Chapter 147: Chapter 147

My fingers tremble on the papers, fingertips to elbows drenched in blood. My vision hazes over, red so thick, I can hardly see the figures or the letters. Sweat beads on my forehead as my teeth clench.

The ache is unbearable, but her screams haven’t stopped echoing through the walls.

The Voss emissary was speaking, something about missionaries from lands so far across the seas and weapons and mechanisms like nothing we’ve ever heard of before, but every time Valka screamed, the room falls silent.

I hated that I couldn’t be there. Grandmother had kicked me out and told the guards to toss me into the dungeons if I came close to the quarters. Because I couldn’t control the panic. Couldn’t stop considering cutting them out of her stomach if it meant she’d stop bleeding.

We knew it would be a difficult birth.

We just didn’t know how.

My feet wobble and I grip the edge of the table before I topple over. My vision blurs as another wave of excruciating pain hits in my sternum.

Trenton clasps my arm, joining me by the table’s edge. "I’ll handle it, Luke."

I know he can. The problem was, I need to keep my mind distracted. Already, everything I’ve touched has turned to hoarfrost. Can’t think. Can’t...

The doors swing open with a thud and at the sight of Evadne’s panicked expression, I take flight across the hall, abandoning everything. She follows closely behind me and I try not to look at the blood on her hands. Refuse to think that they’re Valka’s.

There’s so much of it.

Evadne’s speaking, running me along the details, but my blood is roaring in my ears, my pulse pounding savagely. If Grandmother had her come get me, then it means only one thing.

I burst through the chambers as another scream pierces the air. And I stop in the doorway, chest heaving.

Valka is covered in sweat, her eyes bloodshot and tired, the white cloth held between her teeth to muffle her screams dotted with blood. Her fingers are wrapped around the straps attached to the bedpost, clutched tightly as she pushes with a painful growl that vibrates along the walls. There’s so much blood on the sheets underneath her and on the wash clothes. The large basin is filled with water turned red.

My gaze lifts to my grandmother. There’s a line of wrinkle above her brow that hadn’t been there before. Her eyes lock with mine and my fingers tremble slightly.

I take one deep breath and cross the room. The maids shrink back. I don’t see the worry on their faces as I lean down over Valka and tuck her hair behind her ear. "Hey."

Tears well up in her eyes. They’re apologetic, like she’s telling me she’s sorry. Fuck that.

I tug the gag from her mouth and press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Don’t cry," I whisper.

Her chest heaves and falls faster in small sobs. "I c-can’t--"

"It’s okay," I say, cupping her cheeks gently. "We’re alright." It’s a promise. I repeat it over and over until she nods. Until I feel the trust flicker down the bond. I tell her she’s strong. I tell her she’s beautiful. I tell her we’ll have chocolate tarts for dinner later. Loads of it. She nods, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Then, I slit my wrist and push it against her lips.

"What are you doing--"

I level a frosty stare at my grandmother. She shuts up.

Valka takes a deep drink. Three mouths full and her pupils dilate even more, dangerously so, like pin pricks. Her eyes roll back in her head and her head drops back against the pillow, all evidence of pain soothed away from her beautiful face.

And then, I walk to the centre of the room, where her legs are bound apart. Grandmother shrinks to the side.

My hands tremble slightly. And for the third time in my entire life, I say a prayer to my ancestors, even as I make a vow never to put her through this sort of pain ever again.

The tremors spread along my arms. I have no fucking idea what I am about to do. If I do it wrong, she dies. If I don’t, she’ll bleed to death, still. And they’ll die inside her.

So, I reach for Valka’s round belly. And I cut her open. In more gory terms, I cut the children out of her. My eyes never leave her face and the less-than surgical cut.

But relief begins to tug at my chest as she releases a sigh, lashes fluttering close as the cut begins to stitch itself together at a remarkable rate. We’re alright.

It is horrifying, much more horrifying than ripping a man’s heart out or pulling out intestines to wrap around a traitor’s throat, that moment when you stick your hands into the body of the woman you love to bring out a child.

I don’t recommend it, except in dire situations. I’ll leave the rest of the details to your imagination.

The first child is pale white. His skin is tinged with traces of silver swirling across his skin like drawings. All of the silver Rafael had injected into Valka, it was as though, the babe had absorbed it.

The babe is eerily quiet. His silver hair slippery with blood. He stares at me with mismatched eyes. His right eye is a pale violet. The left is a star-flecked silver-grey. And I know then, for sure, that this is the result of the poison.

His fingers wrap around mine and I chuckle, thinking him a striking beauty.

"Asterin," I say, because there is a star in his left eye, and he cocks his head as if in acknowledgement.

The second is a contradiction of the first. He is untouched by the silver. His eyes and hair are Valka’s, and he shrieks so loud, I think my ears have begun to bleed. He glares at me like I have hurt him and I hold him up, glaring back in those amber eyes. I can already tell we will not get along very much.

"Drustan," I say in a scold and he wails harder.

The third looks just like the second, reminding me that they are triplets, after all. There’s a single tuft of silver hair at the top of his head and he looks... he looks happy to be here. I am nearly tempted to ask if grandmother can examine if the babe is inebriated.

He keeps giggling, wiggling his fingers at me cheerily. My eyes narrow. He looks high. "Tristan."

Valka suddenly moans and I hand the babe over to Evadne, where she effectively wraps him in a swad of white clothing, while her private guard curiously tries to peer into the shawl.

Evadne narrows her blue gaze at him. "Get back, moron. You’ll scare him with your ugly face."

Sebastian, now at the lowest ranks amongst the castle’s guard, surprisingly inches a step back, not without murmuring something I don’t quite catch. When Evadne initially arrived with him, I’d been ready to turn him into clumps of ice. His missing middle finger bears the sign of that particular altercation. But I’d let her convince me he was a harmless dog. Her words, not mine. And she had him under control. Check latest chapters at NoveI(F)ire.net

I didn’t understand their relationship, and it was frankly none of my concern, so long as he stayed away from Valka and I.

That, I didn’t have to worry about. Because he followed Evadne everywhere. She acted like he irritated her--it was clear that he did--but I’m pretty sure they’re fucking. Not sure how that happened. Or what they are. Because that’s not stopped Eva from inviting women to her chambers.

I blink. Grandmother looks from me to Valka as she extracts a rather tiny form from between Valka’s legs. "You both never listen, do you?"

I note, as if from a distance, that the last is premature, smaller than the other three. Tiny, really. Grandmother places her in my hands and she is the size of a parchment paper. Or perhaps, I just have large hands.

Her rose-gold hair is in little unruly curls. She looks exhausted, her chest rising and falling slowly. Her lashes flutter in her sleep and I see the hints of light violet in them. Her small mouth twitches in a pucker akin to a suck.

I can’t look away from her. I want to bundle her up and hide her somewhere somewhere safe.

"Jessamine," Valka says softly, and my head jerks back to my mate in disbelief. "Jessa."

She’s pale and looks half-asleep, but she’s smiling. My eyes sting and my jaw clenches. The name is a gift Ilya and I don’t deserve, not after everything we’ve both put her through. But she lays there, smiling at me like it is the best decision she’s ever made, and something in my chest cracks open at that. And my lips give a small quiver before cracking into a small smile.

I peer in the face of the girl. "Jessamine."