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Just the thought sends pain lancing through me.
I gasp as every muscle in my midsection contracts. The pain takes my breath away.
“Luna?”
I wave her off, trying to breathe through it. “I’m okay. It’s a cramp. Just a cramp. I need to walk it off.”
I hold my hand up to her and Mariya helps me stand up. She keeps a tight hold on my arm as I walk back and forth across the small room.
With every step, the pain ebbs away. I take slow, deep breaths until I can stand up straight.
“What in the hell was that about?” Mariya asks.
“Normal pregnancy stuff, I guess.” I shrug. “I don’t know. It could be the stress.”
She eyes my stomach nervously. “Should we call my brother? Is this an emergency?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. We shouldn’t worry him over nothing.”
“Yakov doesn’t get worried. But he does get shit done,” she says. “If there is even the slightest chance that this is abnormal, he’d want to get it checked out. Even if it turns out to be nothing.”
“He’s busy.”
Mariya snorts. “Nothing is more important to my brother right now than you and his babies.”
She can only say that because she doesn’t know how bad things have gotten with Nikandr. If she knew her brother could be days away from dying, she’d understand where I’m coming from.
“I know, but the sun isn’t even up yet. Plus, I feel okay.” I step back and throw my arms wide. “See? I’m fine.”
I spin in a slow circle to prove to her I’m perfectly healthy. But when I spin to face her again, her blue eyes are wide.
“What?” I ask.
“I think we should call someone,” she says shakily. “Vera is a midwife. I can ask her for help. Maybe we should?—”
“Mariya, what is it?” I ask.
She bites on her lower lip. “Look at the back of your nightgown.”
I twist as far as my bump will let me, which isn’t very far. It doesn’t matter—I can already see exactly what Mariya is talking about.
A red stain as big as my palm.
My heart leaps into my throat. I swallow it back down. “Bleeding can be normal. Dr. Jenkins told me that bleeding could be perfectly?—”
Another cramp wraps around my midsection and zings through my lower back. I groan.
“Should I call someone now?” Mariya asks, slightly panicked.
I double over, my palms flat on the mattress. I can’t find the words to answer her. Hell, I can’t even breathe.
“That’s it,” Mariya decides. “I’m calling someone.”
No. I don’t want her to call anyone. I don’t want Yakov to hear about this. I don’t want anything to be wrong with my babies.
This can’t be happening.
Another cramp tightens like a clamp around my stomach and I cry out in pain.
