The Final Chapter
One annus and a few diurnals later…
Daphne
“I will murder every last one of you while you sleep,” I snarl at the quad of muscle wearing variations of amusement on their stupid, pretty faces.
Theo smirks. Yes, you’ll still be pretty even when you’re dead, which is going to happen any tempo...
“Breathe between the contractions,” Genie reminds me.
I glare at the mystical being who will be godfather to the first and only child I will ever birth, because there is no way in the realm that I am ever going to put myself through this again. I’m great at adoption—just ask my friends.
“Why can’t we be more seahorse?” I growl.
Gwyneth pauses as she pats my damp forehead with a cool, damp cloth. “I’m afraid to ask.”
“The males do all this, and birth not one, but loads of the little suckers.” Her lips twitch as I yank on Malachi’s arm and growl. “You could have been a seahorse. Why weren’t you a seahorse?”
“Should I call for the doctor?” Eron asks from the mirror against the wall. “She seems a little more chaotic than normal.”
Yes, call the doctor. I need some of those happy juices. Anything to make this stop.
“No, all is well. It’s the most natural and wondrous thing,” Theo replies.
I glare at him. “Then you do it.”
“Maybe if you lay down?” Nash encourages.
I grip the post at the end of the bed and cradle my bulging stomach.
Pain. It’s just pain. I’ve survived worse, although I can’t think of what just this tempo. Death, I suppose. Drowning too. No, this is still worse. It’s down my legs, in my back, around my stomach, and for some unfathomable reason, my left earlobe is throbbing.
I grit my teeth and do what I’ve been told. Breathe. Just breathe. In, out, in, oww.
Freaking bunkum poop on a stick. That’s not normal. It can’t be. How we haven’t died out as a species when this is the cost of continuing the population, I will never know.
“I want no more sausage ever again,” I growl. “It should be classified as a weapon of floof destruction. From now on, I shall only consume lettuce.”
“Should I get her some?” Malachi murmurs.
“No, doofus,” Nash answers.
“I’m a little shocked by the amount and different types of fluid,” Theo says.
Seriously? He snacks on still moving, and heart beating animals, and my fluids are a surprise?
“Try being the one secreting the damn fluids.” I groan as the pressure increases and sweat trickles down my spine. “I think I need to push.”
“Okay, okay,” Genie says. “It’s happening. Man your stations.”
Manning my damn station is what got us here.
A gentle knock sounds at the door, and I give Gwyneth my best death glare when she moves to open it. I need her here. She’s the only person in this room who doesn’t have the offending genitalia.
Charming peeks over her head, and I curl my lip. “Do you need anything?”
Yeah, less smarmy, more barmy.
Hart grabs a few clean towels, and Nash steps to the bottom of the bed.
“No. Check back in a turn,” my sister says before shutting the door in his face.
I draw the line at Prince—I mean King—Charming being in the room. That’s right. They got hitched and crowned, and look at that—I still have all my eyes.
My chin touches my chest as I bear down and do what my body urges me to do. Push.
“Just a few pushes, Daphne, and you get to meet our baby,” Malachi says, giving me his best happy-chappy grin that makes me want to murder him.
“No smiling,” Theo instructs. “She might actually kill you.”
Gwyneth rushes back over and clasps my other hand. When it looks like Malachi is going to come to my other side, I growl.
“I warned you about the smiling,” Theo grumbles. He takes my other hand, leaving the other three mellows to stand on ceremony at the bottom of the bed.
“You should probably lift the sheet and place the towels underneath her butt,” Genie says.
“What do you mean ‘probably?’” I snap. “You said you knew what you were doing. Probably is not knowing. It’s guessing.”
He peers down at me from his position above the bed. “No, I said I’d witnessed a few births, and you declared that was practically overqualified, so you’d make do with me over a stranger. I did read several books.”
“Did they mention the fluids?” Malachi mutters.
“Stop talking about my damn fluids and do something. No, cancel that,” I shout. “I can’t stand your face.”
“Should I leave?”
“Absolutely not,” Gwyneth says.
“I should leave,” I decide. “We can adopt. I hear the Pied Piper is looking for homes for his kids.”
“Maybe after this,” Hart says.
I grit my teeth and push with the most indescribable pain known to anyone.
“Oh, is that?” Nash murmurs. All three stupid faces lower to gaze between my legs. Making babies was fun. This is not. I feel like I’m being split in two like a damn coconut. No, more like a melon. I could do with some melon right now.
“I think she’s crowning,” Malachi adds.
I’ll crown his stupid face with my fist if he keeps staring at my burning floof like it’s the answer to all his prayers.
