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I bear down, squeezing Vael's hands so hard I'm certain I must be hurting him, but he doesn't flinch. My entire world narrows to this single task—bringing our child into the world.
"I can see the head," Mireva announces. "One more push."
With a primal scream that seems to come from some deep, untapped well within me, I push. There's a moment of searing pressure, then blessed relief as our first baby slides into the world.
The tiny, indignant cry that follows is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
"A girl," Mireva says, quickly wrapping the squirming infant in a soft cloth. "A beautiful daughter."
Jackie moves to take the baby, and Mireva hands our daughter over. "Trinity, get ready for the next."
Before I can even fear having to go through it again, my body seizes with another contraction.
The second birth happens faster than the first. Within minutes, another cry joins the first, and Mireva holds up our second daughter, slightly smaller than her sister but just as perfect.
"Two daughters," the healer announces, her usually inscrutable face breaking into a rare smile. "Both healthy and strong."
Jackie helps clean and swaddle the babies while Mireva tends to me. I lean back against Vael's chest, exhausted beyond words but filled with a strange, new emotion I can't quite name.
"Look what you did," Vael whispers, his voice thick with emotion as Jackie brings our daughters to us. "Look what you made, Trinity."
I gaze down at the two tiny faces, one with soft, dark brown hair and gold-flecked eyes, the other with wavy black hair and eyes that shift between red and amber in the light.
"We made them," I correct him softly, a tear sliding down my cheek. "Both of us."
Vael's arms tighten around me, and I feel something wet against my hair. When I tilt my head back, I see tears tracking down his ash-gray cheeks. This fearsome demon, this dangerous bounty hunter, is crying as he looks at our daughters.
Something shifts inside me then—a wall crumbling, a door opening—and I realize with startling clarity that our arrangement has become something else entirely when I wasn't paying attention.
"Would you like to hold them?" Jackie asks, already moving to place one of the bundles in my arms.
I nod, suddenly desperate to feel their weight, to know they're real. The first baby—our firstborn—settles against my chest, her tiny fingers flexing against the blanket. Vael carefully accepts our second daughter, his massive hands dwarfing her small form with such gentleness it makes my heart ache.
"Hello," I whisper to the babies, my voice breaking. "I'm your mother."
I stare down at these tiny creatures we've created, and something profound happens inside me. A surge of emotion so powerful it steals my breath—the same sensation I felt when I first saw them, but stronger now as I cradle our firstborn against my chest.
"She's looking right at me," I whisper, captivated by the golden eyes gazing up with an intensity that seems impossible for a newborn.
This wasn't supposed to happen. I never wanted this. I was meant to fulfill our bargain—bear Vael's children, then walk away to start my life. Freedom was the goal, not... this overwhelming feeling constricting my chest. Not this fierce, consuming love.
"They're both perfect," Vael murmurs. He hasn't moved away since the birth, still pressed against my back like he can't bear to increase the distance between us. His chin rests lightly on my shoulder as he gazes down at our daughters.
The tiny bundle in his arms makes a soft sound, and he immediately adjusts his hold, those deadly bounty hunter hands impossibly gentle. "Shhh, little one. Your father's here."
Your father. The words hang in the air between us.
Jackie finishes cleaning up and approaches the bed with a warm smile. "They'll need names." She tucks a strand of platinum hair behind her ear. "Strong ones, for strong girls."
I glance up at Vael, suddenly unsure. We'd never discussed names—another sign of how much I'd been lying to myself about my involvement in their lives.
"Liora," I say, surprising myself. The name falls from my lips unbidden, as if it had been waiting there all along. I touch the soft brown hair of the baby in my arms. "This one is Liora."
Vael's eyes meet mine, something unfathomable in their red-gold depths. "Liora," he repeats, testing the sound. His lips curl into a smile. "It suits her." He looks down at our second daughter, whose eyes now blink open to reveal their red-amber color. "And this fierce one?"
"Kaelin." The name comes as naturally as breathing. "She looks like a fighter."
"Like her mother." His voice is gruff with emotion.