Page 300 of May: Bloom & Bane

“He’s always uptight like this,” Ashán corrects.

“We are just going to leave the bottles by the door,” Therael calls.

“Not that they’re going to separate long enough to grab them,” Damon’s voice drifts down the hallway.

“Finally,” Ashán rumbles, his fingers trailing up the back of my thigh. “Where were we, angel?”

CHAPTER 91

my little clover

—ASHÁN & SAGE

We have broken every bone in this body. Cleaved the wings from our back. Agony is a cross we have borne many times. But never before have we stood helpless while the person we loved carried it instead.

Another contraction tears through the bond. Eden gasps. So do we.

Take more, I growl.

I don’t know how, Sage shoots back.

Somewhere along the line, the pain became too much, and the bond responded. The ache inside Eden spilled into us. And we understood, all at once: she hadn’t been clinging to us because she was afraid. She’d been clinging to us because her body already knew. When the burden became too heavy to carry alone… we would carry it with her.

“I think something’s wrong,” Eden pants, copper hair plastered to her forehead. “Is the baby okay? Can you still feel her?”

“She’s perfect,” Sage soothes.

“Her heartbeat’s strong,” I add.

Our eyes never leave hers.

“You’re the one who’s changing,” he whispers.

Her brow furrows. “Changing? What do you mean? Bad changing?”

“No,” I breathe, cupping her cheek. “Not bad at all, ash’kaela.”

“The bond is different now,” Sage tells her.

“Different how?” Her wide green eyes search our face for the truth.

“It’s… reaching for us.” Our gaze drops to where our hands cradle her. “To carry some of it. So you don’t have to bear it alone.”

“You’re taking the pain?” she whispers, her trembling fingers press against our jaw. “I thought something was wrong because it doesn’t hurt as much.”

“We wish we could make this painless for you.”

She gives me a small smile. “If it didn’t hurt. I’d wonder if she was really on her way.”

Our throat tightens. Another contraction builds, and we brace before she makes a sound. Eden inhales sharply. It crashes through all three of us. Her fingers clamp around one of my rib bones.

Take more, I beg the bond.

Eden’s grip loosens. Ours tightens. Pain surges through the tether between our souls.

More.

Our vision swims. Sage’s knee trembles. I bare my fangs against the ache.