Page 33 of Ruined by His Alpha King (Reluctant Fae Princes #3)

Seidrik

The font had been the birthing place for a dozen generations of Liaberian royalty. And it would be no different that evening. No matter where the sun shone on her people, the birthing omega belonged to the moon.

As he lay on the platform in the chamber normally reserved for bottling vitalis, propped up with all manner of pillows, he breathed through contractions and enjoyed his brother’s company.

Jori flitted about sanitizing things, cleaning and repeatedly violating Seidrik, trying to see if his canal had opened sufficiently.

They’d been waiting for water to break for some time, but things just hadn’t gone that route until Jori went in to check and received an ample wash of fluids as his reward.

“I’d say that’s what we were waiting for. ”

“Finally. I didn’t take this long.” Virion sat by, studying the font and the lettering on the walls.

“Why don’t you just bless the font while you’re here instead of showing off. We get it, you’re the best at everything,” Seidrik said, his voice rough in his throat.

“Never thought I’d be able to bless the fonts, you know?” Virion laughed. “But I’m not the best at everything. You’re the best at hiding things.”

“Apparently not! Saria knew. Pallosar knew… Stamel.” Seidrik breathed his way through a contraction.

“Once again, I’m left out of the party.” Virion sighed and quietly spoke the spell, holding his hand over the water. From what Seidrik recalled, he didn’t need to speak it, but doing so added a focal element to his work .

As he finished his blessing and the font glowed, Stamel made his way down the stairs, his face pale and posture shaken. Seidrik had never seen that side of him. He was usually so cocky and dominant that the expression and stooped stance made Seidrik sad.

“Is everything going well so far?” Stamel stared at Seidrik, but the question was meant for Jori. He sent fire to flow over his fingers to sanitize them with a word of a spell.

“Wonderful so far. I really wish he’d get into a more conducive position, but he says he’s fine on his back like that.” Jori made a derisive snort.

“I keep telling you that my legs are too weak to stand on. Every time I get a contraction, they buckle.” Seidrik sighed heavily and groaned as Virion stuffed another pillow behind his head, propping his forebody up.

“Shouldn’t be the case,” Jori said, resuming his examinations. He squeezed along Seidrik’s legs and up to his hips.

“Sending pins and needles up my back.” Seidrik squirmed uncomfortably and cringed when his belly knotted up.

“Unusual, but not unheard of.” Jori pressed his hands along Seidrik’s belly and frowned. “And what did the other healer say?”

“Haven’t seen her in a few months. The healer here has no idea how pregnant omegas work. The best we had available was an omega night nurse who said I was carrying a large child and should keep on my feet to speed things along.” Seidrik panted through the pressure as his belly twisted.

“Should have asked Croatens to send an omega healer a while ago.” Jori snorted and moved Seidrik, helping him to position on his side a little. “Does this bring sensation back? ”

Seidrik breathed through a contraction and waited a moment, taking a deep breath as the pins and needles intensified then ebbed, feeling returning.

“Yes. Brilliantly so.” Seidrik sighed in relief. “Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. It gives me an idea of what to expect.” Jori gave Stamel a lingering glare before washing his hands and digging through his belongings.

Unlike Nilla, he didn’t keep any tools on standby, but had magic.

He flipped through what appeared to be a spellbook, the pages worn and the lettering done by hand.

“If you’re going to birth on your back and not walk around, this is a safe option.” Jori returned and pressed his hands around Seidrik’s belly, whispering a spell.

Seidrik had taken much coursework on thalmistry in his youth and understood portions of the spell, elasticity, blood flow, wind, and elements woven into it that made his head feel light and belly spasm harder. “Fuck!”

“There we go. Few more contractions and I think we can push.” Jori pulled another notebook out and wrote some hasty words in it, brow furrowed. “Just making notes for my memory. Every birth is different and has something to teach me.”

“As long as my child and I survive.” Seidrik huffed and breathed through a lull that slowly worked into another contraction.

As his head swam from the spellwork and intensity of sensation, he lost track of everything going on.

Stamel muttered something while holding his hand.

A cool rag daubed his forehead as Virion snapped something catty.

To whom he directed it, Seidrik wasn’t certain.

His only focus was the growing pressure plying his hips apart .

