Page 128 of Hunt Me

A heartbeat later, a thin, startled wail filled the chamber.

Matilda sagged against her husband and cried. Luka’s breath came out broken and ragged. He lowered his forehead to hers, praised her strength, and reminded her she was deeply loved.

Dr. Blackwood lifted the tiny, squirming bundle, wrapped her, and turned toward them with a rare, softened expression.

“A girl,” he announced.

Luka gazed upon the infant.

“A daughter,” he whispered.

Matilda reached out with shaky arms. “I told you. Let me see her.”

The doctor placed the newborn into her embrace, and the child’s cries quieted almost immediately, as if recognizing the heartbeat she’d known for months.

Luka leaned over them with his hand hovering before he dared touch the baby’s cheek. One caress of his finger made his heart crack open with love, pride, and adoration.

“What shall you call her?” Dr. Blackwood inquired.

Matilda looked up at Luka. “Denalia.”

Luka cleared his throat. “Denalia,” he confirmed.

Denalia blinked up at them with soulful brown eyes, a button nose, and rosy, pouty lips. Her tiny fists curled, and her cries faded into soft, curious breaths.

Luka pressed a kiss to Matilda’s forehead. “You’ve given me a miracle.”

Matilda exhaled, exhausted but glowing. “Never forget.”

“Never,” he whispered, perfectly transfixed on his daughter.

She was small, fragile, and held the key to his heart. His blood flowed through her veins, and only a few minutes old, she already favored her mother.

Denalia was Night Falls’ future, and he prayed to the gods that Matilda would forgive him for the deceit he would soon commit.

47

Betrayal

“You are so precious,” Matilda whispered to the pink bundle in her arms. She lay propped against the pillows, slowly recovering from childbirth. Her curls were damp against her forehead, and her skin glowed from exhaustion. Denalia was nestled against her chest, little fingers curled, suckling softly. The sound was barely audible, but to Luka, it was the loudest, sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He sat beside them with one arm behind Matilda’s shoulders, the other resting lightly on their daughter’s back. He gazed between them as if trying to memorize every detail before the world could steal the moment away. “She’s perfect.”

“She is,” Luka hummed. “You both are.”

Matilda smiled softly, brushing a fingertip along Denalia’s cheek.

“Do you think she’ll have your stubbornness?” she asked.

“I would prefer it as long as she does not inherit your feralness,” he answered, leaning in to kiss the child’s forehead.

She huffed a laugh. “Is it feralness or fearlessness? She should be so lucky.”

He grinned. “She’ll be a shining example of why vampire-human hybrid children were banned.”

The words had barely left his mouth when he remembered his bastard brother in the dungeon.

“My King,” Matilda said quietly, cupping his cheek and turning him to face her. “Stay with me. Stay with us.”

His jaw worked as he attempted to keep his anger at bay, eventually relenting with a stiff nod.