Despite the contraction still ripping through me, something about the exchange between Ella and Everett has my attention glued to them.
"GQ?" Everett repeats, then rolls his eyes, looking at Ella as if she's an exhausting child. "Your friend is giving birth to an entity that belongs to both worlds."
I want to argue with the elf referring to my soon-to-be born child as an entity, but the contraction is still currently stealing my breath.
"She needs a midwife who can assist in case there are…complications."
My sharp intake of breath at the word "complications" is all Nick needs to go full concern on me.
"Hey," he says, pulling my chin up. "It's okay. Everything is going to be just fine. But Everett has a point."
"Okay," I breathe. "Just…let's go somewhere because this…hurts like hell."
"Fine," Ella says, something like steel and exasperation in her voice all at once. "But I'm going with you. Wherever in the hell you weirdos are from."
Nick sighs as he lifts me into his arms, cradling me against his chest, I catch one last look at the bakery. Shattered glass, overturned tables, the whole place looking like it lost a fight with a tornado.
My safe space, ripped to pieces.
But in Nick's arms, with Ella rushing ahead and Everett clearing a path, I realize something.
Turns out, my safe space isn't the bakery anymore.
It's him.
And our daughter is about to meet the most stubbornly protective father the world has ever seen.
Another contraction steals my breath, and I bury my face in Nick's shirt, holding on for dear life.
"Hold on, darlin'," he says softly. "Just hold on. I've got you."
I believe him.
Through the pain, through the fear, through everything.
I believe in him.
Chapter Eleven
Nick
The world tilts and blurs as I pull Samantha in, her whole body shaking with another contraction. There's magic in the air, enough to make my skin prickle, but all I can really hear is the small, hurt sound she makes against my neck. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, like I'm the only thing keeping her from flying apart.
I would tear myself apart if it meant taking this pain from her.
"I've got you," I say against her hair, the words rough. "Just hold on, darlin'. We're almost there."
Her breathing is quick and shallow, her whole body tight. Another contraction hits, and she buries her face in my shirt, trying to remember the breathing exercises we practiced. Turns out, practice and the real thing aren't even close. Watching her in pain makes something raw and desperate twist in my chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Everett wrestling with Ella, who's doing her best to break free of his grip.
"Let go of me, you sparkly weirdo!" she shouts, twisting in his arms.
"Listen, you annoying little brat," Everett snaps back, his voice strained. "If I don't hold onto you, you'll disintegrate.The only thing keeping your mortal body from exploding into a million pieces is my hold on you."
I glance over in time to see Ella's face shift. The stubborn fire in her eyes flickers, replaced by something raw and terrified. Her struggles stop. Then, in a movement that clearly shocks them both, she grabs onto Everett's shirt and presses herself against him, her knuckles white.
Everett's expression freezes, somewhere between bewildered and something that looks almost like concern. His arms tighten around her, protective now instead of restraining.
