A brother’s acknowledgment of everything neither male would ever put into words.
Rhen returned to the bedside but remained beyond the intimate circle of Sule’s arm.
“Thank you,” Leena whispered. “For everything.”
Rhen could not answer.
He nodded once and forced every forbidden word back behind his teeth.
Leena’s eyes closed as exhaustion finally claimed her.
Sule shifted nearer, one hand resting protectively over the child while he watched the rise and fall of Leena’s chest.
The fire crackled.
The newborn breathed.
Rhen stood guard.
He knew the name of the emotion settling beneath his ribs.
He simply hated it too much to speak it.
It still disgusted him.
It still felt like weakness.
But Leena had asked him to stay, Sule had permitted it, and loyalty gave him a place to stand.
So he stayed.
Chapter 8
Leena felt the weight of her son against her chest, warm and impossibly alive. The worst of the pain had receded, leaving behind exhaustion, trembling relief, and the fragile quiet that followed terror.
She lifted her eyes to Sule, still kneeling beside her, his face wrecked with emotion.
“I was so scared,” she whispered.
He answered without words.
Sule leaned in and kissed her with desperate reverence, one shaking hand cupping their son’s swaddled head.
“You brought him here,” he said, voice breaking. “You brought him to me.”
Leena managed a weak smile before exhaustion finally drew her under.
* * *
By the time the birth medic had examined them both and withdrawn, satisfied that mother and child were stable, Leena had fallen into a deep sleep.
Sule sat beside the bed, one hand resting over hers, his thumb moving lightly across her knuckles. Their swaddled newborn rested against her chest beneath his steadying hand.
Safe.
Both of them safe.
Beyond the chamber, the ancient wards had quieted around the new heartbeat within them, as though the fortress itself had recognized its heir.
