Aedan and Rhosewen’s nights were devoted to lying alone in their borrowed bed, but they spent their days with their parents. So over the next week, during daylight hours, one could find the family of six in the largest bedroom of the old, country house. Rhosewen remained in bed. Aedan held her left hand while Morrigan held her right. Caitrin did his best to keep his wife and daughter comfortable. And Daleen sat to her son’s right with one arm wrapped around his back. Serafin was the only magician who rarely held still. When he wasn’t performing examinations on Rhosewen and the baby, he was busy meeting the needs of the healthy occupants of the room.
Their conversations remained light and focused on family. Kemble, Cordelia and Quinlan were staying with Cordelia’s parents in Alaska. Cinnia was expanding her café in Cannon Beach. And Kearny was spending an ever increasing amount of time in Oregon, sweeping Enid off her feet.
“There’s something about those Oregon girls,” Serafin teased. “Our Virginia boys keep disappearing.”
“We grow beautiful women,” Morrigan whispered, brushing a spiral from her daughter’s forehead.
“Yes,” Aedan hoarsely agreed.
He rarely spoke anymore. He just listened and stared at his wife, soaking up every move and every word. They were in constant agony now, but the pain had become as much a part of them as anything else. For the most part, they silently endured, but when Rhosewen felt a surge of increased love for her daughter, often triggered by the baby’s movements, their torture intensified, throwing them into flexed fits of agony. When this happened, Morrigan had to leave the room.
Katherine sporadically popped in to ask if anybody needed anything, and she always stayed a while, visiting with Rhosewen and doting on the unborn baby. An eternal ray of sunshine, Katherine brightened the atmosphere, reminding them that life thrived outside the melancholy bedroom.
Early Wednesday morning, she brought in a breakfast of pancakes, bacon, toast and jam, and Rhosewen insisted she stay and dine with them. All of them ate save for Aedan, who wouldn’t let go of Rhosewen’s hand. He would force down a piece of toast the next time he used the bathroom.
Katherine finished first and set her plate on the dresser, moving to Rhosewen’s side. “May I talk to the baby while you eat?”
Rhosewen laboriously swallowed and smile. “You don’t have to ask.”
Katherine beamed as she looked at Rhosewen’s stomach. “Hi there, baby girl,” she cooed. “Are you getting a full belly? Should be; your mommy loves pancakes. Know what else your mommy loves?” she asked, gently tapping Rhosewen’s tummy. “You. Your mom and dad love you so much. You’re a very lucky girl.”
The baby moved, rolling beneath near translucent skin so clearly, they could discern the shape of her tiny hand and its five tiny fingers. That’s when things went from bad to worse.
Rhosewen screamed as her tormented body bucked, and her breakfast plate flew from her chest, shattering against the nightstand. Aedan tightened his grip as he groaned into his bicep, and their parents jumped from their seats, their breakfast plates disappearing into thin air. Startled, Katherine had fallen from the bed and was lying on the floor.
“You should leave,” Serafin said, helping her to her feet. “You shouldn’t see this.”
Horrified, Katherine backed out of the room, closing the door as she went, and Serafin moved to the bed, contemplating how to examine Rhosewen’s thrashing body.
Morrigan rushed to take Rhosewen’s right hand, and Aedan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to master the pain in a desperate attempt to provide mental, physical and emotional support for his wife. But it was the longest, most painful episode yet, and his smarting body was hard to ignore.
Rhosewen’s screams faded into wails as tears flooded from her closed lids, and her legs curled and flexed, her feet drilling into the bed as her head dug into pillows. Aedan opened his eyes, finding her biting a hole in her lip, and he choked back a sob as he buried his face in her neck.
She was in so much agony; he couldn’t stand it. He had to do something. He had to help her. Through clenched teeth he spoke, rubbing pursed lips across tight tendons. “Rose . . . remember that cave I took you to? The one at Devil’s Den? How we sat reading the emotions in the atmosphere?” He felt a slight change in her body and forced his own to move, climbing into bed with her. “I was already in love with you,” he whispered, scooting as close as possible. “I’d already decided to follow you to the ends of the earth. Everything you said, everything you did, exuded beauty, compassion and grace. You were the most captivating woman I’d ever met. From the very beginning.” He was able to unclench his jaw, and her moans had quieted, but tears still ran from her closed lids as her flexed feet pushed at the covers. “As I watched you play with the baby alpacas,” he continued, softly kissing her stretched throat, “I was already scheming on ways to keep you in my life. You forever became my perfect Rose that day.”
