“Why isn’t it stopping?” he demanded.
The medic did not look up.
“I’m trying.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“A concealed birth injury,” the medic said, her voice tightening as she worked. “Something reopened inside her. If the uterine wall tore or failed to close properly after delivery—”
Rhen’s snarl cut through the room.
“Fix it.”
“I am trying. I need you to keep her still.”
Rhen’s jaw locked.
Leena trembled against him.
Her heartbeat weakened.
“No.”
His gaze cut toward her face.
“Leena. Look at me.”
Her eyes opened with visible effort.
Fear lived there now.
Not for herself.
Her attention moved again toward the cradle.
The baby’s cries grew louder.
“He needs…”
“He has Sule.”
Her fingers tightened weakly around Rhen’s hand.
“And you.”
Something inside him tore.
“Don’t.”
“Take care…” Her breath hitched. “Take care of him.”
“No.”
Rhen’s voice came out hard enough to break stone.
“You stay and do it yourself.”
A faint, exhausted smile touched her lips.
