Page 133 of Dual

This can’t be happening.In my head, I feel Mads stirring, her presence warm and protective.It’s too dangerous here. Too dirty. What if something goes wrong?

We’ll be okay,I tell her, though my own fear threatens to overwhelm me.We have to be.

Ian crashes back into the room, arms full of what looks like torn bedsheets and a first aid kit. “Is this good? I also found some bottled water and—oh God, is that normal?” He’s staring at my face, which must be contorted with pain.

“Ian, focus,” Chloe commands. “We need to?—”

Another contraction tears through me, and I scream—a primal sound that echoes off the concrete walls. The pain is beyond anything I’ve ever felt, worse than any bullet wound or knife cut. It consumes everything, leaving no room for thought or fear or planning.

When it passes, I’m panting. “Something’s wrong,” I gasp. “It shouldn’t hurt this much?—”

“Pain is normal,” Chloe says firmly, though I catch a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Your body knows what to do. Trust it.”

In my mind, I feel the familiar shift as Mads pushes forward to almost stand with me, her strength bleeding into mine.I’ve got you,she whispers.We’ve survived worse than this.

And suddenly I understand. This isn’t just me giving birth. It’s all of us. Every part of me that’s fought and bled and clawed its way to survive to get us here. Even Red, that cold, calculating presence, hovers at the edges like a guardian.

“Here comes another one,” I warn, and this time, when the pain hits, I don’t fight it. I let it wash over me, through me, carrying me toward something I’ve never imagined possible.

“That’s it!” Chloe encourages. “I can see the head. Dark hair, just like?—”

“Don’t tell me who he looks like,” I manage between pants. “Just help him get here safe.”

Ian has gone green around the edges. “Should I—do you need me to—I could boil water? Isn’t that what people do?”

“We’re not in a Western movie,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes despite her focus. “Just hand me whatever I need and try not to pass out.”

The next contraction builds like a tsunami, and I know this is it. “He’s coming,” I announce, my voice steady despitethe chaos around us. In my head, Mads is laughing—actually laughing—with pure joy.

Look at us,she marvels.After everything we’ve done, everything we’ve been through... we’re bringing life into the world.

And I feel it too—that sense of completion, of purpose. All the violence, all the blood on our hands... it led us here, to Domhnall, to this moment. To our son.

“Push!” Chloe commands, and I bear down with everything I have.

The pain is extraordinary, but so is the sensation of my son moving through me, fighting his way into the world with the same determination that’s kept me alive all these years.

“Head’s out!” Chloe’s voice is triumphant. “One more push for the shoulders?—”

I push again, and suddenly there’s a release, a rush, and then?—

Crying. The most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“It’s a boy,” Chloe announces, tears streaming down her face as she holds my son. “He’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

Ian looks like he might faint. “He’s so small,” he says wonderingly. “And loud. Really, really loud.”

“All babies are loud,” Chloe says, laughing through her tears. “It means his lungs are working.”

Chloe cleans my son the best she can with what she has available, then wraps him in the cleanest sheet and places him on my chest. The weight of him is incredible—substantial and real and mine.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I whisper, and he stops crying, his dark blue eyes—Domhnall’s eyes—focusing on my face with startling intensity. “We did it. We made it.”

In my head, something profound shifts. As I look down at this perfect, innocent life we’ve created, Red simply... fades. That cold, inhuman part of me that could kill without feeling dissolves like smoke, unable to exist in the presence of something so pure and new.

But Mads doesn’t fade. Instead, she grows stronger, her love and protectiveness intertwining with mine until we’re not two separate pieces anymore—we’re one mother, fierce and whole, holding our child.

Dammit, he’s amazing. And he’s ours,Mads whispers, and the words resonate through every fiber of my being.Our miracle.