Chapter 19
It had been six months since Runa told me she was pregnant. Six months since my world narrowed to one truth, to protect her, to protect our child, and still, somehow, I kept finding new ways to fail at that promise.
I stood outside the reinforced door that led to the containment wing of our mansion a place no one but Draugr, Lucien, and I entered anymore. Beyond it, the air was colder, the scent of ash and holy oil sharp in my nose.
Colm…Runa’s father, had been here since the night I found him.
The doctor and Draugr had worked for months to purge the demon’s residue from his blood.
The process had been brutal: silver injections, blood transfusions, binding rituals that left the walls trembling.
He was better now, mostly lucid, mostly whole.
But not entirely. The corruption had left scars deeper than any blade.
Still, every day Runa asked about him.
Every day she looked at me with those honey eyes full of hope, full of a love I couldn’t lie to anymore.
And every day the doctor warned me that her heart rate was too high, that the baby was reacting to her stress.
So, here I was. Doing the one thing I swore I wouldn’t. Bringing Colm home.
He looked up when I entered looking older, worn thin, but more human than he’d been months ago. The black veins were gone from his temples. His hands were steady now, though his eyes still carried that haunted flicker, like something still whispered at the edges of his mind.
“Volken,” he rasped, his voice gravelly from disuse. “You said you’d let me see her.”
“I did,” I said flatly. “But you need to listen carefully.”
He gave a slow nod, and I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “She doesn’t know what you’ve been through. She doesn’t need to. You tell her you were hurt; you tell her you’re healing…that’s it. You so much as hint at what happened in that warehouse, and I will end you. Do you understand me?”
His eyes narrowed faintly, some ghost of defiance sparking in them. “You think I’d hurt my daughter?”
I took another step, close enough that he could see the flash of my fangs, the predator behind the civility. “I think you already did. Maybe not by choice, maybe not by your hand, but I won’t risk her again. She’s fragile now. Too much excitement could…”
“I get it,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll be careful.”
I studied him a long moment, then finally nodded. “Let’s go.”
When we reached our room, Runa was already awake, her nurse had texted me earlier saying she refused to rest until I came back.
She was sitting up in bed when we entered, propped against pillows, the swell of her stomach more pronounced than I’d ever seen. Her hair was loose, her cheeks pale but glowing. And when she saw who walked in behind me…
She froze.
“Dad?”
Colm’s face crumpled. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Her sob broke something in me. She reached for him, tears spilling down her face as he crossed the room in halting steps. When they embraced, I saw her shoulders shake, saw her fingers clutch at his shirt like she was seven years old again.
“Dad, I thought…I thought you were gone.”
“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”
For a moment, I let it happen. Let them have that human thing I could never fully understand that raw, fragile connection. But then her breathing hitched.
Too fast. Too shallow. The scent of adrenaline spiked in the room, sharp and wrong.
“Runa,” I said, crossing to her side. “Breathe, little one. Slow down.”
But she was trembling, clutching her stomach, a gasp breaking through her tears. “Volken…something’s wrong…”
I caught her before she could double over. “Colt! Get the fucking car ready, now!” I roar as I pick her up.
Colm stumbled back, pale, his hands useless at his sides.
Her contractions came fast, too fast, her nails digging into my arm.
“It’s too soon,” she whispered, panic in her voice.
“I know, baby, I know.” I say holding her close to my chest carefully, every muscle screaming not to hurt her, and carried her down the stairs. Colt already had the SUV running. The guards were shouting orders, clearing paths, but I barely heard them.
All I could hear was her heartbeat, it was uneven, fragile. And the second one, smaller, faster. Our child’s.
“Hold on,” I murmured, sliding into the back seat with her cradled against me. “Just hold on.”
The drive to the clinic was a blur of sirens and red lights we didn’t stop for. By the time we burst through the doors, the doctor was already waiting.
They took her from my arms gently, but it felt like tearing skin from bone. I followed as far as they’d let me, until the nurse pushed me back.
“Mr. Dragic, please she needs calm. Stress will make it worse.”
I wanted to tear the walls down. “You think I can stand here while…”
“Volken.”
The voice came from behind me…deep and steady, grounding.
Viking.
He was already there, somehow, his hair tied back, eyes sharp but calm. He stepped into my path, a solid wall of brotherly force.
“Let them work,” he said.
“She’s contracting at six months!” I hissed. “She could lose the baby!”
Viking’s hand came up, gripping the back of my neck with a firm hold, brother to brother, not dominance, but tethering. “Breathe.”
I did. Barely.
“She’s strong,” he said. “That woman of yours she’s got fight in her. Like Sorcha. Like Layla. They don’t break easy.”
My fists clenched at my sides. “I should never have brought her father to her. I…”
“Stop,” Viking interrupted. “You did what any of us would’ve done. She needed closure. You didn’t do this. Fate did.”
A door opened then, and the doctor stepped out. My body went rigid.
“She’s stable,” he said, and I nearly collapsed with relief. “We managed to stop the contractions for now, but she needs strict bed rest. Any further stress could trigger preterm labour. If the baby comes now, survival is uncertain.”
