Anguish threatened to choke him. He forced the raw emotions down and grabbed Selma’s hand under the guise of offering her strength, when really he was the one who needed her. By the fucking stars, he needed her so bad.
Needed her to not hate the child he had inadvertently forced on her.
Selma wasn’t his mother, and he wasn’t his father—she’d made that plenty clear. She loved him. She wanted their son as much as he did.
But in this moment, with the history of this house pressing in from all sides and the memory of his mother’s blood seeping into the rug below her still body pounding in his temples… and Selma’s groans of pain that he was responsible for ringing in his ears, it was so impossibly hard to hold onto his mate’s promises that she wanted this. Wanted his love.
He clung to her hand as the doctor told her she was almost fully dilated. Clung to it through her next few contractions as he hated himself for doing this to the woman he loved. For not being strong enough to set her free.
He barely heard Asan tell her that it was time to push.
“Kain? Kain, I need you.”
That he heard, clear as a bell ringing through the anguish of his mind.
He snapped his eyes to hers and lost his breath at the fear and trust mixed in her dark gaze.
“Please,” she said again. “Please, I need you. It hurts.”
“I’m right here, my love. We’ll get you through this.” That was all that mattered. If she’d been wrong, if she hated him after this, hated their child… Right now, that didn’t matter. She looked up at him for comfort; for strength. For her, he found it.
“You’re so strong,” he told her. “And I’ll be right here, every step of the way, as you bring our son into the world.” He shifted behind her, helping her up into a squatting position that allowed him to hold her full weight.
Another contraction struck her, and she cried out, her whole body tensing in his grasp.
“Now, Selma. Push!” the doctor called.
“You can do this, my warrior queen,” Kain whispered into her ear, bracing her as she dug her fingers into him, anchoring herself.
And then she pushed.
He’d known her strength from their very first days together, and still, nothing could have prepared him for the raw power of his woman birthing their child.
Her body took over, the guidance of the doctor and Kain’s encouragements drowned out by the sheer primal force of her. She roared. She pushed. She dug deep and found a well within her, so powerful and entirely female that it took his breath away. And with it, she brought his son into the world.
On a flood of blood and fluids, a squinting little being left her body and entered the doctor’s arms.
Selma sagged back against Kain, eyes closed and face covered in sweat.
“You did it,” he whispered, half in disbelief as he stared down at the tiny demon—at his son. “You’re… amazing. You did it.”
“A healthy boy!” Asan said with a grin, examining the baby. “Well done, Selma. He is magnificent.”
A piercing wail interrupted the hallowed moment as their child realized he was no longer in the warm, comfortable confines of his mother’s womb.
Selma’s eyes flew open, and she struggled upright to reach for her newborn. “Give him to me.”
The doctor swiftly pulled him away. “Just a second. Let his father place the illusion spell first, my dear.”
“No. I want to see him.” Despite her clear exhaustion, the command in her voice was unmistakable, brooking no argument.
Asan glanced at Kain, silently asking for his intervention. “My queen, your child is lovely and well, but often breeders can find it difficult to bond with their sons if the first impression is of his demon form.”
“Give. Me. My. Child.” This time, she sounded more like a feral wolf than a woman in the aftermath of childbirth. “Now.”
Kain nodded at the doctor. This had to happen.
Hesitantly, Asan placed their son in Selma’s arms—and the feral snarl instantly drained from her face.
