do anything,” Rhen muttered. “This was all you.”
Leena’s quiet laugh carried between them.
Rhen’s gaze moved to the child.
A tiny life.
Blinking. Wailing. Real.
Proof that Leena’s suffering had ended in something other than loss.
The door opened.
Rhen turned instantly, his body tightening before he recognized Dax in the doorway.
Dax stopped when he saw Leena with the child against her chest, Sule kneeling beside them, and Rhen standing guard at the edge of the room.
A long breath left him.
“Is it done?”
Rhen nodded once.
“Yeah.”
Dax entered carefully, his heavy boots suddenly quiet.
“Damn,” he murmured. “He’s actually here.”
A shaken smile touched Sule’s mouth.
“He’s here.”
Dax’s ice-blue eyes softened as he studied the newborn.
“The others will want to see him, but I’ll keep them out. The birth medic just reached the wing. She’s scrubbing in now.”
Sule nodded.
“Thank you.”
Dax looked at Leena.
“You did good. Real damn good.”
Leena managed a tired smile.
“Thank you, Dax.”
He left, closing the door quietly behind him.
The silence that followed was not empty.
It was filled with warmth, breath, and the newborn’s small sounds.
Rhen took one step toward the door.
“I’m out.”
“Rhen.”
Leena’s voice stopped him.
He looked back.
She held the child against her chest, her arms trembling with exhaustion, but her gaze remained steady.
“Stay.”
The word landed like a blow.
Rhen looked toward Sule.
Instinct told him this was not his place.
Sule met his gaze and gave one small nod.
Permission.
Gratitude.
A brother’s acknowledgment of everything neither male would ever put into words.
Rhen returned to the bedside but remained beyond the intimate circle of Sule’s arm.
“Thank you,” Leena whispered. “For everything.”
Rhen could not answer.
He nodded once and forced every forbidden word back behind his teeth.
Leena’s eyes closed as exhaustion finally claimed her.
Sule shifted nearer, one hand resting protectively over the child while he watched the rise and fall of Leena’s chest.
The fire crackled.
The newborn breathed.
Rhen stood guard.
He knew the name of the emotion settling beneath his ribs.
He simply hated it too much to speak it.
It still disgusted him.
It still felt like weakness.
But Leena had asked him to stay, Sule had permitted it, and loyalty gave him a place to stand.
So he stayed.