“No more floof for you,” I yell, telling my brain to bring my legs together and make good on that promise. It doesn’t obey.
Hart’s lips twitch. Oh no, not you too.
“Take your lips out of the room.”
“Oh my, yes, I do believe she’s crowning,” Eron declares.
Gwyneth tilts her head. I yank on her hand and glare. “Do not leave me.”
Why haven’t the lips left? And why is no one listening to me?
“Almost there, Daphne,” Theo murmurs. He can stay, along with his lips. “I know it’s scary, but you have totally got this. We can face anything together, remember?”
I nod and then stop trying to work against my body and do what it demands. I push hard and sweet, sweet relief rushes through me. My head flops back, and the sound of beautiful crying erupts in the room. I did it. I made and birthed a beautiful baby.
“Everything okay?” I check.
Genie nods as Hart moves between my legs, and a moment later, I have a baby on my chest.
“We have a daughter,” he whispers before placing a kiss on my damp temple.
She’s so freaking tiny that I’m both in awe and utterly terrified at the same time. She flicks her tongue out like she’s trying to blow a raspberry, making me smile.
“She’s beautiful,” Gwyneth murmurs.
My stomach feels weird. Of course it does—the tiny life that existed in there for the better part of an annus is now in the world. No, wait, definitely weird.
“Have we decided on a name for her?” Nash wonders.
I shake my head. I mean, we have names, but I can’t process what’s happening right now.
“Take her,” I say to my sister.
She blinks and scoops up the tiny, precious bundle from my arms.
“I’m still having contractions,” I mutter, my head sinking onto the pillow.
Genie nods. “Yes, all normal. It’s called the afterbirth.”
“You mean there’s more?” Malachi asks, looking a little pale.
“Hey, smiley, don’t you dare faint. If I have to feel the pain, the least you can do is witness it.”
He nods once but edges toward the side of the bed. Mellow.
I screw up my face and groan low.
“Are you sure that’s normal?” Hart asks.
Theo hasn’t left my side, keeping me grounded with his hand wrapped around mine. Gwyneth wanders to the bottom of the bed before her eyes lift to mine, filled with wonder. My floof is not that wonderful, and I’m sure it ain’t looking particularly pretty right now.
She glances at the babe in her arms and then at Genie, who’s still hovering and tilting. He tilts his head. “They shouldn’t be as painful though,” he says.
The worst contraction yet hits, taking me by surprise, and in the absence of my sister, I do the only logical thing I can think of. I bite Theo’s arm. He growls but doesn’t move away.
“That is a tad dramatic,” Genie mutters.
“It’s not the first time, and it’s unlikely to be the last,” Theo drawls. Weirdo.
“Um, Genie,” Gwyneth says as I release Theo from my teeth. “Does afterbirth have a head?”
“Oh my,” Eron adds. “I do believe that’s...”
I cry out and push with everything I have, blocking out everyone in the room. It’s just me, my stupid sausage-loving floof, and a kingdom’s worth of pain. I think I’m being punished for every misdeed and every curse.
“Keep going, pretty mouse, you’ve got this,” Theo says. Why is he smiling? Is he happier with the afterbirth than the birth of his actual child? Yes, we decided they will have four dads. The kingdom will just have to deal with it. It’s a new era indeed.
I bite him again out of spite, this time for having the audacity to smile. I strictly forbade it. He smiles wider, so I bite harder until I taste blood, which earns me a growl.
Growl all you want. That’s the last floof action you are ever going to see.
“Just one more push,” Genie encourages.
The intense pressure hits again, followed by relief. I let Theo go and sigh. “That was not less painful. The afterbirth hurts just as bad,” I inform them. “Also, why is my sweet baby girl crying with an echo?”
Nash comes over to my free side. “Daphne, meet your son.”
My eyes pop as he places another baby on my chest. “You put twins inside me?” I breathe. “Fucking twins? Seriously? Why do you have to be such overachievers? Be average like the rest of us.”
“You could never be average,” Nash whispers, kissing my brow. “So, what are their names?”
Gwyneth hands Theo our daughter, who slides her onto my chest. Her little tongue is still peeking out, while her brother wears a huge frown. Guess these twins are following the happy twin, grumpy twin rule, with a dash of chaos and disaster thrown in.
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Welcome to the new world, beautiful Selene.” I turn to smile at my son who, despite his demeanor, I know in my bones is hiding something unfathomable behind those big eyes as he blinks up at me. “And baby Helios.”
“Beautiful names,” Hart says.
“How did you come up with them?” Gwyneth wonders.
I shrug as I gaze into the eyes of a new era. “They came to me in a dream.”