“She’s hungry,” she said, laughing through fresh tears.
“She is strong. Like her mother.”
“And stubborn like her father, probably.”
“Undoubtedly.” He brushed his fingers over the baby’s small head with infinite gentleness. “But she is ours. And she is safe. And that is everything.”
She leaned into her mate’s strength, exhaustion taking over now that the adrenaline was fading. But it was a good exhaustion. The kind that came from accomplishment rather than defeat.
“Can we let the others in?” she asked. “I know they’re waiting.”
Wendy immediately came to join them with Mikoz on her hip and tears in her eyes.
“She’s gorgeous,” Wendy said. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She looked at Mikoz, who was staring at the baby with wide-eyed confusion. “Mikoz, come meet your sister.”
Wendy set him down, and he cautiously toddled over to the bed. Selik lifted him up to join them, careful not to jostle her.
Mikoz peered at the baby, his expression serious. Then he reached out, touched her tiny hand with one finger. The baby’s fingers curled around his, and Mikoz’s face lit up.
“Baby,” he said.
“Yes. She’s your sister. Her name is…” She looked at Selik. They’d discussed names, narrowed it down to a few favorites, but hadn’t made a final decision.
“Sera,” Selik said quietly. “If you agree.”
Sera. It was a Cire name, meaning hope.
“It’s perfect,” she said, her eyes bright with tears.
The midwife finished her work, declared both Corinne and the baby healthy, and left them alone with promises to return for follow-up checks.
Wendy took Mikoz, promising to watch him until Anya could collect him, and slipped out quietly.
And then it was just the three of them. He settled onto the bed beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his tail coiled protectively around both of them. Sera was nestled between them, already falling asleep, her tiny body radiating warmth.
“I was terrified,” he admitted. “When I got the message, when I realized you were in labor—all I could think about was everything that could go wrong.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No.” He touched Sera’s cheek reverently. “She is perfect. You are both perfect.”
She felt exhaustion pulling at her, her body demanding rest after the intensity of labor, but she didn’t want to close her eyes, didn’t want to miss a moment of this.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too.” He kissed her, soft and gentle. “Both of you. All of you.”
He meant their whole family—Anya, Mikoz, Sera. The family they’d built from loss and fear and desperate hope.
“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes drifting closed. “We really did it.”
“We did.” His voice was warm with emotion. “Sleep now. I’ll watch over you both.”
She wanted to protest, wanted to stay awake and memorize every detail of this moment, but her body had other ideas, and she felt herself sinking into sleep, safe in the knowledge that Selik was there, that Sera was healthy and whole, that their family was complete.
When she woke, the room was dim, the light outside suggesting late evening. Selik was still beside her, Sera cradled in his arms, his expression soft as he watched their daughter sleep.
