Chapter 193

Ronan

The night had been endless. Her screams, blood, the rasp of her breath as it threatened to stop for good.

I’d braced myself for the worst, forced my body into steadiness while my insides churned with panic. But when the last contraction tore through her and the midwife leaned close, something in the air changed.

A sound split the silence. Thin, wailing, and desperate.

The baby’s first cry.

It was small, but gods, it was powerful. My knees nearly buckled beneath me. The weight of hours, days, months of fear crashed down all at once, and for the first time in longer than I could remember, relief stole the air from my chest.

I staggered back a step, pressing a hand to the wall to steady myself. My vision blurred, not from exhaustion but from the sting behind my eyes.

The cries filled the cabin, raw and alive, proof that all the agony, all the terror, hadn’t been in vain.

“She’s here,” the midwife murmured, lifting the tiny, squirming form into her arms.

Lila’s head rolled against the bed, her face pale with exhaustion, but her eyes opened the moment she heard it. That sound, that fragile, miraculous sound, drew her back from the brink more than antidote.

The midwife wrapped the child quickly and placed her into Lila’s trembling arms.

And then I saw her.

So small. Red-faced and wailing, fists curled tight, body squirming against her mother. Fragile, impossibly fragile. And perfect.

Lila sobbed, clutching the baby close, pressing trembling kisses to her damp crown. Tears streaked her cheeks, her body shaking with both adrenaline and joy.

I had seen her fight, bleed, endure every cruelty this world could throw at her, but never had I seen her like this. Soft. Open. Relieved.

My throat locked, a sound caught between a laugh and a sob tearing out before I could swallow it down.

I had been ready to kill gods themselves if they tried to take her. Ready to bleed out on this floor if it meant she lived another day. And now, here was the proof that she had survived. That they both had.

The fire crackled low, shadows flickering over the walls, but the whole room seemed lit from within. From Lila and the child in her arms.

The other midwives moved quietly, murmuring things I barely heard since my attention was fixed completely on Lila, on the two lives I had nearly lost and would never take for granted.

I knelt beside the bed, my hand hovering before I dared to touch the baby. My fingers trembled as I brushed her cheek. The cries quieted for a moment, as though she knew me, like even in her first hour she could feel the loyalty that tethered me to her survival.

Lila looked at me then, eyes shining through her exhaustion. Everything was there in her gaze: gratitude, relief, the unspoken acknowledgment that we had survived this together.

I lowered my head, swallowing hard against the swell in my chest. I had faced death a thousand times without flinching, but the sight of new life, fragile and fierce in the same breath skewered me.

For a few moments, nothing else existed. I closed my hand around Lila’s, steadying her hold on the baby. She leaned into me, and together we looked down at the miracle she held.

Lila’s face twisted, a cry tearing from her throat. I froze, alarm flooding me, but the midwife pressed a steady hand to her shoulder.

“There’s another,” she said quickly. “The second baby is coming.”

A sharp cry split the air again, thinner and higher than the first. My head jerked up, confusion cutting through the haze of awe.

One of the midwives bent quickly over Lila, then she lifted another small bundle, slick and squirming, his cry large for such a small thing.

“A boy,” the midwife announced, her voice trembling with wonder. Twins were rare.

Lila gasped, eyes wide, clutching her daughter tighter even as her other arm reached out, shaking, desperate to hold her son too. Tears streamed down her face, her expression a mixture of shock and joy.

I could only stare as the second child was placed into her arms, pressed against her chest beside his sister.

My throat closed again, my heart stuttering at the sight. Twins. A girl and a boy. The Gods had not only spared them, they had given double.

The cries softened, turning into hiccupping whimpers as the babies nestled closer to Lila’s chest. The air was thick with the scent of blood, smoke from the fire, and two new precious scents.

My hand remained on Lila’s shoulder, grounding myself in her warmth, in the rise and fall of her chest. She was here. The child, no the children were here. Against every odd, every shadow looming over us, in this we had won.

The midwives moved around us in brisk silence, cleaning linens, murmuring instructions, pressing cloths to stem the bleeding. Their presence blurred at the edges of my focus. My world had shrunk to the three in front of me.

Until suddenly it didn’t.

One of the midwives stepped closer, her arms laden with clean cloths. She crouched beside me to offer fresh wrappings for the babies, her hands brushing mine as she passed them.

The moment her skin touched mine, I felt it. A jolt of power, deep and primal, shot through me like lightning, tearing straight down to my soul.

My wolf surged with a growl, straining against my control, recognition blazing through every part of me.

I turned toward the midwife, heart pounding, and my entire world tilted.

Her face, one I hadn’t looked at until now, mirrored the shock that must be on mine. She froze too, her eyes widening, pupils blown wide with the same shock.

Mate.

The word thundered in my head. Absolute.

I staggered back a fraction, breath catching in my throat. Joy flared, wild and unexpected, filling spaces in me I hadn’t even known were hollow.

For a heartbeat, all I wanted was to reach for her, to close the distance, to let the bond burn fully between us… but guilt came just as quickly.

I looked back at Lila, pale, trembling, holding her newborns against her chest with tears in her eyes. My promise to protect her was carved deeper than fate itself. She had trusted me, leaned on me, asked me to stand when no one else could.

And now fate had thrown this twist at my feet.

The midwife’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, her hands trembling faintly as she placed the linens down. Neither of us said a word.

But the bond thrummed between us, hot and alive, impossible to ignore.

My wolf howled with recognition, eager. But I shoved him down, gritting my teeth until my jaw ached.

This wasn’t the time. Not when Lila was still bleeding and the babies’ first breaths were only minutes old.

I forced myself to look away, to pour my focus back into the fragile miracle before me. But my pulse raced, my chest ached, my thoughts spun out of control.

Two miracles in the same night.

One I had prayed for, fought for. The other I hadn’t dared to hope for at all.

I took Lila’s hand again, grounding myself in the promise I’d already made. Still, I could feel the midwife’s gaze lingering, cautious, uncertain, just as shaken as I was.

Joy. Guilt. Awe…The emotions clashed, leaving me breathless.

My future had shifted in an instant, and I wasn’t ready for it at all.

I bowed my head, pressing my forehead against the back of Lila’s hand as she cradled her miracles.

“You’re safe,” I murmured to her, but the words felt hollow when my own world had just been upended.

The boy whimpered softly, and she hushed him with a shaky hum. I clung to the sound, forcing myself to hold steady. But even as I did, the mating bond thrummed beneath my skin.

And I didn’t’ even know her name.