Chapter 46 Raven
FORTY-SIX
RAVEN
Amorning fog clung to the docks, curling around the ankles of the men loading crates, the quiet lapping of water against hulls underscoring the tension in the air.
My mother stood motionless beside me, her gaze vacant and her coat flapping in the frigid Glasgow wind. She looked like a shell of a person, completely hollow and broken.
But she was breathing. She was alive.
Aiden’s hand pressed gently to the small of my back, steadying me.
“She’ll heal,” he said, voice low. “I’ve arranged for the best care. Dr. Tristan Bennetti should be waiting for us when we get back to the yacht.”
Across from us, my newly discovered aunt clasped my hands, her eyes glassy but strong.
“We’ll see each other again,” she whispered before brushing a kiss against my cheek. Her husband stood like a solid, protective wall.
They’d severed ties with Duncan years ago, but not the organization. Aiden had insisted that keeping alliances with the right people mattered.
He trusted these people. And I trusted him.
He shook hands with my aunt’s husband, then with her, nodding. “Keep things contained here. Handle the fallout.”
“We will,” she assured him. “Until the new heir is ready.”
My stomach twisted at the word. Heir.
I glanced at my mother, but she either hadn’t heard or chose not to react. Ever since I regained consciousness in that cold dungeon, she hadn’t reacted to anything.
Not when I bathed her and changed her into clean clothes. Not when I cried seeing the state she was in. The angry purple and black bruises covered her body, marring her ivory skin. Except for her belly. That patch of skin remained untouched.
Duncan wanted to make sure he got his heir. And I… I wanted to see him killed over and over again.
“We have to go,” Aiden said, yanking me from my dark thoughts.
He moved, helping me into the sleek black boat, then reached for my mother, handling her with reverent care. She wordlessly stepped down into the cabin like a ghost drifting toward its grave.
Inside, the warmth hit. The walls gleamed with lacquered wood and polished brass while seats were lined with velvet. After the events of the last several hours, the luxury put me at ease.
I took a seat and held my mother close, and then Aiden wrapped himself around both of us.
The low rumble of the engines started up before it took us across the water.
No sooner had we set foot on Aiden’s superyacht than an indignant voice pierced the air like a dagger, and my mother flinched in my arms. Her first reaction to anything since we found her.
“Would someone like to explain why I was dragged away from a black-tie fundraiser?” a booming man’s voice barked as he stormed toward us, coat flaring behind him. “I’m not an on-call doctor, Aiden!”
“Nice to see you too,” Kyran grumbled, ignoring the man and heading for the cabin. They must have had similar encounters in the past.
“Welcome aboard, Doc,” Tyran added, following his brother.
The doctor’s Italian leather shoes squeaked on the wood floor, and Aiden shot him a glare. “You know the rule: no shoes on the boat, Tristan.”
Ah, this had to be Dr. Bennetti.
He looked to be in his mid-forties, judging by the sprinkling of gray at his temple.
“Fuck you, man. You dragged me onto this monstrosity, so you’ll put up with my shoes. Besides, your combat boots are still on.”
Aiden steered me into the cabin, where a black medical bag sat on the table, while Dr. Bennetti continued his rambling. “I was in the middle of charming the Dutch ambassador’s wife, and your cronies interrupted my—”
I sat my mom down on the couch, then crouched beside her.
“You can resume your flirting tomorrow,” Aiden said flatly, nodding in my mom’s direction. “She needs you more.”
Tristan rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to protest, but then his gaze landed on my mom. His expression fractured, the humor bleeding from his face.
The crimson bench she was propped on only made the bruises on her skin stand out starkly. Or maybe it was the fact that she was sickly pale underneath them.
Just then, she gasped, her abdomen trembling, and liquid soaked through her clothes and onto the plush velvet seat.
“Is that…” I stared at the wet mark spreading down her legs. “Did her water just break?”
“Christ,” Tristan breathed, kneeling down in an instant. “When did she go into labor?” He looked at me like I knew the answers while I watched him in shock. He snapped his fingers as if to wake me up. “How long has she been having contractions?”
“Watch it, Tristan,” Aiden growled. “That’s my wife you’re talking to.”
