Chapter 18 #2
"That's not normal," Clio muttered, but she kept her voice calm and professional. "Even in magical births, there should be breaks between—"
Her words were cut off as the next contraction erupted through me like molten metal in my veins. The babies' magic responded in kind. Their combined power created a maelstrom that made every piece of electronic equipment in our yard spark and die. Car alarms started wailing in our garage.
Nina winced as her tablet went completely dark, but she didn't spare it a glance. Instead, she remained beside me. Her young face was set with determination. "Tell me what you need, Mom. Anything."
"Just... stay close," I managed between gasps. "Don't let them take you too."
The back of Clio’s hand went to my forehead.
She checked my pulse next. "Your heart rate is too high.” Her touch moved over my belly with professional efficiency next.
“The babies' positioning..." She frowned.
"Something's wrong. They're not moving into position. It's like they're fighting the birth."
"Because they're terrified," I said through gritted teeth. "They can feel Lyra getting stronger with every contraction.”
“They’re feeding off of your thoughts, Phoebe. You think that if they stay inside, you can keep fighting her," Tarja pointed out. “You need to shield your thoughts from them.”
“I’m trying,” I gritted out as Aidon supported me.
“We should move inside the house,” Nana pointed out. “Unless you want to give birth out here for all to see."
Shaking my head, I barely sucked in a breath when another surge of pain crashed through me.
This time the magical backlash was visible.
Golden, blue, and purple light erupted from my skin, creating a light show that painted everyone's faces in otherworldly colors.
The beauty of it was completely ruined by the agony that made my vision blur white at the edges.
Aidon carried me into the house and took the stairs two at a time until we reached our room. He deposited me on the bed and climbed on beside me. Clio was right there, sending healing energy through me.
It felt like an eternity as the healer kept feeling my stomach.
Finally, she looked up at Aidon and said, "This can't continue.
" Her professional mask had slipped to show real fear.
"The magical strain is going to kill you.
And if the babies won't move into position.
.. I don't know how to deliver babies who are actively using their magic to resist birth. "
"Can you calm them?" Aidon asked, his hands moving to frame my face. The pain stole my voice. All I could do was shake my head. My efforts with them weren’t working.
Clio made a noise I barely heard. "The babies are in distress.
" Those words slammed into me like a physical blow.
Each syllable added to the terror already clawing at my chest. She knelt beside my bed.
Her usually steady hands trembled as they pressed against my swollen belly.
The professional mask she always wore had cracked.
"Their fear is causing them to resist the natural birthing process. "
My world tilted sideways. Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, Aidon's emotions crashed over me like a tidal wave.
His rage at his own helplessness was enough to make it hard to breathe.
Add to that his desperate love for our children.
And underneath it all was a terror so deep it made my fear look like a gentle whisper.
His hand found mine, squeezing so tight I thought my bones might crack.
I welcomed the pain. It grounded me when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
"We need to find a way to get them out, or we're going to lose them." Clio's voice broke on the last word. Something inside me shattered completely. Lose them. The thought was like having my soul ripped from my body while I was still breathing.
The healer who had delivered half the magical babies in the city was admitting defeat. "I'm out of my depth here. This is a magical crisis that happens to involve labor. I need help."
Aidon's anguish slammed into me through our bond.
His silent howl of fury and helplessness made my chest ache for him.
His free hand clenched into a fist, his magic crackling along his skin like barely contained lightning.
He was fighting every instinct that screamed at him to do something, to fix this, to protect us.
But there was nothing he could do. That knowledge was eating him alive from the inside out.
Clio looked toward the foot of my bed, where Hades and Persephone stood like living statues carved from shadow and starlight. "Your grandchildren are fighting the birthing process," she told them. "I don't know how to convince them it's safe."
Hades stepped forward, and the very foundation of the house seemed to hold its breath.
His power didn't crash against the walls.
It seeped into them. This wasn't the kind of magic that could be fought or reasoned with.
This was the power that governed every ending, every beginning, every moment when one thing became another.
"Little ones." His voice rolled through the magical chaos like thunder. Underneath it was something that made my chest tight with unexpected emotion. Warmth. Love. It was the voice of a grandfather who would move mountains for his family. "Your fear serves no one. Trust in your strength."
Persephone glided to his side. Her power was gentle but absolutely certain. Her presence washed over me like warm rain after a drought. It carried with it the scent of new growth and fresh beginnings.
"You are surrounded by family, my darlings," she crooned. "We are here to protect you and your mother. Your grandfather will not allow anything to happen to you."
For one heart-stopping moment, I felt the babies' terror waver. Hope bloomed in my chest so suddenly that I gasped. Aidon's emotions shifted, too. His dread gave way to a fragile relief that felt like holding a soap bubble. It was beautiful but ready to burst at the slightest wrong move.
Another wave of magical backlash tore through me like shards of broken glass.
Nyssa's shadows exploded outward in a burst of pure, undiluted panic.
Her fear crashed into her siblings through whatever connection they shared in the womb.
All three of them yanked their magic inward with the desperate strength of drowning swimmers.
"They're still too scared," I sobbed, the words ripping from my throat as exhaustion, pain, and frustration collided in a perfect storm of misery. Tears I didn't remember shedding burned hot tracks down my cheeks. I could taste salt and desperation on my lips.
Aidon's anguish hit me so hard I actually saw stars. I was reeling from the emotions that I almost missed the vast hunger lurking in the spaces between worlds. It was drawn by the labor like a shark scenting blood in the water. Shit. Lyra was coming.