“Baby…” I whispered softly, brushing her hair back, letting my fingertips trail down her cheek. “Hey. Breathe for me. I’m right here.”
Another small tremor ran through her.
I leaned closer, my voice breaking into something soft and aching.
“Baby, please. Let me see your eyes.”
Her breath trembled, but she didn’t open them.
Another kiss to her cheek.
“It’s just me,” I coaxed gently. “Just your Daddy. Just the man who’s going to take care of you right now. Please… I need to see you.”
Slowly, so slowly, her lashes lifted.
Her eyes were glassy. Fragile in a way that made my chest ache.
“Oh sweetheart…” I breathed, brushing her tears away. “There you are.”
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper.
“I-I’m… it was… so much…”
“I know,” I whispered. “I know, baby. And you did so fucking good.” I soothed, kissing her softly. “Shh…Come here.”
Keeping myself inside her, I slowly rolled us onto our sides. She gasped, trembling, but I held her close, guiding her leg around my hip, settling her on top of my chest as gently as I could.
“I’ve got you,” I murmured into her hair as I eased her down. “I’m not pulling out. Not leaving you empty.”
Her breath released in a soft, broken exhale against my throat.
With one arm around her waist, I pulled the blankets over us with my free hand, tucking the warmth around her.
“There we go… warm now,” I whispered.
She nuzzled into my chest.
I stroked her back lightly with my fingertips, slow, soft lines from her shoulder blades down to the small of her back. Her breathing began to steady under the rhythm of my touch.
“So proud of you, baby. My beautiful girl. You’re safe,” I whispered again, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’m right here. I’m holding you. I’m staying inside you until your body rests.”
Her breath slowed. Her fingers loosened against my chest. I kept stroking her. And after awhile, the sweetest thing, shesighed and her whole body sinking into mine as sleep overtook her.
“That’s it, angel…” I whispered, stroking slow circles on her back. “Sleep. Daddy’s here.”
Her breathing fell into a peaceful rhythm, and steady against my throat. And I lay there, still inside her, watching over her like she was the most precious thing I’d ever been trusted with.
31
Madeline
I woke up to Crow.
Not the polite, smoothed-out English he used around other dynasties. The low, fast, knife-edged dialect that came out when he was either exhausted, furious, or both.
“—ven asha, not negotiable,” he snapped, the consonants hard in his mouth. “You try to move on our docks again and I’ll take your ships apart bolt by bolt, do you understand me?”
My stomach dropped. I kept my eyes almost closed, pretending for one more second that I was still asleep. It felt wrong to listen.