“Push!” Jori’s voice bit through the haze and Seidrik tried to, but found he already was. His body knew what to do. Stamel had his hand, letting him grip as tight as he wanted.

“Breathe, love. Breathe.” Stamel leaned down to kiss Seidrik’s temple.

“I am breathing!” Seidrik gasped and cried out, sensation racking through his body.

Jori busied himself between Seidrik’s legs as his voice echoed around the room.

He pushed again, then again, closing his eyes to block out all the fluttering until his hole stretched, body strained, and in an ultimate apex, he screamed.

Jori fumbled between his legs and rose, a pale sun fae child struggling in his arms. His hair was sodden dark and inundated with blood, but a swipe of a towel had that red hair exposed in a delightful wisp.

Seidrik reached for the child and whimpered as they lay it on his chest for a singular moment. Before he could sit up, the child was taken away, its small mouth open and whimpering in little sobs.

Stamel took the child for a moment, his voice cracking as he said something, and Virion pulled away, presumably taking the child with him. Seidrik reached for them through the haze and cried out as his belly continued to squeeze.

Jori ordered him to push, to continue on the journey.

“My baby…” Seidrik obeyed, though, despite being so confused. His body distracted him as he pushed again. But what moved within him felt larger than afterbirth.

“Keep pushing!” Jori grabbed his knee and wrenched it to the side, and Seidrik struggled, crying out after every breath.

“My baby. What—what’s wrong? Please, tell me.

” The urge to push had Seidrik screaming again, and his body convulsed.

Stamel pinned his shoulders, voice urgent and whispering and maybe Seidrik thought he’d not birthed the child yet, that he’d imagined it, because he stretched open and burned, the pain familiar but different.

“Breech.” Jori’s voice cut through the frantic surroundings.

The voices echoed, the trickle of the font drowned out by urgent voices until something tugged at his body, wrenching his insides until the pressure abruptly stopped, the pain ebbing to throbbing pulses.

Cries, beautiful and shallow, rose amid the silence.

And the babe that they lay across his chest contorted and whimpered, fingers clawing at the air.

And instead of the red he recalled, the child had a shock of white hair, as pearlescent and pale as any prince of the Liaberos line.

“I thought…he had red hair?” Seidrik held the child to his chest and breathed shallowly, panting as Jori pressed in his belly.

“He doesn’t,” Stamel said, his voice a nervous chuckle.

“But he does,” Virion laughed as he stepped closer, in his arms a small bundled babe, as red of hair as Stamel. Their cries synched, little soft whimpers, those of a newborn filling Seidrik’s ears with joy. “Twins.”

“Two?”

“Astra.” Seidrik smiled at the little red-haired one.

“And for him?” Stamel gestured toward the babe on his chest. “Our gift from the sun.”

“Solas.” Seidrik sat up with the aid of Jori and took the other child into his arms. They were so small. Smaller than Ahran had been or even Lyrica. “The sun and stars. Astra and Solas.”

Stamel stared at the children in awe, hands going from one head to the next to brush through their wispy hair. “So small… ”

“They didn’t feel it.” Seidrik huffed.

“And this is why you need regular checkups! Nilla did her best, and I applaud her, but if we’d caught this early, it’d have been a lot less stressful.

” Jori busied himself between Seidrik’s legs doing something that involved a needle and thread.

He barely felt it, but with each stitch, the burn and ache grew less and less.

From there, Jori cleansed him and had Stamel carry him through the catacombs and up into the main castle where the family waited. Jori and Virion followed, each with a babe in arm.

Nemiah, Saria, Pallosar, Ingred, Tyran, Askara, and Kershai glanced up from where they sat, confusion in their gazes as they glanced from one babe to the next.

Lumic returned a moment later, holding two babies, both with fresh swaddlings. With wide eyes, he glanced from Jori to Virion and to the proud parents. “By the law…”

“Let it be known. You’ve had one set of twins, and it’s a good chance you’ll have another set. Unless you’re ready for twins again, stay on the nightflower and honeythistle religiously .” Jori glanced to Seidrik for a moment. “Perhaps more than religiously, in your case.”

Seidrik sighed. “I plan to.”

Stamel gave him a lingering stare that made his cheeks burn.