“Aedan,” she sobbed, popping her eyes open.
He left her neck, finding her teary gaze. “Ssh . . . . You don’t have to say anything. Just let it get better. It’s getting better.”
As his warm breath washed over her lips and cheeks, her legs stilled, sinking into the blankets. She let go of her mom’s hand then rolled onto her side, lifting her palm to Aedan’s cheek. “You had me . . . the moment . . . you met me…”
Their faces came together, cheek to cheek, and tears streamed from their bloodshot eyes—sad rivers running down the contours of her sunken features. Aedan didn’t mean to cry, but once he started, he couldn’t stop, so they cried together, treasuring what they loved and what they’d lose, while fighting the agony holding their bodies captive.
By the time Rhosewen and Aedan regained control, Serafin had performed seven examinations. Aedan stayed in bed, lying close to Rhosewen as they listened to Serafin’s update.
“You’ve been dilated to two centimeters for three days,” he explained, “including first thing this morning. Now you’re at a three. The baby looks great—around six pounds, fully developed and healthy. She could be safely delivered at a moment’s notice. Your body, however, is a different story. The deterioration is increasing in speed. Your health has declined more in the past four hours than it did in the first three days we were here.” He paused, lightly clearing his throat as he glanced at the floor. “Particularly your heart. It’s struggling to keep your blood pumping, and I fear another episode like that will have it stopping altogether.”
Rhosewen calmly nodded her understanding. At this point, she wasn’t afraid of dying. The two things she feared most were a separation from Aedan and a risk to her child. She knew the separation wouldn’t last long, so her number one priority was her daughter’s safety.
“Do you think it will make it through the delivery?” she asked, speaking of her heart like it was a rusted component on a piece of old machinery.
“I can’t promise anything,” Serafin replied, “but the longer this continues, the smaller the chances.”
Rhosewen’s bruised lips dropped into a frown. “What can we do to speed up the delivery?”
Aedan winced. Speeding up the delivery meant shortening his time on earth with her.
Serafin glanced at his son then bowed his head. “There are things we can do to invoke an early birth, but you’ve already progressed from a two to a three this morning. I think we should wait a while, see how you do naturally. If you don’t dilate anymore today, inducing labor might be our wisest option.”
Rhosewen considered his suggestion, contemplating every possible scenario. “Okay,” she decided. “We’ll wait and see how it goes, but I don’t want my baby ripped from her dead mother.”
Everyone closed their eyes, moaning at the visual she’d put in their heads, but she couldn’t let that deter her. “If it looks like it might come to that, I want to have her early.”
Serafin ran a hand down his face and shook his head clear. “Okay, dear. We’ll examine you and the baby every thirty minutes unless your pain increases, in which case we’ll do them every ten minutes.”
“Do them every ten anyway,” Aedan insisted.
“Of course,” Serafin conceded. “Whatever you think is best.”
“May Aedan and I have a few minutes alone?” Rhosewen asked, scanning everyone’s weary faces.
“Sure, sweetie,” Morrigan agreed, grabbing Caitrin’s hand. Then she pulled him from the room, immediately followed by Serafin and Daleen.
Aedan watched the door close then looked to Rhosewen, ardently staring into her swollen eyes. “You’re the most amazing woman I will ever know, Rose. Our time apart will be hell on me.”
“Me, too,” she whispered, “but we’ll be together again soon.”
“Very soon,” he confirmed, giving her a soft kiss.
“I’m ready to imprint the ring,” she said, glancing at their hands. “I’m afraid to wait any longer.”
“Sure,” he agreed. “Just let me tell them to wait a while before coming back in. We’ll be naked during the spell work.”
“Goody,” she approved, smiling sweetly.
Aedan watched her grin as he tried to mentally communicate with his dad, but the connection was too fuzzy, and Serafin soon entered the room.
“Your mind searches aren’t discernable,” he said.
“I gathered as much,” Aedan replied. “We need some time alone. Don’t come back in until I call you.”
“Sure,” Serafin agreed. Then he left, closing the door behind him.
After removing their clothes, Aedan instructed Rhosewen to roll onto her right side. Then he formed his body to the back of hers, pressing her left palm to her heart so the ring’s band made contact with her skin.
“Ready?” he asked.
As his breath whispered across her cheek, she sighed, aroused yet peaceful. “There’s something I’m not sure about,” she confessed.
“What’s that, my love?”
