Page 184 of Alchemised

As weeks turned into months, the full breadth of his possessiveness began to reassert itself.

During the day, he would watch Helena work with an intensity that she could feel in her marrow.

When they were alone, she would stop what she was doing and let him consume her.

His lips whispering perfect, beautiful, mine with every nip and caress.

“Yours, always,” she’d promise.

It grew steadily apparent that Helena sat at the centre of Kaine’s universe, and now that she was safe, his unrestrained attention had nothing else to obsess over.

Everything except Helena was superfluous.

She thought at first that it was a phase, but as autumn arrived, and Ascendance came and went, she began to suspect that he had no intention of taking interest in anything else.

Lila, Pol, alchemy projects: It was all to indulge her.

Even the baby. Helena’s pregnancy became increasingly an undeniable piece in their relationship, but his concern remained limited to Helena. The condition of her heart. The risk of the Toll manifesting again.

When he wasn’t reminding her that “their daughter” needed Helena to breathe, and that she had to keep herself safe for “their daughter,” his interest faded.

One night, when they were lying in bed and she was trying to show him how to feel the constant kicking that she was subjected to, she realised his attention had wandered to her wrists, the punctures from the manacles that still ran through each of them.

She knew he worried that her ulnar nerve snapping was only the beginning, and that there might be more damage. He was constantly watching how she worked and rarely allowed her to carry or lift anything that might strain her wrists.

“Kaine,” she said quietly.

His attention snapped back.

“Kaine, you have to care about her.”

He stared at her blankly.

Her mouth went dry. “You can’t be like your father.”

His expression closed, but she sat up and gripped his hand.

“You have to care. You have to choose to care. The way you are, if you don’t, you won’t—and she’ll know. Just like you did. You cannot do that to her. She has to be someone that you decide to care about.”

She swallowed hard, looking down. “We don’t know how long I’ll … after everything. I need you to promise that if I’m not here, you’ll love her for me”—her voice cracked—“the way I would love her. She has to be that important to you. Do you promise?”

Kaine had grown pale, but he nodded. “All right.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

H ELENA WAS PUT ON BEDREST during the last month of pregnancy when her heart began to struggle with even simple things like the stairs.

She nearly fainted, and before the dizziness had passed, Kaine had her in bed and would not let her leave it.

Riding Amaris, he had gone to the larger islands and found several medical texts on pregnancy, which he had read from cover to cover, designating himself as obstetrician. He would not hear of Helena doing anything, and when she tried to protest, he cited passages from the books.

Several women in the village came to the house and helped Lila manage cooking and cleaning.

With nothing else to do, Helena began writing, filling a journal with everything she could think of.

She wanted it all written down: her version of events.

Who she was, and what she’d chosen, and why.

Answers to all the questions she’d ever wished she’d asked her own mother.

The winter solstice passed, and so did Helena’s due date, and she thought she would always be pregnant and never leave her bed when her labour finally started.

It moved at a relentless creep for more than a day with little progress as Kaine grew more and more worried.

Lila was somehow the most levelheaded among them.

“We’re all vivimancers. No reason to think we can’t get one baby out,” Lila said, kneeling by Helena’s legs while Helena leaned against Kaine, his hand pressed over her heart, making sure the rhythm stayed even when the contractions crested and ebbed.

“I hate this,” Helena finally said, beginning to feel like it was never going to end, her forehead slick, curls clinging to her face.

“I know.” Kaine smoothed her hair.

“It hurts.”

“Yes.”

“I’m tired. I’ve been pushing for hours.”

“I know.”

“Stop agreeing with me.”

Kaine stopped talking after that and didn’t utter a word of protest when she nearly broke his hand squeezing it through a contraction, her whole body curling forcefully.

“Almost there,” Lila said. “Head’s out. Just one more and you’ll get the shoulders through.” She looked at Kaine. “Do you want to catch her?”

He shook his head.

Helena could feel her heart rate trying to rocket. So close, so close. Just one more and it would be over.

“That’s it! Yes! Shoulders are out, just breathe, she’ll come …”

There was a garbled wail as Lila lifted a wet, squirming bundle and thrust her into Helena’s arms. Helena gave a startled gasp as her daughter’s tiny, scrunched-up face nuzzled against her. The baby’s head was matted with dark wet curls.

All her exhaustion was forgotten. Helena’s hands shook as she cradled the baby close. The tiny head lifted, looking towards Helena, and a little mouth opened to utter an angry, protesting cry.

Lila was saying something, but Helena could only stare as the baby furrowed her featherlight eyebrows, eyes widening briefly.

They were as bright silver as a lightning storm.

Helena gave a sob and held her tighter. “Kaine—she has your eyes.”