The doctor didn’t appear fazed. Instead, he asked, “Well?”
“I… She… She hasn’t said a word,” I whispered, “I didn’t notice she was in pain.”
God, what a horrible daughter I was.
Tristan snapped on gloves, a clinical expression contorting his face. “Who did this to her?”
“Her husband,” Aiden answered. “He’s dead now.”
Dr. Bennetti nodded as if pleased. “She’s in shock, but she’s definitely in labor. This could escalate fast. I need lights, hot towels, and a flat surface. Now.”
“Clearing the table,” Tyran shouted.
Aiden scooped her up and laid her on it while the doctor unzipped his bag, revealing tools that gleamed under the cabin lights.
The twins disappeared just as Tristan started a pelvic exam. My mother’s hand jolted suddenly, a low whimper escaping her throat. Her fingers clawed weakly at her belly.
“She’s hemorrhaging,” Tristan muttered. “And the baby hasn’t descended. We don’t have time for this to go natural.”
“What do you mean?” I questioned, taking Mom’s hand in mine.
“He’ll have to do a C-section,” Aiden explained.
“But we’re not in the hospital,” I hissed, panic slowly rising within me.
“No time,” Tristan barked. “This would not be my preferred choice, but if we wait for a hospital, they’ll both die.”
“What?”
Aiden grabbed my hand, tugging me away. “Do it.”
My mother’s eyes fluttered open briefly, her lips moving. I leaned in, but no words left her.
I locked my gaze with Tristan and nodded, barely able to find my voice. “Save her. Both of them. Please.”
He started with pain medication, then sterilized both his workspace and my mother’s skin.
The yacht’s engines rumbled softly beneath us, an eerie contrast to the chaos in the cabin. Heat lamps were dragged over. The lights above buzzed to life. The air grew heavy, the scent of antiseptic filling every corner of it.
“Scalpel,” Tristan ordered.
Aiden looked at it and then at the doctor. “You really want me to touch it without gloves?”
Tristan let out a frustrated breath, reaching for it himself. “It’s a habit. Never mind, I got it.”
The doctor worked efficiently, his movements precise and his attention unwavering while Aiden and I watched with bated breath. Tristan made the first incision.
A low whimper pierced the silence. “No… Baby monster… Kill…”
Tristan froze mid-movement as Mom’s soft, broken cries filled the cabin. Her cries turned to gasps, and then to screams as her pain clawed through the numbing agents.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “Mom… It’s okay. It’s almost over.”
“M-monster…”
Tristan pressed his lips into a tight line while he worked on her, sweat beading on his brow.
“Your baby is innocent,” I whispered as Mom moved her head left to right. “Just like I was. He’ll be like you and me.”
The room felt suspended in time. Outside, waves slapped gently against the hull, a lullaby at odds with the brutal miracle unfolding inside.
And then a cry broke through the air.
Tristan held up the blood-covered, wriggling infant with his cord still intact.
“A healthy baby boy,” he announced, his tone cautious as he spoke to Mom. “Would you like to hold him?”
“No.” She looked away, her eyes returning to their earlier bleakness as she stared at the ceiling.
“Mom…” I pleaded.
“Get it… away from me,” she whimpered.
Tears broke free as Aiden appeared at my side, his voice tight. “She’s been through a lot. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Tristan moved to cut the cord, then quickly cleaned the newborn, wrapping him in a soft white towel and checking his vitals.
“He’s strong,” he murmured.
Mom whimpered again, her eyelids growing heavier. “Monster… Get it away from me…”
I stood frozen, torn between my mother’s broken form and the new life now wailing in Tristan’s arms.
“He’s my brother,” I choked out, but she was already asleep.
Aiden reached over, his voice low but resolute. “We’ll take him.” Gently, he accepted the child from Tristan’s arms and held him, his eyes meeting mine. “If that’s okay with you?”
I pressed a kiss on my mom’s forehead and then joined my husband, wrapping my arms around both of them.
“Yes, we’ll love him and keep him safe.”
“Raise him as our own,” Aiden concluded, and I knew there was no man I could ever love more. “Together.”