“Well, I’m not sure if I should include our bonding. I want to share the experience with her, show her how amazing and fulfilled we are together, but I’m afraid it will embarrass her.”
“When our daughter finds her way to the ring,” Aedan replied, “she won’t be a child; she’ll be a woman—mature enough to handle the idea of her conception. But if you’re worried about it, you can filter what she’ll sense. Just give her the song without the dance.”
“Good thinking,” Rhosewen approved. “I can show her how you make me feel without showing you naked. Plus, it will save time. If I include all the ways you’ve loved me, she’ll be experiencing the imprint for months.”
Aedan managed a small smile as he kissed her cheek. “They were the most amazing moments of my life, Rose. I’m going to miss fulfilling my earthly desires with you.”
“Me, too,” she whispered. “We gave new meaning to the words making love. We were perfect together.”
Aedan closed his eyes. It had been months since he’d made love to her, but he recalled the magnificent moments with perfect clarity.
“Okay,” she sighed, pulling him back to their grim present. “I’m ready.”
He kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger as he whispered. “Close your eyes and focus on what you want her to see, feel and hear of your memories. I’ll do the rest.”
Rhosewen closed her eyes and took her mind back to the day she met him—the love of her life, the father of her child, the perfect provider, protector and lover… her soul mate.
As she did, he began chanting next to her ear, so softly and quickly she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She wasn’t trying to understand. She’d immersed herself in a replay of the last nine months of her life, delving into the danger as well as the adoration.
They lay that way, Rhosewen remembering and Aedan chanting, for over an hour. When at last she reached the present, she opened her eyes and the ring grew hot. When Aedan’s murmuring ceased, the ring cooled. The spell had worked.
Rhosewen slid his hands to her protruding belly then held them there as she hummed a sweet and slow melody. Aedan raptly listened, savoring every last drop of the bittersweet moment. Then he added soft lyrics to her soulful serenade.
“Our sweet, precious child,
you’ll soon be in the world.
You’ll bring it so much joy,
our beautiful baby girl.
Mommy and daddy love you,
and wish you all the best.
Just be your precious self,
and your heart will do the rest.”
By that afternoon, it was clear invoking an early birth wouldn’t be necessary. Rhosewen progressed at a normal rate and had dilated to six centimeters by five o’clock. She didn’t notice the pains of labor. Her body had been in worse agony for too long. Only the tightening of her abdomen confirmed her contractions.
The family kept constant vigil at her bedside, knowing it might be their last chance to spend time with her, but a curtain of dread kept the room quiet and sober as time flew on supernatural wings.
When Aedan looked at the grandfather clock across the room, finding the short hand approaching the twelve, he shook his head and refocused. “Is that the right time?”
“Yeah,” Caitrin answered, checking the timepiece on his wrist. “It’s 11:17.”
As Serafin performed an examination, placing his hands on Rhosewen’s bare belly, the baby kicked and Rhosewen wailed. Aedan lurched into action, brushing swift kisses across Rhosewen’s tight jaw.
“She’s ready,” Serafin announced, and Rhosewen cried again, tightening her grip on Aedan.
“Mom . . .” she gasped, blindly reaching out with her right hand, “. . . dad . . . I love you . . .”
Her parents immediately responded by leaning closer, and Morrigan buried her face in golden spirals as Caitrin tenderly wiped away Rhosewen’s tears.
“We love you, too, sweetheart,” he rasped. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to your mom and me. And we’re so proud of you… for being so strong for your baby girl.” He touched his forehead to hers, squeezing his eyes shut on fat teardrops. “I love you, Rhosewen, with every beat of my heart. Always.” He kissed her wrinkled brow then backed away, literally choking on grief.
Morrigan stroked Rhosewen’s hair as she touched her lips to her ear, murmuring a gentle proclamation of devotion that only a mother could execute correctly. “You’ll be with us forever and always, my sweet child, in our hearts and on our minds. I love you with every ounce of my being, and until I see you again, I’ll miss everything about you every second of every day.” She pulled away, staring deep into Rhosewen’s eyes for a long, heartbreaking moment. Then she gave her a lingering kiss, whispering I love you over and over again. Instead of backing away, she fell away, landing in Caitrin’s open arms.
Rhosewen’s features twisted as she squeezed her eyes shut. Then her body cringed as her eyes popped open, frantically searching the room. When she found Daleen, she tried to speak, but screamed instead.
