37. Chapter 37
thirty-seven
Hue
Lyr’ael feeds me another small fraction of a petal underneath my veil as I grit my teeth against my desire to let loose a volley of profanity and screams. The water sloshes around me as I pant, nude, clinging to the edge like a life raft.
Raised voices from the neighboring room have me opening my mouth to scream at the males to stop arguing when a pointed look from Me’alma reminds me that this is the part of the labor where I’m supposed to endure it stoically.
That’s fucking bullshit, this shit hurts.
A small whimper escapes me as I push into my squat, deepening the horrible ripping pressure between my legs.
I nearly lost my mind when the females at the temple told me males are forbidden from joining females at the birth.
Something about it undermines the females’ trust in the goddesses to see them through.
Which is also why any second now these females will leave me to birth my first child alone.
My mate, on the other hand, did lose his mind in the next moment when the Balla’mar informed him the Kalzait prince was demanding to remain planetside until after the birth and allowed him entry to the dome, then the temple common area only a short while later.
The three have been arguing in the next room ever since.
Apparently, the inciting event for the Balla’mar was when Ravian commented that he’s intrigued to see whatever morbid amalgamation of flesh comes out of me.
Sor’en apparently just desperately wants them to both shut up so he can pace in peace.
Melion had been sending me snapshots of the males but stopped a while ago when I threatened to light all of them on fire.
I stifle my groan in the crook of my arm as pain rips through my middle half. Managing to totally blank out the blessings of balance from Me’alma and Lyr’ael before they fuck all the way off and leave me here to die.
I pant when I feel my body open in the most horrific way.
Not a rip but something of a give. Everything in me screams to push harder, just a little bit more.
My entire being trembling with such violence that it vibrates the water as I watch in fascination as a dark head and shoulders slip free from me.
I finally cry out, ripping the stupid veil from my head as I pull my baby from the water and into my arms. The moment a tiny little wail leaves his wonderful throat, the door is bursting open, my mate slashing into the bloody water with me.
The laugh that leaves me is fractionally delirious as his soft, adoring hands find us.
The cracked wonder in his voice melting my heart as he urges me to press our baby onto my chest. I do, sobbing like a madwoman and then trying my best to stop, worried I’ll jostle the little life in my arms. He’s perfect, his obsidian skin decorated with sleek, soft streaks of white bone.
“T-They’re soft, Sor’en,” I gasp as I gently touch our son's face.
He clears his throat, sniffling like a giant death-touch baby. “It is normal, my mate. They will harden in the coming solars.”
I nod, my body shaking wildly still, as my mate gathers us both gently into his arms. Our son’s cries filling the room. My heart fuller than it has ever been or ever will be again.