Another contraction hits, cutting off my words.
This one is even stronger, a band of pain that wraps around my lower back and abdomen, squeezing until tearsspring to my eyes. I double over, one hand braced against the counter.
“Oh fuck,” says Lorenzo, running around the island to get to me.
“Oh god,” I gasp. “I thought we had time!”
Ryker is on the phone in three seconds, his face a mask of controlled fury. “I don’t care if there’s a hurricane,” he snarls. “Get that helicopter in the air. Now.”
I can’t hear the response, but Ryker’s expression darkens further. “Then find someone who can,” he hisses. “This is my wife. My baby. I will pay whatever it costs…” He stops, listening. He hangs up without waiting for a response and immediately dials another number. “Helena,” he says when she answers. “It’s Ryker Blackwood. Anya’s in labor.”
Another contraction hits before he can say more.
I slide down to the kitchen floor, my back against the cabinets, and cry out. Lorenzo drops to his knees beside me, his face calm despite the fear I can see lurking in his eyes.
“How far apart are they?” he asks, his voice steady.
“I don’t know for sure,” I gasp as the pain peaks, then begins to fade. “Five minutes. Maybe less.”
Ryker is still on the phone. “The roads are flooding? How bad?” He listens, his jaw tightening. “And you’re sure there’s no other way?” Another pause. “Yes. Yes, we understand. Just... please try.”
He hangs up and dials again immediately. “Amanda,” he says, his voice gentler now. “It’s Ryker. Anya’s in labor.”
Another contraction hits, stronger than the last. I scream, the sound tearing from my throat as the pain rolls through me. Lorenzo’s hands are on my shoulders, steadying me as I ride it out.
“Anya?” My mother’s voice comes faintly through the phone.
“She’s having a contraction,” Ryker says, his eyes never leaving my face. “They’re about four minutes apart now.”
“I’m coming,” my mother says, her voice firm despite the fear I can hear lurking beneath. “Tell her I’m coming.”
Ryker hangs up and drops to his knees beside me, taking my hand in his. His palm is damp with sweat, his pulse racing against my wrist.
The power is still out, the kitchen lit only by the few candles Lorenzo managed to light before the contractions started. Outside, the storm is raging, wind screaming around the corners of the mansion, rain hammering against the windows like it’s trying to break in.
“I’ll call the helicopter again,” Ryker says, already reaching for his phone. “Maybe if I threaten to fly it myself…”
“No.” Lorenzo’s voice cuts through the chaos. He’s still kneeling beside me, his eyes locked on mine. “She can’t make it in time. The baby’s coming now.”
“How do you know?” Alaric asks, his voice tight.
“I’ve been training for this,” Lorenzo says simply. “For months. Reading every book, watching every video, and talking to Helena twice a week. I can deliver this baby if it comes to that.”
I stare at him through my tears.
“It’s too early,” I whisper. “He’s too small.”
Lorenzo brushes a damp curl from my forehead, his touch gentle. “You’re going to have a baby right now. I need you to stay calm and breathe.”
Another contraction hits, and I cry out, my back arching. This one is different. It’s stronger, with an overwhelming pressure that makes me want to push.
“I need to push,” I gasp when I can speak again. “Something’s happening.”
“The power’s out,” Marcus says, reappearing in thekitchen doorway. “The generator’s damaged—a palm tree came down on it. What the hell is happening?!”
“She’s having the baby right now,” says Alaric, crouched next to me on the kitchen floor.
“We need to move her,” Lorenzo says, already on his feet. “Her nesting room. It’s on an interior wall, no windows. Safest place in the storm.”