Daleen moved closer, touching her lips to Rhosewen’s clammy forehead. “You don’t need to say anything, darling. You’ve made our son the happiest he’s ever been, and you’ve done a wonderful job keeping our granddaughter safe and healthy. You’re an amazing daughter, wife and mother, and special things await a person like you, wherever you’re heading.”
“Thank you . . .”
“No, Rhosewen. That’s our line. We love and appreciate everything about you. Please know that.”
Rhosewen managed a small nod, and Daleen soothingly smiled as she moved away. But as soon as she was out of Rhosewen’s sight, she quietly sobbed into her hands.
“It’s time,” Serafin insisted, holding a hand to Rhosewen’s lower abdomen. “Your body’s too weak to do it alone, so Daleen’s going to give you a magical hand, but I’ll need you to push during contractions.”
Rhosewen and Aedan found each other’s eyes and searched each other’s souls, trying to recall every detail of their journey, every second they’d spent together. But time was too short.
“I love you, my beautiful Rose,” he whispered. “More than my own life. We’ll be together again soon. I promise.”
“I love you, too . . .” she sobbed. “I won’t be complete without you.” She squeezed her eyes shut then forced them open, finding his gaze once more. “I’ll be looking for you every second until I find you . . . but please . . .” she pleaded, tightening her grip, “please make sure our daughter’s safe before you come to me. Please.”
“I swear, Rose. I’ll give our baby what she needs, but then I’m coming to find you.”
He touched his burning forehead to hers, fighting red hot tears. Then they kissed, so passionately their bonded lights reached their full potential for the first time in months, bursting from their trembling forms like a heavenly explosion. All too soon their lips broke apart, severed by Rhosewen’s bucking body, and the golden hazes retracted.
“We have to do it now,” Serafin advised.
Aedan glanced at his dad’s forlorn expression then looked to his wife’s sea blue eyes. “Ready, my love?”
“Yes,” she answered, squeezing his hand.
“Then let’s meet our baby.”
“Our baby,” she breathed, and Aedan inhaled the sweet sigh as he gave her another kiss.
Aedan held her hands, Morrigan braced her back, and Daleen placed her palms on her stomach, murmuring with her eyes closed. Serafin would deliver the baby with Caitrin’s assistance.
After thirty minutes of unbelievable effort on Rhosewen’s part, Serafin announced he could see the baby’s hair. “Just a few more pushes,” he encouraged. Then he lowered his voice as he glanced at Daleen. “Release her womb and check her pulse.”
Daleen obeyed, choking back an alarmed squeak as she touched Rhosewen’s chest.
Aedan heard his mom’s muted terror, but ignored it, keeping his eyes on Rhosewen as she pushed again.
The grandfather clock tolled midnight, echoing in Aedan’s ears like a death knell as Rhosewen’s emaciated shoulders lifted, shuddering over desperate gasps. The second bell chimed, and Rhosewen squeezed her eyes shut, giving her daughter all the strength she had left. As the clock’s third strike faded from the air, a tiny cry filled the room with miraculous music. Serafin worked quickly and had the baby on Rhosewen’s chest before the clock’s fifth signal.
Rhosewen and Aedan stared at their little miracle—tiny, red and raw, but healthy and so perfect. She had her daddy’s dark skin and onyx hair, her mommy’s curls, and a shiny white aura swimming with wispy rivers of pearlescent silver and soft pink. Clutching her teeny fists to her chin, she stared at them with blurry, emerald green eyes, confusion creasing the features of her petite face.
“She’s beautiful,” Rhosewen breathed, running a quaking thumb across her daughter’s wrinkled forehead. “Our perfect . . . Layla.” She gripped Aedan’s hand like never before, pulling it to her cheek as she lowered her lips to Layla’s matted curls. “I love you guys.” she rasped, her aura swelling with proof. “So . . . much . . .”
Darkness suddenly washed over Aedan as the worst physical pain he’d ever experienced shot from Rhosewen’s hand, pulverizing his insides, stealing his breath and sanity. But as quickly as it came, the agony drained away, all of it, and he knew.
He opened his eyes, finding his baby girl lying on his wife’s idle chest, the heart inside no longer beating. It had burst with love.
Aedan slipped her wedding ring off her finger then folded her hands over her flat stomach. After carefully closing her lids, he whispered across her lips. “I love you, my perfect Rose. Forever.”
After one last kiss, he left her lips and wrapped his hands around his daughter, gently pulling her into a warm, cradle hold. His Rose was gone, but a piece of her lived in their baby, their beautiful, perfect Layla. He bowed his head over her, closed his eyes, and cried like never before.