My jaw locked. “What do I need to do?”
The doctor gave me a look that cut through every defence I had. “Keep her calm. Keep her safe. That means no more surprises, no more excitement. She needs peace, Volken. You have to be her anchor.”
When he left, I leaned against the wall, running a hand through my hair, every muscle shaking.
Viking stayed quiet for a long time, then muttered, “You’re a damn good man, even if you forget it sometimes.”
I huffed out something that might have been a laugh. “You think she’ll forgive me?”
“She already has,” Viking said. “Women like her they don’t love half-measures. They love us at our worst, and they drag us back when we fall.”
I nodded slowly, the tension finally bleeding out of me.
“Go to her,” he said, clapping a hand to my shoulder. “Before she wakes up and starts yelling.”
I managed a smile, it’s weak, but real as I make my way back to her room.
Runa was asleep, the lines of fear softened on her face, her hand resting protectively over her belly.
I sank into the chair beside her, taking her hand carefully in mine.
Her skin was still a little too cool, her pulse too fragile beneath my fingertips.
Every breath she took was a reminder of how close I’d come to losing everything.
“I’ll never scare you like that again,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “You and our child are everything. I can’t live without you.”
The words caught somewhere between confession and prayer. My chest ached as I lowered my head, resting my forehead against the back of her hand. The scent of her the warmth, honey, and the faint trace of my own blood in her veins filled every corner of me, grounding and gutting me all at once.
This was my fault. If I’d waited…If I’d thought…
If I hadn’t let her father walk back into her life when she was this fragile…
My jaw tightened as guilt clawed at my insides. She could’ve died because I’d wanted to give her hope. Because I’d been weak. Because I’d been selfish.
“I should’ve protected you from everything,” I murmured, my voice shaking against her hand. “Even the things you thought you needed.”
Her fingers twitched faintly in her sleep, the smallest response, and I lifted my head, pressing a kiss to her knuckles like a vow carved in blood. “You and this baby, you’re my whole world, Runa. I swear I’ll keep you safe. Even from me.”
The door creaked open behind me, soft but firm. I didn’t bother looking up.
“Volken,” came the low, weary voice of the doctor. “It’s almost dawn.”
I stayed where I was, my hand still wrapped around hers. “I’m not leaving her.”
The doctor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You know the risk. Your strength fades with the light. You’ll be dead weight if she needs you.”
“I said I’m not leaving.” My tone came out sharp enough to make him flinch.
A heavier set of footsteps entered slower, more deliberate. “He’s right,” Viking said, his voice calm but unyielding. “You can’t stay, brother.”
I looked up at him, every muscle in my body tense. “I won’t leave her here alone. Not when she’s like this.”
“She won’t be alone,” Viking said, crossing his arms. “Ivan and Gideon are already on their way. They’ll stay until nightfall.”
“It’s not enough.”
“It’s all you can do,” Viking said, his tone turning harder. “You staying will do nothing but weaken you. And if something happens tomorrow, she’ll need you whole.”
I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. “I can’t just…”
Before I could finish, a soft voice broke through the tension.
“Volken…”
Her voice was faint, hoarse from exhaustion, but it froze me. I turned instantly to see her eyes flutter open, unfocused but warm.
She gave me a small, trembling smile. “You should go, love.”
“Not a chance,” I said immediately, tightening my hold on her hand. “You need me here.”
She blinked slowly, her gaze searching mine. “You being stubborn is stressing me out more than the contractions did.”
Viking snorted softly from behind me. “She’s got you there.”
I shot him a glare, but Runa’s lips curved into the tiniest smirk. Even half-conscious, she was impossible to argue with.
“Please,” she whispered. “For me. Go. Rest. Come back tonight.”
I sat there for a long moment, every instinct screaming to stay. I didn’t want to leave her side not even for an hour, not when the scent of antiseptic and fear still lingered in the air.
But Viking was right. The doctor was right. And worse, she was right.
My hand shook slightly as I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You promise to stay in bed?”
Her eyelids drooped, and she gave a sleepy nod. “If you promise to come back, besides I’m going to sleep the whole day.”
I leaned down, pressing my lips to her forehead, lingering there until I could feel her heartbeat against mine. “Always,” I murmured. “There’s nowhere else I’ll ever go.”
When I straightened, Viking gave me a knowing look, the kind only an older brother could. “She’ll be fine. You won’t, if you don’t move before sunrise.”
I hesitated at the door, glancing back one last time. She’d already drifted off again, her hand still resting protectively over her belly.
“I’m leaving two changelings outside her door,” I said quietly to the doctor as we stepped into the hall. “They don’t move. Not for anyone but me or Viking. Understood?”
“Understood,” the doctor said.
Viking clapped me on the shoulder as we walked out into the hallway. “You’ll drive yourself mad before this baby’s born.”
I huffed out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Too late for that.”
And as the first rays of sunlight began to creep through the hospital’s frosted windows, I looked back once more, whispering to myself the only truth that mattered, “She’s my life. Both of them.”
Then I stepped into the fading dark and let Viking drag me home before the light could take me too.