Jori elbowed him and glared. “No babies for at least a year or two. Healing needs to happen.”

“Speaking of healing.” Askara approached Seidrik with a vial in hand, extending it to him. “A gift from the goddesses. You are permitted to take.”

Having birthed in the font’s chamber, vitalis was one with him already. He graciously opened and drank the salusis, letting his first taste flood his body with the moon’s gift .

Stamel knew what to do, pushing forward with him to the window as everyone passed and held the newborns. Together, they stood on the balcony and looked up at the moon.

“Auntie goddess, moon above—” Stamel started.

Let me see them.

Before Stamel could turn, Virion and Nemiah strode out with the little ones, holding them up to the moon. “Astra and Solas.”

Astra, white-haired and pale as moonlight, opened pale eyes to the sky—a soft violet color. Solas, as red as Stamel, opened pale-blue eyes and blinked up before closing them once more.

Solas and Astra. I approve. May they please my sister in their actions and pay their respects to me as they grow.

The sun and I have gifted them with the thalms, the mind, and the patience they will need to make a difference in this world.

As Solas was born first, he will be king.

And Astra will prove instrumental. And all your many children to come will all have their purpose.

Grow well, little ones. And may you teethe and bite your pater’s teat often to show him how it feels to have a child turn their mind from your demands.

Seidrik sighed heavily as Virion stifled a snort of laughter.

Laugh well, my silver one, and I may offer you the same courtesy.

Virion silenced quickly.

You’ve done well. Continue to do well.

“We only have one bassinet.” Seidrik huffed as they thanked the goddess and went to his bedchambers.

“You have two,” Saria said from the living room. “I know where our old bassinets are from when we were little. ”

She left, presumably to go get the things from storage.

Jori kicked everyone out of the room as he put one babe into the bassinet they had available and set the other one to latch on Seidrik’s chest.

“I have to ask while Stamel is away. There are things a little more permanent than nightflower and honeythistle. I understand you may not want to have many pregnancies if the likelihood of having twins is so large. Do not let Stamel make that decision for you.”

Seidrik stared down as Solas nestled in for a drink, drawing out his first milk.

“Nightflower and honeythistle will do for now. We’ll decide later. I don’t think Stamel will push for more than I can handle. He knows my limits more than I do.” Seidrik brushed the sparse hair of his child with his fingers and stared, lost in the absolute love he felt.

“Okay. Do feel free to call, and I will be staying for a week or so to make sure you heal right. I’m not sure what Nilla discussed with you, but no maritals for two moons, and tell me if he’s being persistent or pestering you and I will have Pallosar come beat some sense into him with a slipper. ” Jori gave Seidrik a warm smile.

“I appreciate you. Thank you. Is there any chance you could visit the sanctuary of omegas in Croatens and start some of them in training to be night nurses?” Seidrik stared at Jori hopefully. “Liaberos will compensate you and Croatens well for it.”

“That is a lovely idea. I know two omegas who would be perfect for it.” Jori smiled and helped Seidrik swap babies.

“I think we need a better name for them than night nurses. That seems more for aftercare and babe management.” Seidrik cradled Astra to his other pectoral, letting him feed. Since the piercings had been removed, he was remarkably sensitive .

“What about the moonguard. They protect what the moon holds dearest, armed with her sigil and blessings?” Jori stared at Seidrik and smiled when he nodded.

“Let it be so. I decree on this day we institute a standardization of care and treatment for birthing omegas. The omegas that will move forward in their training will be known as the moonguard and will guard and aid those who enter the moon’s domain and aid the transition of life and loss.

” Seidrik stared at his children and swallowed hard.

“Because not all omegas are fortunate enough to nurse and hold their children after.”

“Very astute.” Jori tidied up a bit and checked on Solas before giving him an experimental check, holding him up for an extra burping.

Seidrik glanced to his bedroom window, a sliver of the moon and sky visible through the gauzy curtains. “I owe my goddesses much and will do all that I can to be less like my father.”

And under his breath, Seidrik hummed a lullaby.

Your pater always loves you.

Your pater always tries.

For all the things you say and do

until the sun will rise.

Until the day I speak no more

Until you sleep your last

I’ll be with you—be sure

Until my memory has passed.